For lack of a carefully calculated segue to opening this entry, I'll simply announce the topic. (As I have done in conversations for the last seven days.) I have quit smoking! And now, I have had about five urges to smoke in the time it has taken me to find myself at this juncture in the writing. Well, when considering the time it takes to smoke a cigarette, much less five, I certainly wouldn't have been so productive by now. We could prove this to a very great extent, perhaps. I am clipping along on the keyboard very well now. But, I suspect chin scratching and ear picking might replace some of the puffing. Aside from a couple of e-mails, this is my first attempt at composition while having nicotine clear of my system-- That is, since I've been fourteen years old. I suppose targeting my own story of quitting is brave, as far as keeping cigarettes off my mind. It's mostly these untouchable day-glo butterflies I seem to have to worry about though...
In some seriousness, quitting smoking cigarettes has yielded mild hallucinations in me. I've seen spiders for brief moments, and then they'd be gone. More than seeing things, I've been loopy. Waking up each morning, I find I am thinking very hard about something, it could be anything. It is usually related to my physiology, and a need it might have. Only, instead of just my stomach needing cereal and milk; my left foot needs orange juice in a weird way. These psychological effects are not unlike having the flu. In fact, my nose is running a bit right now. I find it interesting that stopping cold turkey is not shunned. The withdrawal is violent. It may not be too destructive to stick one's foot in the juice pitcher in a deprived daze, if the worst were to come. Using one's imagination, though, a half awake ether-like dream state could cause problems. For instance, the somnambulist cartoon character who steps on the hoe. Without a doubt, the last thing I need at a time like this is a hoe up in my face.
Quitting will always be measured in time. I'm informed it takes about two weeks of the real concentration camp. Then, the urges subside, and the want of tobacco is pretty nil. It's been about seven days, for me now. Seven weeks shouldn't be a problem... Seven years... decades? I'm thirty, I suppose it's conceivable now. From such a habit as I've had, the quitting is ranked by duration to date. Staying clear for a week says something, but still very little. There is a threshold by which the explanation turns from "I quit," to "I don't smoke." I remain very serious about my intent not to smoke. However, you don't call the family to dinner before the spaghetti is boiling. I will have become a non smoker when n = last day of considerable span without cigarettes, projected, seems reasonable. I have tried to quit twice during my identity as a smoker. The first was a pact between myself and a friend. These things are meant to be broken, and it was. The second and last time I attempted it was at college. I think college isn't the best place to quit smoking. Throwing a horrible nagging feeling into the mix of academics doesn't help much with the stress. I bought a pack of Newport 100s (about the strongest sticks available) after three days. My motivation might have been skewed from the start. I was challenged by a nice looking girl, who said she'd give me "a candy bar" if I quit. It eluded me, how to approach the girl and collect on the deal. It did occur to me that I might be able to play the system and get more than one Oh! Henry out of the agreement.
A well known personality test said of me, "...Bites off more than he can chew, but manages to get it all done." Many "smokers" cease tending their addiction for certain events, Lent, a few weeks holiday, a month even; you know, 'cause it's good to quit. I have quit three times, determined only now. There are a number of factors that I believe are going to help, though they are negative in nature. I am unemployed, and not attending school. Also I have a very relaxed social life, at the moment. I have the time to contemplate, and break down, each mental grasp for the pack of smokes. Also, I'm not on any sort of schedule in which cigarette times are mounted up to. I'd suggest employers give medically insured workers the option of taking a half-pay sabbatical in order to trek through the first few weeks of desisting on the cigs. Of course, some playing of the system would make this method of help, probably, uneconomical. I know, if I had a job with health insurance and sabbatical, I'd be affording my ciggies.
On that subject of work, I mentioned that my reason for quitting is financial. Simply, I cannot afford it, unless I work. If I worked, I would undoubtedly smoke again. The rationale came when I put the two in the balance. I dislike work more than I like cigarettes. And, not pouring ten dollars into the U.S. Treasury each day is more punk rock than doing so and Fonz'ng out with a coffin nail.
Camping with friends, a late conversation led to existentialist pondering of the cigarette. One friend said she had been thinking of giving it up. Another said only, "It's a lonely world." I may not smoke, but I may never identify as a non smoker as do some quitters I've spoken with. I may belly up to the smoking circle and get the good word on the street. I may roll cigarettes for those with a lesser talent, or experience. My urges may mock me. Of course they will as I continue to go out for coffee, and have no preference for which section I be seated. I could not possibly want a cigarette more than I do right now, writing about how I do. And, I may find myself wanting one like this in the future, as my friends blow smoke rings around me in public places. They are existing friends, and I cannot think less of them just as I think no more of myself. I am no more elite, educated, or otherwise than someone who has been smoking during the past seven days.
Many of my friends smoke, if not most. I was raised by bad asses and the sexually underage. The fact that the dating ring has widened a bit is nice, come to think of it. Though, I would attach no new criteria. Foremost in the New Order would be what I profess of my experience. I pray not to preach. I will say this: By quitting smoking, one lives life more the way the majority believes he should. It may not be a better life, but it is in regard to how the alternative is lived when affected by popular opinion.