Well now. Day 3 of the challenge and all I could think of for C, is a delicious and delightful thing that I cannot use, because I didn’t mark my blog as having adult content in the signup process. That’s fair enough, but I was stumped. I did the c word crowdsourcing thing and friends mentioned calcium, coffee, chocolate, caracals, chalk circles … good stuff, but I was struggling to join love and a word count with those topics. And the answer was right there all the time, blowing smoke in my face. Cigarettes!
C for caveat: if I had it all to do again, I’d never start smoking. If mixed episodes didn’t kick my ass every time wellbutrin gets me off them, I’d quit. Even my psychiatrist told me not to quit at this stage. Blah blah smoking kills blah breastfeeding blah blah cancer and also, cost. Those are all utterly valid and so kids, if you don’t smoke now, don’t ever do it. Use the money on sex and rock n roll instead.
Have you heard Rufus Wainwright’s Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk? I love that song, it’s the only song that contains smoking that I love and it suits me down to the ground.
I smoked socially from age 20 to 22, and then my bro died and I smoked like an addict from then on. These days I justify it, by telling myself that having given up alcohol, sex and coffee, I deserve a vice. I drink decaf occasionally and caf much more occasionally and I have no idea whether celibacy is forever – that is a C word that I do not love. None of those things were difficult to ditch though, so my rationale is irrational. Without justification, the truth emerges. I am addicted and I don’t want to give up enough to wrestle through the addiction and the mixed episodes enough to follow through with it. If someone says I’m trying to give up or I’ve given up or you should give up, I instantly feel a major urge to light up, inhale and continue blackening my lungs and my prospects.
I’m so sorry if that distresses anyone who has lost someone to lung cancer or emphysema – I really am.
Onwards with the polluted truth … smoking ain’t glamorous or wise or healthy and it costs a bomb. I’d never recommend it to anyone. But I do it and I’ve done it for 22 years (half my life) and although I would like my shrink to help me quit … well who knows. I’d like to stop spending money on it; I do not want to lengthen my life. The oral gratification pleases , and I am foolishly deluded enough to believe that it reduces rather than increases stress. I love smoking. I will smoke a cigarette for any/all of you that tell me to stop.
I know I’ve contradicted myself, I know that it’s incredibly stupid. I just don’t care enough.
So many C words, so little logic.