Smoking is My Identity

I am a smoker. I have been a smoker for over 30 years, 37 to be exact. Back in the day, smoking didn’t have the harmful results, or so we thought. We weren’t bothering anyone, and everyone smoked. It was the pause that refreshes. You know what I mean. Come on, we were sucked into the marketing campaign, hook, line and sinker. But that was then and this is now. Smoking is bad for you and everyone around you. The problem is I am an addict and I can’t quit. You could make it illegal; I will still find a way. Even when you tell me I can’t smoke on your property, I will still find a way. That is what addiction is, a force that will drive you.

It is part of my budget, part of my lifestyle statement. It is who I am. You see me all over the place. I go only to coffee shops where I can smoke. I slid out of parties to stand out side with all the other smokers. Off to the side of course, but still I find a place to smoke. Aren’t I disgusting hiding in my garage because it is raining outside, just to have a smoke? I don’t fancy myself the Marlboro Man, or Joe Camel. I am just me, and this is what I do, smoke that cigarette.

I keep trying to quit, but nothing seems to work. The patch worked for my friend, so 45 dollars later I have a patch stuck to my arm. I snuck out behind my house and hung the patch on the wall while I smoked a cigarette. One cigarette that I bought at the store for 50 cents. I figured that the arm was not sensitive to the nicotine, so I stuck it on my tummy. Half hour later I am ripping my clothes off to get that patch off my skin. Not easy when you are driving down the freeway at 75 miles per hour. I pulled off and bought a pack of cigarettes.

Then there was the gum. I had a friend that quite using the gum, so I put down another $45 dollars and chewed, and chewed, and chewed. The pepper burned my mouth, and my cravings increased. I was a wild woman. If you were breathing, I was yelling at you. So I bought a pack of cigarettes, because I had to go to work. And they do not understand when you are screaming at your customers because you need a cigarette.

I have tried it all from will power to medication, and now I am down to it is my identity. I couldn’t possibly admit that I am your garden variety addict. Still searching for a real answer to my addiction. I figure I have been good for about 4 months now. Don’t you wish you could say that? For the most part a pack will last me about a week. That is fabulous considering a pack a day for awhile was pretty good.

So how do I maintain my identity, and hang out with non smokers? Easy, I switched to an alternative smoking device. For lack of a better word, it is an electric cigarette. I charge it at night along with the cell phone, and it is ready for me the next morning. I have my coffee and a few drags off it, and I am good for most of the day. Every now again, like when I am paying bills or listening to politicians tell me how much money they are going to pull out of me, I need to have a real cigarette.

Now I have a choice though. And where I am not telling myself to stop, I am not obsessing over the smoking. It actually works out to give me more time doing the things I enjoy, like going to the movies. Yeah, I was the one that always had to sneak out and grab a smoke and missed the best parts. With the electric cigarette, from I just smoke away, and no one even knows. There is no smell, no lighters, and no butts.