Okay, so I’ve sung the glories of diet and nutrition. Dissed the use of alcohol and caffeine. (no I’m not holier than thou about any of it, but I apply it to my own life religiously) Anyway…I lead a real clean life, right? Well…no, not really. I’ve relapsed again…that is, I’m smoking again.
I quit six years ago and in the last three years relapsed a few times. It pretty much sucks. Intermittently the withdrawal symptoms get bad. Agitation and irritability. They don’t last long between tapers or perhaps it strikes me during “that time of the month”, again not lasting long, but whatever symptom I have, however briefly, it lasts long enough for me to impulsively pick up a cigarette and then not put it back down for a couple of months. And then I’m dealing with yet another withdrawal…on top of the drug withdrawal. Yes, I choose, in this instance, to make my life more difficult than it has to be with the drug withdrawal alone.
And since in my last post I discussed impulsiveness, I want to say I don’t excuse my choice to smoke by saying I’m a victim of my agitation or irritability. I am free to choose and I am responsible for making a poor decision.
No excuses then, just a crutch in my drug-addled world. And I can’t say I’m any different from any other smoker, or ex-smoker for that matter either. We all suffer difficult moments.
I wrote the above the other day. I ran out of cigarettes last night. That morning cigarette is the most delightful of the day, but since it’s 3:30 am and I’m not about to go out and get a pack, I’m figuring today will be my quit date this time around. Besides, I have that scratchy feeling in my throat and I’m coughing occasionally–the signs I use when it’s time to quit after another relapse. What will make it hard today and in the next few days is that I’m in the throws of PMS and I’ve recently made a drug reduction. That’s why I’m up at this ungodly hour. My dog started barking incessantly, woke me up, and then I just couldn’t get back to sleep–I’m agitated enough that it seemed futile to stay in bed, so I got up.
It’s not a good time to a quit. My body and mind are in a bit of turmoil. We’ll see. I’ve done it before at less than opportune times. You are my witnesses. I’d like to make this final. Cigarettes strip you of various nutrients. I want to quit for my mental health.
It’s weird too, even though I smoke when things are emotionally difficult, after a few days they don’t actually make me feel better and can, after the first one or two of the day actually make me feel worse. It becomes plainly only a nicotine addiction. I really don’t find pleasure in it. I don’t get addiction. I will never get addiction. I empathize for people addicted to harder substances. I get addiction enough to understand to some extent what they must go through. I’ve worked as a social worker quite a lot with addicts. I can’t say I’ve learned to apply anything I’ve learned to myself. And to tell you the truth I don’t think I was ever particularly helpful to the addicts I worked with. It was the one area I worked in that I felt less than competent.
So here I go. Wish me luck. I’ll let you know how I progress sometime down the line.