runlikejoy

Displaced Stay At Home Californian in rural N. Carolina

The Many Faces of Joy

The Many Faces of Joy

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Smoking


I was stopped at an intersection the other day and I looked left and saw a woman sucking long and hard on a cigarette. She was most likely in her 50's but she looked like she was in her 70's, I'm not judging her, remember that is one of the nasty things that smoking will help accelerate. I stared at her longer than I should have, long enough for her to look at me and stare back. She looked like she had been smoking a long time.

I was a smoker for a good number of years but now I forget that I used to be a smoker sometimes and when I see a smoker I wonder what the hell they are doing? Are they stupid? Are they uneducated as to the harms of smoking? Are they out to lunch? Have they not seen that ad with the lady with the hole in her neck trying to talk? Or the ones where they are always comparing cigarette companies to Chernobyl?

It was a tough habit to kick. I tried cold turkey, I tried the patch, I tried the gum, I tried the step down method, I tried Wellbutrin, I tried 12 steps, I tried smoking until I was sick of smoking and the only thing that worked was waking up one day and telling myself I was through and I was. At first it was hard, I would watch movies where people were smoking and feel like I would die if I didn't get my hands on a cigarette right that second. I avoided places that smelled like smoke. I avoided people who smoked. I avoided places that sold cigarettes. I felt like I was powerless so I had to create a world where cigarettes did not exist to be able to stay strong and not smoke.

The other day I said to my husband as a smoker walked past and flicked their butt on the ground and then breathed that lungful of filth on me, "ugh, that is so disgusting, that makes me sick" and my husband stopped short. He said, "wow, I can't believe you said that!" and now to think of it, I can't believe I did either.

I guess that means I am no longer a smoker.

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