Wednesday, July 8, 2009

36 hours and $26,691

So, here I am a mere thirty-six hours into my non-smoking adventure. With the help of Nicoderm I am not a crazy bitch. This is definitely an improvement from all of the other times I've had to quit. I don't even have the physical craving for a smoke and have found not smoking to be incredibly easy... so far. The thing that hasn't been so easy is the incessant urge to shoot myself in the face, so that I don't have to live anymore. I knew this was coming. It always does when I decide to quit smoking. I think that I've defined myself so long through sex, smoking and swearing that I no longer know who to be when I don't have a smoke between my fingers. In fact, I don't know how to do something fun without smoking, nor do I know what to do to have fun without it. What activities make me happy? Gossiping on a patio while smoking. Going out for coffee and gossiping while smoking. Going out for beers and gossiping while smoking. I mean, I do have happinesses in my life that DON'T involve me inhaling nicotine every ten minutes. However, true "down-time" for me does. Actually, everything I do is smoking related somehow. I like my long drive to work because I can chain smoke. As I clean the house, I reward myself every few rooms with a smoke. Now what? I'm going to be eating a cookie every time and making myself even fatter? I think not.
My motivation is not my health and well being. My motivation is the approximate $26,691 I've spent in the last ten years. ALMOST TWENTY-SEVEN FUCKING THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!!!! That is fucking ridiculous. And for what? Relaxation and my mental well being? I'm quitting because the $2,500 I spend in a year could pay for an engagement ring and some new tires. I'm quitting because I'm sick of saying, "I can't afford a Grande Skinny Vanilla Latte." I make ok money. I certainly make enough to afford a cup of Starbucks every now and then. But, God-fucking-dammit I feel like it's not worth it. I don't want to leave my bloody house, or my bed for that matter. I can't imagine getting married in bed would be worth it. The new tires would go unused because I go insane driving my car, not to mention I can't even drive with the windows down any more. What good is being able to afford some overpriced caffeine if you don't want to enjoy it with some friends?
And then I ask myself if twenty-five hundred dollars is really worth all of this misery. Sometimes my answer is yes and sometimes it's no. I just don't want the rest of my life to involve me dreading the morning coming because I will have to get out of bed and be SO FUCKING BORED until the minute I'm asleep again. Is it worth me sitting here wondering when life will creep up on me and drag me into a new world? To feel like death is the preferable option to eternal suffering? I somehow manage to tell myself that I'm just being crazy and over dramatic. But, unfortunately that's how I feel more often than not. I think about my dad after he quit. Quitting killed him in the end. I know he was sick and he would have gone sooner than later anyways... but it kills me that he went so unhappy. He was alive for almost a year after he quit and he did not sit outside once. He didn't get to enjoy those beautifully dry, warm, Castlegar summer evenings in the last few months of his life. And that kills me. What if I never get to enjoy sitting outside, absorbing the atmosphere ever again either? What if I am like my mom and my Grandma. I don't even remember when they used to smoke... and they still say after meals, "I would just kill for a cigarette right now."
I hate myself for ever starting this disgusting habit. But, on the same token, I can't hate myself for it. If it wasn't for cigarettes I would have never met most of the people in my life. I never would have enjoyed most of the best nights of my life. I just don't think neutrality is as good as happiness, even if happiness comes with great sacrifice. I need to stop being my own worst enemy in this situation, tape on another patch, and march forward, no matter how much I don't want to. Life goes on, and I will have to too. And with that I'll go to bed and hope tomorrow doesn't come.

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