Illusions

In a typical 'which came first?' scenario, I wonder sometimes when I am feeling blue and apathetic, wouldn't just one puff help? Did I ever feel quite this blue as a smoker? Or was it just hidden better.

Dr. Christiane Northrup, author of 'Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom' said in one of her seminars that people who smoke are extra sensitive. Much the same as an individual who overeats and thus puts a 'barrier' or a 'layer' between themselves and others, the smokescreen operates on the same premise. It places an effective barrier between us and others, and ourselves and well, ourselves.

If I had a disagreement with someone, I would I would often go outside and puff angrily away. During these mini sojourns, I would feel my anger or frustration dissipate. Feeling calmer, I would return in a more reasonable state of mind, firmly under the illusion that it was the cigarette that quietened my nerves and enlightened me. Actually, it was the fact that I'd gotten away from the situation to think clearly to begin with, as well as the 'feeding of the nicotine monster within' in a double combo that effectively blinded me to what was really taking place.

We tend to think the smoke is relieving, and in a way - it is. But the only thing it's relieving is the call for more nicotine, it is not answering to anything natural within us. Inhaling toxins and noxious fumes is about as far away from 'natural' as we could possibly get.

When we think of times that we have smoked, we come up with a myriad of reasons; we're stressed; we're relaxing with friends; an early morning pick-me-up; a late evening puff before bed; we've 'earned it' from our work-out; as a reward for housework; when we fight with our significant others; after we make-up with our significant others, and so forth. The truth is, we smoked all the time for whatever reason we could come up with, but the real reason is that we are addicts.

I have seen this symptom more clearly now than ever before in a man I am seeing. There would be a long space of time where I would see him visibly become agitated, then he would go outside for puffs and come back with this nearly beatific countenance. It's actually rather eerie. And unbeknownst to me in any real state of awareness until I stopped, I was exactly the same way.

In Allen Carr's book 'The Easy Way to Stop Smoking', he speaks of a kind of revelation of sorts. A realization that makes us wonder why we ever started in the first place. The first time I quit smoking, I had exactly that epiphany. It suddenly seemed unbelievably ludicrous to be choking and sputtering as well as paying exhorbitant prices to do so. I was astounded that I had defiled myself in such a manner for so long, and this thought process made quitting actually, quite easy.

But when I so cavalierly started again, I had no idea as to the real damage I was doing to my psyche, for then started the cycle of accumulating a large amount of associations with smoking. It also reinforced the illusion that I needed a cigarette to get through a rough life experience. This is not true. If we're honest with ourselves, does smoking really stop the pain of certain life circumstances? Absolutely not, the relief is only a brief respite from an addict getting his fix, period.

During many losses in my life, I can't ever say that puffing the weed made any experience easier to bear. Even though the struggle has been more difficult this time around, one of the strongest reasons to remain quit is simply that I do not ever want to repeat this process again. The smoke screen now removed, I am busily re-generating myself, learning to get back in touch with my emotions and feelings.

Although it is a cathartic and wondrous experience, there are times I grow weary of it and wonder briefly if it things would be easier as a smoker again. I know this is the addict dormant within, who raises its ugly, charred head at any sign of vulnerability, and I know that I must stay on guard until the voice is silenced.

Does it feel like it's taking a long time? Sometimes. But more often I am so grateful that I am a non-smoker, that I even did something I didn't deep down believe I ever could, that I realize that it hasn't even been a year, and I am close to where I'm supposed to be - for me. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.

So how much time are our lives worth? I think they're worth a lot! And I think a few days, a few weeks, months or even a year, is a small amount of time for freedom, a miniscule amount for good health.