It is a cold, arid winter day. Though moisture appears to cover the ground, the air contains as much moisture as the mouth of a thirsty drunk. A man wanders into a bar. A customer who usually comes in 4 times a day, he suddenly disappeared three days ago; this is his first time back inside. He calmly orders a cranberry juice, and sits back and watches the other patrons partake in his usual poison. He watches them with wonder, a small pang of longing through the quick...
Welcome back to the blog. I'm sorry for the short hiatus while we figured things out (as of this posting, my previous blogs are now available at http://bit.ly/5fxqlk) and while I was sick... hopefully in the next few days all of my posts will actually originate at www.nakedcitywichita.com.
In the meantime, I plan to keep you all updated here. SO - welcome to day 4a, as it were. A difficult yet wonderful day for revelation (and some corny writing--see above).
I thought I would enjoy writing some sort of introduction that would allude to my present state, but wouldn't completely give things away. (That, and I enjoyed writing it.) Well, I got sick again. This time, it was a mixture of migraine (Monday - super FUN) and flu-like achy symptoms with a much more mild headache on Tuesday. YAY for the crud. That's the bad news (along with 2 missed days from work).
The good news is that I did not smoke a single cigarette during my two day venture away from the world. And today, I returned to the working world... where... wait for it...
I did NOT have a single cigarette. Again, I used the mantra of quitting one cigarette at a time. And many thanks to my loving wife. I was able to speak to her during the height of the "I-just-returned-to-work-and-my-brain-is-going-to-explode-with-too-much-to-do"-itus (this is a syndrome that I will someday have placed in the DSM, and become a bazillion-aire!) She reminded me, with a casual and comedic boxing motion, that all I needed to do was quit this one cigarette.
It was enough for me. Enough that I was able to stop myself. Enough that even though I took a BREAK with a friend with whom I have smoked, I was able to resist and tell her that "I'm okay"... what's more - I actually meant it. I really was okay, for the first time during the heart of a "I NEED A CIGARETTE RIGHT NOW"- breakdown, I feel like I'm finally on the road to recovery.
As we continue on, I'm going to talk more about the first day (not as bad as last week) and the 2nd and 3rd days (much worse). But the thing that I kept remembering was that I have a number of people counting on me to quit, myself not the least among the throng.
I think that the Chantix has done exactly what I needed it to do. It took the edge off of quitting. The same way that this blog helped me through the most basic premise of all - the dreaded anticipation.
Of those smokers reading - how many of you have told yourself at least 5 times that you're quitting, then let the date pass and kept on smoking? 10 times? 20?
I would belong to the latter group, having told myself probably no less than 50 (conservative guess) times that I would be quitting with this next cigarette, or this next pack. Then the day would pass, and I would find myself thinking about just 1 more cigarette, or just 1 more pack... seriously, after 11 years, how much harm is 20 cigarettes going to do?
But that's the problem with smoking, as with any addiction. Only the addict can see the justification for that next fix. And I'm starting to see smoking that way. It was a way for me to get a fix.
It was also a lot more than that. It was a way for me to stop and get a mental break. It was a calming time alone. It was good conversation with good friends. And, weird as it sounds, it was New York City. My memories of that town are endlessly bound in cigarette smoke. But, as I imagine I will corroborate further through my future writing, primarily it was a means to an end. I told myself that I needed a break... did I do that because I did, or because I couldn't concentrate because my body was telling me it was time for another cigarette?
This question, and many others like it, are going to haunt me for a long time. But in the meantime, I'm going to enjoy my life with my family. I'm going to enjoy work, and working hard, because I believe in an honest days work. And I'm going to enjoy watching my son try to eat things he shouldn't (like leaves off the floor while Daddy is in the next room writing) and Mommy running to him to stop him. Now, as my son's laughter takes me away...
The man smiles and wishes that the world was different. He wishes that his need hadn't outweighed other things in his life for the past 11 years. But, sitting in the bar, looking at the poison to which he has professed his love, he feels the grip loosen... and he smiles.
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