Now, don’t misunderstand! I don’t tell you that because I’m looking for some kind of … praise. I don’t feel I’ve done it on my own efforts, not really. And, to be perfectly honest, it’s really not something I’m “proud” of, in that sense of the word. I did it because I had to, not because I wanted to. Heck, if it was up to me, I’d smoke all the time, in every place. I’d smoke at my computer like I did many years ago. I’d smoke in restaurants and theaters, like I used to be able to. I’d smoke while watching TV, or walking down the street, waiting to get my hair cut at the salon – you name it, I’ve smoked there. And if I could, I’d still be doing it. I’d smoke 3 packs a day if I could.
If I could.
But I can’t.
And I miss it.
I miss it like one would miss a lover who’s bad news but you just can’t break up. That high maintenance brat who makes too many demands but looks so cute when they do it that you just can’t resist. I think about smoking every single moment of every single day and it’s important to me that you understand that I haven’t quit on my own strength, because I have very little when it comes to this. I simply did what I had to do but that doesn’t mean I haven’t gone kicking and screaming, resentful as all get-out over it. Nor do I think of myself as an “ex” smoker, or a “non” smoker – I think of myself as a smoker, who just happens to be between cigarettes right now. It’s just a really looooong between. Because I promise you, if I make it to 100, I’m lighting up on my 100th birthday.
I’ve learned a few things this time quitting, too. I’ve learned that it’s really much more about the psychological addiction for me more so than the physical addiction, or even the habit. Smoking really is my crutch. It’s how I deal with stress and boredom and frustration and anger and anything else negative that gets in my way that I really don’t want to deal with. It’s my Scarlett O’Hara – “Oh, fiddle-dee-dee, I won’t think about that today, I’ll think about that after I’ve had a cigarette … or 2 … or 3.” Only now there aren’t any more cigarettes to have so I’m left with the stress and boredom and frustration and anger and anything else negative that’s in my way. And my husband has discovered that he’s married to a much more mouthy b*tch than he realized. Funny, I talk a lot more without a cigarette to smoke. Whoda thunk?
So it’s sort of a milestone I guess, but not one that I feel any sense of accomplishment about. More like penance. Yeah, that’s it. Penance. So, if you smoke, please have 1 or 2 for me. And whether smoking or non, have a nice day, dangit!
Filed under: Thinking out loud Tagged: Smoking "