QuitFail (or maybe more appropriately QuitStumble...)

I think that may be my first apropos use of the term "___Fail"... made popular by our internet culture. It feels good, even though the reason doesn't so much.

Welcome to day 3. The day that I thought things would be going better and where I wouldn't be feeling so much like CRAP... The day where I was wrong.

Over this weekend I decided a few things.
The first - I am going to call the doctor to find out about Chantix or another quitting AID first thing Monday morning.
The second - I have a really hard time when my routine gets shot to hell... which, actually, includes my pervasive smoking habit.
The third - Quitting sucks. Did you know that? So does smoking, I know... but man... just the process...
The fourth - I decided to have a cigarette. I have had 1 now during my first three days of quitting. And damn. It wasn't as great as I remembered. I actually got a little bit light headed. I'm pretty sure that it was MOSTLY psychological... but I guess I wasn't smoking all that much before... either way - important lesson for the kids... I am not perfect.

This does not mean that I'm not quitting. It does not mean that I'm going to smoke every day or every time I think about it. (If it did, I would have had about 200 cigarettes this weekend, not 1). But - it certainly did hurt my pride.

That was part of the reason for writing this blog - to hold myself accountable to myself and everyone who feels strongly about smoking and the potentially negative effects of cigarettes. And man - I was SO excited to write about it! (excited probably the wrong word... embarrassed, sad, disappointed, and a number of others are much more likely culprits)

So - that's why the 'funny' title... but I'm still on the path. Never fret, my friends, I will do this. But I want to be up front with you about both my successes AND my failures.

Alright - on to the fun part -

Today I want to continue my story of when I started smoking...

I think I left off talking about how I started because of a play that I was in. That wasn't the part that was difficult. It was actually easy at that point, because it didn't taste good (until the show was nearly over, at least), and I was only smoking about 3-4 cigarettes a day. Say what you will about the medical evidence, I'm just not sure that 3-4 cigarettes a day will ever be an amount that will kill someone. However - the problem is keeping it at that number... This is neither here or there... so - BACK to the story.

A few weeks after the show closed I was faced with a conundrum. Should I continue smoking, something that I had always reviled (but was starting to enjoy) or should I continue to hide it. At this point, telling my parents was something that I just wasn't okay with doing. Telling my girlfriend (at the time, who shortly after became my fiance, and then my wife) was slightly easier, but she had grown up in a house where smoking had been prevalent, and it drove her crazy.

SO - though I told Jen that I was smoking, I told her that I would quit. I don't think that I intended it as a lie that first time... I think I truly intended to quit. But now, almost 11 years later, it seems that I obviously didn't succeed with that one, huh.

A few months went by, and I generally tried to NOT smoke around anyone. I was still living at home, so basically I could smoke in the morning before I went to class, I could smoke AT school (WSU), and then I could smoke late in the evening after everyone went to sleep. I did this for a while, and at some point realized that I was, actually, lying to just about everyone about it... but though I had come to this realization, I also didn't know what to do about it.

A few months later, I moved out on my own, and then it got worse. Because then I wasn't waiting for anyone to leave the house in the morning, I wasn't waiting for anyone to go to sleep in the evening, and I could go outside whenever I wanted.

I continued to feel that it was important for me to hide this from Jen. I told myself that I wasn't really lying, I was keeping something from her that she hated.

I knew, inside, that I was really trying to be the perfect person that I knew I wanted to be for her. I also knew, by this time, that I was actually addicted to smoking and that I wasn't going to be quitting of my own volition.

Then, one evening, Jen came over to the apartment. For some reason, I had to run out to my car. When I came back in I heard a door close (the closet, I thought) but when I opened the door Jen was sitting on the couch, and she said that she needed to go. It was late, so I didn't think anything of it.

About 10 minutes after she left, I went to my closet to get a cigarette out of my coat. Inside the pocket, with the cigarettes and the lighter, was a piece of paper. I had no idea what this could be. I pulled it out, hoping that I had left some money or something in my pocket, to find two words written on the paper. "I Know"... in Jen's writing...

Caught in a lie. To be continued.

Day -2 - Back in the Saddle

Today was the first day back to work after 4 days off. It was actually a really great day, but it was really hard. It turns out that I really AM able to turn things off when I'm at home, now that Forrest is here.

But, aside from all of that, today was a good day. Productive. 6 cigarettes throughout the day, which was more than I had intended, but not terrible.

Now I'm getting ready to go to bed, hoping to wake up in time to work out tomorrow. The past few mornings I've just been so tired that I haven't been in the mood to do anything but go back to sleep, as quickly as possible.

Whe I think about smoking, it usually inspires good feelings. But since Forrest has been born mostly all I have felt is stinky and old. It's so frustrating to stink, to not be able to come close to him until I've washed off completely and often changed clothes. It drives me crazy. And yet...

The compulsion to smoke, to continue smoking... is sometimes overpowering. I mentioned earlier how pervasive it is. A friend of mine remarked on facebook that the hardest thing about quitting for HIM, was all of the times that he encountered firsts. Like - the first few weeks riding in the car without smoking (oe that I've thankfully given up for almost a year ow)... the first time that you go out onto the porch to read without smoking, the first time out at a bar... those times... and countless others.

Smoking is a habit that infiltrates everything that you do. For me - smoking is relaxation. Smoking is release. It's a time when my head can clear completely, and I can just do nothing... be nothing, and still be okay.

The rest of the time, it seems like I live the cliche rate race... always moving and trying to get to the next thing. And somehow, I've turned smoking into this mecca-like existence. It's kind of sick I think, and yet I continue to be drawn to it. Even now, I'm thinking about how nice it would be go to back outside after I'm done writing this... to just go outside and read and relax... when I should just be doing to bed. I shouldn't NEED to do that... and I don't need to.

Signig off. NOT going outside. Just going to get the laundry from downstairs and go to bed. Thanks for being there for me while I'm doing all of this. Your support means a lot to me.