Chiffon #130. The Stitch


Look it has nearly been two weeks since I started to document the process I have been subjecting myself to, that is, writing about my experience of being abstinent from cigarettes, marijuana, cocaine, heroin, amphetamines, sugar ,salt and coffee, oh yeah, and alcohol. The other day I requested, or more correctly suggested, that I have had enough of this experiment,  citing my usual lack of resolve to complete this task.

It was a weak moment for me and of course I was trawling for sympathy, nay, empathy, and a cursory lung full of tobacco smoke. I was curious about the reason dictating my decision. Upon analysis I had pretended I had a conscience and did not want to appear hypocritical, in as much as I must admit I have been allowing myself to have puffs of this and puffs of that. in order to get me through what is just a drag. Admittedly it is just air.

That is not the attitude, so arming myself with a new can of resolve and a somewhat ad hoc counseling session, which as you would expect urged me to continue, I continued. Well I didn’t continue. I just did not end up being given permission to throw my hands up in the air  and spend my energy time and resources on continuing developing the lung disease which has taken up residence close to my heart. And here is another piece of the truth. I don’t go to the doctor so I don’t have to hear about the hazards of smoking, or more correctly, what smoking has done to me already.

What I have been suffering from could be likened to that of the experience of running any great distance. After starting, the runner develops a stitch. This  gives the runner a reason to stop. But before I stop, let’s just have a look at what I have already achieved.

I have started abstaining (it is not an overnight process).
I have not given up the idea (it can only grow ).
I am becoming aware of the reasons for a relationship between myself and addiction and the purpose it serves.
Whether I like to admit it or not,  I don’t cough as much.
I don’t have messy shit, nicotine stains, black stuff, burn holes, going on in my life.
I can smell (other people’s) coffee.
Orange juice has a distinctive taste as well as being liquid.
I am dreaming about the possibilities (not the Olympics).

I suppose the one thing which is a negative and the hardest thing to accept is the irritability that goes with not getting your own way (having a smoke).

Abe Lincoln maintained people are only as happy as they strive to be, and so I would suggest that anger, irritability, smashing someone is all a symptom of ego/arrogance, which if you have a look at it is the one thing that is going to make staying gived up so much more unachievable, especially if you give in to it.

Luff Chiffon XXX

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