Mama raised me a quitter

In the ten years that I smoked, I made the final decision to quit smoking in maybe ten seconds. I wish I made more decisions this quickly.

I was out on the patio sitting down to read a book and I reached for my cigarettes, which weren't there, and I got up to look for them like I have a million times before. But this time I realize that I'm doing it and I remember all the other times I've gone frantic looking for my cigarettes either finding them or going to the store to get more. This time I know where my cigs are and I know that there are only two (or maybe three) left in the pack and I'll need to get more soon and I only have ten pesos and I'll need to go to the ATM and a pulse of anxiety races up my spine. Imagining that I may have to go twenty minutes without a cigarette two hours from now gives me the jangles as it does every day.

I counted up all the wasted energy (and time) I had put into finding, buying and borrowing cigarettes. I realized all of the activities postponed because I needed to guarantee I'd still have a cigarette to smoke afterwards. I had assumed that I was using cigarettes to enhance my experiences or prepare me for an experience or relieve me from stressful experience...., but mostly smoking was the experience. I was postponing my experiences to smoke. If I had a job interview, I'd have to smoke cigs as close up till the time of the interview as possible (and sometimes during), even though it makes me stink more than I realize. and if I can't have a cigarette I'll feel disjointed and jonesy the whole time, fixated on my next fix. I had given smoking top priority in my life and I was completely dependant on them to fulfill that need.

I wanted control of my life back. This was the greatest urge to quit I had felt in a long time, there were other reasons that came later too, but this was how I came to find my three cigarettes, break them, and throw them in the trash.

It was also because.... Ugh, how to put this. How can I ever take care of myself in life... no, How can I ever care about myself in life when I am habitually doing something as self destructive and self sabotaging as smoking. Something that I knew was hurting me. (I've been lucky with the worser drugs, but it's the same thing) I acknowledged it, yet I went on with it like it wasn't staining every inch of me with its toxins and stink. If it's so easy to kill myself in tiny, tiny incriments, well, what good am I to myself? Ever?

The third reason was not conscious so much as in the back of my head. It was kind of like how you purchase a lighter with the intent of lighting up your smokes, but it makes a great bottle opener too so it would be silly not to use it for both. I figured it would be an equally good reason to quit because it would take my mind off of somebody. Certainly made quitting easier.

48 days later and it's gotten steadily tougher. I had the inertia from making my decision-of-clarity and throwing out the last of my camels, from gaining my control again. All my idealic reasons for quitting fueled me also... but one and a half months later I have to make my own momentum. I'm left with my will power and I must allow myself to exercise it everyday. Still, sometimes I need to rip my hair out, roll it up, and smoke it before I do something that I'll really regret. I think before ripping my hair out though I should probably try something else to regain focus, maybe in the same vein as getting healthy again (I assume I was a healthy baby anyways). Eat better, exercise, get the kind of body that I want... so I can feel good about myself, so I know that I care about myself.

I did go to the gym twice a couple of weeks ago and it felt great. I had all kinds of energy and I felt like I could keep going. And it was easy. I remember jogging when I was in NH and that stuff bout killed me. Cramps, pounding heart, dry throat, dry tongue, hacking up phlem... needing to rest every 5 or 7 minutes at first. But this time it was like I had been running all along, very natural. But then last week I start coughing and feeling a tickle in my throat. This week too. So, I've put off going back to El Gimnasio. I feel better today but I'm still have this shitting cough. Maybe I just suck at taking care of myself. Bah.