I Still Miss Smoking

My husband is out tonight for a few hours and OF COURSE it crosses my mind to light up.  I could have a smoke outside in the dark alley because the babies are sleeping and he’s out and I could shower afterwards and nobody would ever know.  NOBODY WOULD EVER KNOW.  That is the alcoholic in me talking.  That sneaky, I could get away with it part of me that I wonder will that ever truly go away.  I have these thoughts because I am still a smoker.  I am not smoking, but I am still a smoker.

Here’s the thing, even if nobody knew tonight, I would fixate on it until I could have another.  It may not be tonight, it may not be tomorrow, it may not be next week, but my brain is wired to obsess about this until I can get my fix.   I happen to be an alcoholic and that’s obsessive alcoholic behavior that can apply to anything in my life, but it’s also just a smoker’s behavior because that shit is so highly addictive.

I’ve written about smoking a lot.  Because it’s still a part of my life in that I still miss it.   I keep writing about it because it is something I know many can empathize with, whether you are a current smoker or an ex-smoker, or someone who loves a smoker, it impacts a lot of us.


Even though I’ve quit, I cannot tell you how often it crosses my mind.  When I smell smoke, I still inhale deeper.  I still lean in closer to get a whiff of that good good stuff.  I still have the desire to grab that smoker on the street and cram my tongue down their throat or at least make out with them a little bit just to get some smokey goodness inside me.

I miss being a smoker.   I know how fucked up that sounds.  I know how disgusting and terrible it is.  I always knew.  The whole time I smoked for 11 years, I knew.  And yet, I loved it more than anything else.  That’s what addiction is.  And the tricky bastard that is smoking cigarettes is the worst kind, because you can still function and be in your right mind and work and drive and take care of your family and all that normal functioning part of society shit that you can’t do on drugs or alcohol.  Smoking kills you slowly, booze does as well.  When used in excess.  In the immediate moment, smoking won’t alter your behavior, but you still get a fix.  That’s why so many people do it.

I can say it didn’t alter my behavior, but it really did.  I would crave a smoke so badly and then once I had one I would go about my life and then go onto craving another and the thoughts in my head would be obsessive about when and how I could have that next smoke.  If I was out in public, I would ALWAYS find the place I could smoke before doing anything else.  Flying was torture.  Anything requiring me to sit still for any length of time was dreadful. People in my life had to wait for me constantly because I was always smoking before going in someplace or right after we left and everywhere in between.  So it did impact my behavior, make no mistake.

I have no desire to start smoking again.  I work too damn hard to pick up and start all over again.  It’s not for the babies that I’ve quit and it’s not for my husband and family.  It’s for me, IT HAS TO BE FOR ME, and, in turn they all benefit from that choice I make every day, today and in the future, hopefully.  Somehow smoking is tied to independence and having something just for me and having an outlet.  I only started smoking when I quit drinking, so it was my pacifier for 11 years, and I miss it.  I miss everything about it.  But that is just a feeling, and I don’t have to act on that feeling.

I am by nature, self destructive.  If left to my own terrible decision making in the moment, I would choose something that’s bad for me.  Whether that is what I cram in my mouth or what comes out of my mouth in the way of judgement or saying something negative.  I’ve worked my ass off to alter my natural instincts in both what goes in my mouth and what comes out.  I choose not to drink and not to smoke and try really hard to make good choices with my words.  Just because I feel something doesn’t mean I have to say it.  And let’s not even talk about food as I’m failing miserably with that lately.

Being healthy in mind and body is hard work.  It’s not something that I’ll ever do well or that will come naturally to me.  I just try every day to make good choices and be grateful for how far I’ve come.

Now, I won’t have that smoke tonight, so I won’t obsess over one tomorrow.  And if somebody could just set up the coffee maker for that teeny tiny cup of coffee I’m allowed to have tomorrow morning while breastfeeding, nobody gets hurt.


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