Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Cigarette soliloquy

There are a ton of scary, scary ads out there right now promoting quitting smoking. They depict people who have had horrifying things happen to them because they smoked cigarettes. They are followed by the message, "You can quit. Contact blah blah blah..." If you think you need chemicals to help you, there's a pill on the market that will reduce your urge to smoke, but might also make you suicidal. Yeah, that's appealing.

Everyone knows that smoking is bad. Everyone knows it's hard to quit. What these ads don't tell you is just how hard it is to quit, and why. Here's what nobody wants to tell you about quitting cigarettes: Cigarettes are your friend, and quitting smoking is like losing your best buddy.

When you smoke, cigarettes are always with you. They're part of your (un)balanced breakfast. They're your bus stop buddies. They're an after-dinner conversation partner, and they're always there when something stressful happens, to ease your frustration. Cigarettes soothe you when you're in pain, and they pick you up when you're down. A nice, refreshing smoke is also a great reward after you've accomplished something, like doing the laundry, cleaning the litter box or writing a journal entry. Everything reminds me of smoking! Coffee, being outside, writing, being on the phone- all of these are things I usually do when smoking.

I'm cheating, though. I'm using an e-cigarette. It curbs the nicotine fits, but it's not like smoking. It makes me crave a real cigarette. (Nobody at the vape shop will tell you about that phenomenon.) I've had limited success with going outside with my vape the way I would with a cigarette, and pretending I'm smoking, but I'm still pretending I'm smoking. It's only a temporary fix, too, because it's the nicotine that slows bone healing, so I'm going to have to wean myself off the nicotine liquid, as well. Look, I'm even doing it now. I vape more often than when I would smoke, because I can vape indoors, and I never smoked indoors. Gods. I'm pathetic.

Right now, it seems hopeless. I have a lot of friends telling me it gets better and stuff, but I don't believe them. I'm mourning the loss of my good friend, Ciggy. Yes, seriously, it's a mourning process. Anyone who tells you it's not has never been a regular smoker. I figure maybe, just maybe, if I treat it like a mourning process rather than a punishment (Shame on you for being an addict!), I might be able to get through this, but I'm not confident.

Consider this entry to be the first of many on the subject.