i quit

so i stopped smoking. i’ve been a cigarette smoker all of my adult life. until 24 days ago. E-40 says everybody got choices. so when i ran out of cigs a few weeks ago i chose not to buy any. just to see if i could go without a smoke break for a while. it’s been a long ass hiatus, and one i’d never envisioned myself taking.

i do miss smoking. it was one of my “favorite” things to do. i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to explain that without catching side eyes aplenty, but i miss it. that matters.

people who love you, and some who don’t, will encourage you to quit smoking. they will say it’s because they don’t want you to die of cancer or struggle with emphysema. they will show you or remind you of what smoking does to a person’s lungs. they may bring in the “my/your (insert relative name or relationship here) died of cancer cause they smoked” card. you know that card with the person they loved and hollered over when they passed. the one y’all both knew but never really did anything for when he was sick. you, because you ain’t know them like that and them, because they just didn’t. they will tell you all about the truth campaign and those new commercials with the people who’ve suffered horrific diseases and medical issues because of their smoking addiction. they will bribe you with things. they will use experiences and people you love (even children) to convince you that NOTHING that a cigarette could offer you would be better (insert time, experiences, etc. with thing or person mentioned). they will become frustrated when you relapse. they will tell you as often as possible how bad cigarettes smell. they may even tell you you can’t smoke in their presence. they will eventually give up on you ever giving up cigarettes even though it’s an addiction, and scoff every time you try to quit. they will badger you about smoking, but if/when you quit, they will be as quiet as church mice.

i dunno why i started smoking. i don’t think it matters. my therapist disagrees. i saw all the people i loved smoking when i was a kid. my parents and their friends smoked. was that it? was it the cool cowboys i saw on those few westerns i watched? aeon flux? candy cigarettes i never was able to have because sensitive teeth? was it the PTSD? did the abuse i suffered as a child push me to become addicted to something that could kill me slowly because i was too much of a coward to try to trip the light fandango with death of my own volition?

what they don’t tell you about quitting is that there’s more to the withdrawals than just wanting a cigarette badly enough that you’ll consider rabbit punching your mama while she’s frying bacon just to get a drag. they don’t tell you about the fatigue. the heartburn. the “colds” or the discomfort in your mouth. they don’t tell you that your body will basically curse you out as it works its ass off trying to clean up the mess you made with your predilection. all they tell you is that you should probably quit because smoking is bad.

“chew some gum” they say…. gum doesn’t help if you get mouth ulcers, or like me if you don’t have the ulcers but definitely have the pain. i also grind my teeth, which has been exacerbated by the lack of a vice to calm me at night. gum ain’t good for that sis. be blessed.

they also don’t tell you that it takes about 2–3 weeks before you can do any amount of exercise without wanting to kick yourself in the face.

and SUGAR! my kingdom for a salad. since i quit smoking, i’ve started drinking coca cola again. and juice. like juice from the store. i don’t do that. but my body wants all the things i haven’t been giving it. like cheeseburgers. pray my strength in wheatgrass.

i guess i’m happy i quit. according to this app i’ve saved over 100 dollars in less than 30 days. which i’m sure is good. i’ve also saved 1 day and 12 hours of my life. which i’m sure will be spent giving some ass wipe a blank stare or side eye. today, i wrote about how i’d quit smoking and then had the nerve to say something to the tune of “but my friends haven’t acknowledged it”…. i caught myself, drew some brackets and edited my own stream of consciousness and said to me “fuck that. just be proud”.

i thought about using this to segue into a rant about a post i did on IG and how people that i thought i knew showed me their whole crunchy black asses. but i won’t. at least not on this post. namaste.

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