I’ve thought about it often and brushed it aside. I’ve been hounded and scolded by family and friends to give it up. Not to mention the number of taxi drivers, restaurant staff, hotel clerks and mothers with children who have, if not suggested it outright, their scowl of disapproval have made their thoughts on the habit abundantly clear.
Now, at long last, after three failed half-hearted attempts, finally, f-i-n-a-l-l-y, forty years on, I have quit smoking.
Here we are. Day seven and counting! Surprisingly done without the aid of any patches, pills, other support devices, prescriptions, group therapy, or 12 step programs, etc. So far, so good. No really hairy withdrawal symptoms, no odd or typically frantic addict toys-out-of-the-cot-tantrums. In fact, quite the opposite. It’s been very strangely ok.
The Secret? Damned if I know (there is a higher power!).
The Method? Just didn’t light up the next one.
The Quantity?Approaching three packs a day on stressful days (two packs a day for the last five years).
Observations so far:
Well the scary part is not the amount of money wasted, not the ill effects on my physical health, not even the time endured as a social outcast. Although not insignificant!
No, no!The really truly scary part, when I stop and think about it is the amount of conscious and subconscious bullshit I’ve had to repeatedly tell myself over the years to smooth over this guilt-ridden self-destructive anti-social behaviour! Clearly I’ve become well accustomed to believing my own crap in this regard. It kinda makes me wonder what other twaddle I may have been serving up to myself?
Not one of the outcomes I had anticipated in giving up smoking.
Other than that, I feel much better. Feeling rather proud of myself, at this point. We’ll see. It seem’s I’ve managed to tell myself a fib or two before along the way. Jury’s still out!
Xross that line
Image Credits: Cancer Patients Aid Association: Please Give Generously.