It was about a year ago that I bragged on Twitter about how I had quit smoking again. Cessation lasted three months. I'm smokin, as of right now, following this lapse...after this cessation...after the lapse before that - after the cessation before that.
This last time, nine months ago, the problem was that I smelled a clove cigarette being smoked out back on somebody's patio. I had to have one. I drove to the store that minute, the minute of that craving, and I bought a pack of Djarums. I opened the pack outside the store and lit one up. It was heavenly. I walked across the parking lot to my car dizzy as a mu..fu..
I told myself I would only do this one little tobacco thing, and only occasionally. Then I had a special friend, who also is weak in regards to tobacco. She wanted one of these cloves. And then she wanted another and another and so on. She was sucking them down like they were regular cigarettes, so I said what are you crazy, that's fifty times stronger than a cigarette, and you're smoking it down like it's a regular old cigarette. She wanted tobacco bad. One drunk night (she was ten times drunker than I was), she demanded cigarettes. I said no no no. She said if I didn't go get us some dam cigarettes, she'd drive her drunk ass up there herself and get em. So I went. I got regular old Marlboro Lights. I came home and we smoked and smoked and smoked.
I know it's killing me, and I've been worried about my health generally lately. I went to a doctor office this week, and they took my blood pressure, which is high, high-ish, 138 over 79. The nurse practitioner asked me how long I have smoked. It was hard for her to grasp the timeline. "Twelve and a half years ago I quit after having smoked for ten years and two and a half years ago I started back up again but quit quit again for three months and then started back up again and have now smoked this time for nine months."
I've joked around about how: I'm from Virginia, the 'Tobacco Colony,' I'm supposed to smoke. It's the whole basis of Virginia history, of America's history. Tobacco put us on the world map, on the trade route. But that's only a little bit funny.
I have to have a sense of humor about it because it is a deadly addiction that is slowly killing me, and I am willingly taking part in. My neighbor said it's slow suicide. He was/is/was a heavy heavy smoker. He got into 'vaping' ...and he's like a broken record with that shit now, "We gotta get you into vapin, man." He takes his dog on walks, or he hangs with me on the stairs, and he's always with the 'vaping device' around his neck, clear tube with lights on it and a button and intricate tiny components inside, strapped around his neck with lanyard; and he's steadily inhaling through it and puffing plumes of the latest vaping flavor vapors into the air, various scents: pumpkin cinnamon, perhaps, or mocha frappuccino or black licorice. He even mixes his own blends, and he wants to become an internet billionaire selling them. He told me some of the chemicals he had to purchase in order to get started, and I'm sure his name is now on an FBI list.
I know it's killing me. I have a weird attitude towards death ever since I became a brainwashed spiritual seeker. But the truth is we're all going to die. We don't know when. What are we going to do about it...etc etc.
When I first started back up smoking at my current workplace, it was embarrassing. The designated smoker spot is right near where everybody comes up out of the parking lot at the beginning of the day or lunchtime. Some people break my balls. Others pretend they don't notice. They'd never seen me smoke before. They must be thinking: "What in the world? He started smoking at age...whatever his age is (it's hard for people to tell my age)..." Answer: no, I have a history with it. So does America!