Smoking
Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2014 4:07 am
The first time I smoked, I was five years old. My dad had the bright idea that if he made me suck in some smoke from one of his cigarettes, I would never touch it after that. Alas, he was a moron.
The next time I inhaled was while traveling in Mexico at fourteen. My mom took me along on a "business trip" with everyone she worked with. They brought their families as well. She, two of her coworkers, and I, shared a suite on the shore of the Caribbean in Cancun. One day, she and the two coworkers/friends, went out. I found the carton of cigarettes that the resident smoker brought along and worked my way through half a pack. Made me sick as a dog.
I got serious about smoking at 19. Someone finally showed me how to do it correctly, and I fell in love with it. I stopped shortly thereafter due to pressure from my god and my mother.
I started up again at age 22 while in acting class. All the cool people stood outside and smoked. I kid you not. And it called to me.
I loved it. I loved the buzz when I first started. I loved being able to hide behind it socially. I loved being able to lose weight while doing it.
I didn't love the cost or the fear of dying or having to be outside when it was really cold.
I did my first serious quitting at 32. That was back in 2003. Didn't start up again until 2009 after the fire my husband and I went through.
Since then, I've quit and started again on and off. The restaurant was a bad spell. Started smoking the night we fed a group of people for free and many things went awry. Quit two months before closing and then started up again right after closing. Quit last year on Christmas Eve, then started up again when I had to get on the boat.
I quit after getting off the boat, and I hope that it's forever, but my gods I crave it so bad sometimes, and I feel like a fucking moron because I know how bad it is for me, and I want it anyway...
On the upside, I've gone from feeling this way several times a day to once or twice a week, so I have hope, but it's soooo damn hard!!!!
The next time I inhaled was while traveling in Mexico at fourteen. My mom took me along on a "business trip" with everyone she worked with. They brought their families as well. She, two of her coworkers, and I, shared a suite on the shore of the Caribbean in Cancun. One day, she and the two coworkers/friends, went out. I found the carton of cigarettes that the resident smoker brought along and worked my way through half a pack. Made me sick as a dog.
I got serious about smoking at 19. Someone finally showed me how to do it correctly, and I fell in love with it. I stopped shortly thereafter due to pressure from my god and my mother.
I started up again at age 22 while in acting class. All the cool people stood outside and smoked. I kid you not. And it called to me.
I loved it. I loved the buzz when I first started. I loved being able to hide behind it socially. I loved being able to lose weight while doing it.
I didn't love the cost or the fear of dying or having to be outside when it was really cold.
I did my first serious quitting at 32. That was back in 2003. Didn't start up again until 2009 after the fire my husband and I went through.
Since then, I've quit and started again on and off. The restaurant was a bad spell. Started smoking the night we fed a group of people for free and many things went awry. Quit two months before closing and then started up again right after closing. Quit last year on Christmas Eve, then started up again when I had to get on the boat.
I quit after getting off the boat, and I hope that it's forever, but my gods I crave it so bad sometimes, and I feel like a fucking moron because I know how bad it is for me, and I want it anyway...
On the upside, I've gone from feeling this way several times a day to once or twice a week, so I have hope, but it's soooo damn hard!!!!