She's a naughty girl with a bad habit.
Cigarettes.
Addictive little fuckers, aren’t they? Except, up until, oh, I don’t know, THIS BLOG POST, I was always adamant that I wasn’t
addicted to smoking. Oh no, me? I can stop any time I want! I
smoke because I ENJOY it! I WANT to smoke! I’m not controlled by my habit, NO
WAY. I do it CONSCIOUSLY! WILLINGLY! I CAN STOP ANY TIME I WANT!
I
used to say the same thing about casual sex, and it was only when I gave that
up that I realised how detrimental it had been to my well being- harmless fun as
I was determined to write it off as at the time. I was doing and dumping as a tool to protect myself. I’m pretty sure that
right now I am using tobacco in the exact same way.
I’ve
thought about giving up smoking for a long time. But when I say thought about it I mean thought about it in the same way that I think about how nice it would be live in
one place longer than twenty minutes, or in the way I think about what I might call a rescue dog, or what Beyoncé is
doing right now this very second.
I
know the theory of why I should stop,
but I hate should-ing anything (it’s
a personal development point and I blame it squarely on my father. HI DAD!) so traditionally
I’ve given up giving up after a day,
or a week, or in the case of earlier this year four whole months because, well. Everyone else is doing it. Fuck,
THIS IS ITALY. Smoking in Italy is a bit like forgoing toilet paper in New
Delhi: You know it’s a bit stupid and dirty, and ultimately it will be your
downfall, but the locals do it so that makes it okay.
I
read an obituary last week that the deceased man had written himself. He said, My regret
is that I felt invincible when young and smoked cigarettes when I knew they
were bad for me. Now, to make it worse, I have robbed my beloved Mary Jane of a
decade or more of the two of us growing old together…
I feel
such the "thief" now - for stealing so much from her…
I
think that was what planted this final seed. The future father of my children,
my unborn kids, the family I’ll make
for myself- the things I have no real concept of right now but one day will exist- this is something I have to
do for them. And I think this is absolutely related to the celibacy.
GUYS.
I AM SO NOT DONE TALKING ABOUT THE CELIBACY.
I’m learning how to stop punishing myself for having emotions, and hurting with of all the
things I can’t control, and trying to figure out what I can control, and the
no-sex-thing has led me to this place wherein I am in the process of becoming
truly happy.
Happy people can conceive of even more future
happiness, and whereas once upon a time I thought I’d die a lonely spinster-
and I mean, legitimately, that I’d always be an aunt but never a mother, or
that nobody would ever really want to date me, and that I’d have to learn to
rely only on myself until the day I died- now, I see that I am part of
something bigger.
I
waxed lyrical about The Month of Awesome and my Roman Family because these
things really did change me; I see that there are people who care about me, and
honestly, truly and really, I’m not exaggerating when I say, I didn’t think I was worth caring all that
much about until this year.
And
now I’m getting totally away from my point, which is basically that I started
to think not about giving up smoking,
but about why I smoke in the first
place (right as soon as I had stopped mentally decorating the New York
apartment Clementine Elizabeth and Sebastian Richard will be brought up in).
I had
to sit all the parts of my personality down in a group meeting to figure out how
the ABSOLUTE HECK I allowed more or less twelve years of smoking happen. And the
answers aren’t pretty.
I
smoke when I feel awkward at a party, as a reason to excuse myself instead of
including myself.
I
smoke when I’m feeling exposed, so that I can stare at my hands instead of my
inhibitions.
I
smoke because it puts a physical barrier between me and whomever I am with.
I
smoke to feel like I am in control.
It is
really, really, important to me that
I deal with these things. I've already done so much searching in my soul to learn how to be better, how to be me, how to maybe feel more worthy. So I quit.
I quit smoking, Internet. Day one. Done.
You're a brave soul and I commend you for it!!! All the best
ReplyDelete@overweight Thank you so much... it's not easy, I know that much!
ReplyDeleteI used to smoke (and still sneak one from time to time...shh...don't tell) because it calmed me. When my past reared its ugly head and overwhelmed me or when, like you, the celibacy became too difficult, I would smoke. I also smoke when I drink. The two go hand in hand for me (why is that?).
ReplyDeleteNow I want one. Crikey. Be strong Jessi. Be. Strong.