This may come as a shock but….I smoke. My friends laugh at me because I keep saying my parents have no idea. They laugh because every coat I have smells like a cigarette. If I’ve been to the bar then it smells like five cigarettes. One time my mother hugged me (which I always avoid right when I get home because I would have just been finishing that sweet afternoon smoke on the drive home) and inquired about it. I told her I was quitting. I’ve been “quitting” for about two years. At one point you just admit that you aren’t quitting anymore.
I had my first cigarette at the age of 15. I had maybe two more before I turned 18. Once I turned 18, then well… I became a smoker. It was the one thing I could do legally and it made walking across Alma’s short campus so lovely. Also, most of my friends smoked and so it became like a bonding thing. I smoked Camels for those two years away and when I got home to Detroit, there was a brief period of not smoking. There was an even briefer period when my parents seem to tolerate it but that didn’t last long.
One of the most annoying things about being a smoker is that you have friends that like to remind you the hazards of smoking right when you light up. Two years ago my grandfather died of emphysema. Years before that he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I know the consequences of my actions so telling me does little more than create an annoyance until I take the first beautiful puff. It’s hard to explain why I would keep smoking after having watched my grandfather die what felt like a slow death so when people would ask, I’d shrug. Smoking is addictive.
My favorite cigarettes were KOOL XL Green. In a pinch it would be Camels. Camels Crush was second place and when I would “bum” a square it could be anything. I even smoked Virgina Lights recently because the woman I asked just gave me her last three. It was the best part of my night. If you were to look in my glove compartment, the first thing you would see was an army of empty green boxes.
I can come clean about this now because I’m actually quitting. Oddly enough, it’s not because I’m all that concerned about my health. I’m a little concerned about my health, but that isn’t the major reason. While I loved smoking, and I can’t say that from time to time I might have one, it was starting to bug me. I missed being able to hug my mother without spraying first. I would carry an extra shirt in case I wanted to go see my niece and would sometimes avoid going to see her all together because I needed that smoke. It’s also annoying going outside in the cold to smoke. Seriously, I live in Michigan and in May I won’t be able to smoke in bars. *eye roll*Also, smelling Camels on my clothes got really old but not really fast. I used to smoke right before a workout (stop judging) and as I sweated, I swore there was a fog around me. I used to love the smell of cigarettes. It made me warm.
So I am on day 4 without a cigarette. This is the longest I’ve gone in a while, on purpose. I’ve been sick since yesterday but sickness never really stopped me. So wish me luck or what not. I hope I actually start feel better. I’m not apologizing for anyone I blow up at though during this month because they probably deserved it.