Wednesday, January 9, 2013

One hand in my pocket, and the other is smoking a cigarette


You probably don't know this about me, but I used to smoke.

When I first wrote that sentence out, I wrote "used to be a smoker," but I hate calling myself that- it's really not who I as as a person. I just, every so often, would have a cigarette. Sometimes four.

I'm not even sure why it used to be that way; I was an advocate of not-smoking up until I was about 18 or 19. I'm a singer (kind of), and knew the damage it would do to me in the long term if I kept it up. But there I was, in early college and smoking (socially for a while, then on my own).  I let it go after a really bad bout of bronchitis that was exacerbated by smoking, also because it was an expensive habit.

I loved smoking, though, and I'm not really apologetic about the fact. Yes, it is horrible for you and no, I don't recommend it to anyone.

There is something about smoking that just. gets. you. sucked. in.  Something about the tactile need to have a cigarette between my pointer and middle. To inhale and then slowly exhale (notice how I've traded in smoking for meditation- a similar stress reliever) and watch the smoke rise to the heavens. I'm pretty sure Jesus is pretty pissed with me over this one. Also, it was (to some extent), a social thing for me. I smoked at parties. I smoked during class breaks. I smoked after sex (consequentially the best cigarette I've ever had in my whole life). I smoked on study breaks. at the bus stop. at Eat n' Park diner at 2 in the morning to sober up (when EnP was still smoker-friendly). with coffee. without coffee.

It was stupid, but damn it all, it was satisfying to me.

I haven't really smoked in years at this point. The only exception being a couple of times when I was far too drunk to care about myself.  No, I don't count hookah as "smoking."

This morning, on my way to work, I was struck by the feeling of wanting to have a cigarette with a cup of coffee or Red Bull. I should note that when I used to smoke, it was usually accompanying one of the two. Now, I didn't satisfy this want- I shrugged it off but found it strange. My assumption is that it was a stress based craving. But it was off putting for the majority of my morning. My best guess is that because I haven't been working out (much thanks to this stupid cold making it hard for me to breathe) and I haven't been meditating, my stresses have just been welling up inside of me. All of my frustrations and angers, they are just stewing and needing an outlet (past writing in this blog). So, this morning, in the midst of feeling anxious about going into work- I had the distinct desire to just have a fucking cigarette. Because it's so easy and it's quick to satisfy my stress.

An old picture of me. 


In fact, I don't know why the fuck I'm blogging about this. Because it keeps me from walking my ass to the corner store to pick up a pack? Because maybe out there, somewhere, someone else is having the same struggle as me today and would lovingly leave a comment?  I just keep telling myself what I told myself when I finally did quit a regular smoking habit: I have no need for it. It doesn't keep me going. It doesn't actually make me feel better about my life. I have no need for it. Only want.

you can't always get what you want. 


So I'm going to go relax, have a mug of tea, and meditate.

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