Last July when things turned upside down in my life, I started
smoking. I was dealing with an avalanche
of emotions, confusion, and life changes. I recall sitting on my patio thinking
“what now?” and I realized I could openly smoke a cigarette on my patio. I was reclaiming my patio and
my autonomy and exerting my new found life. That was very empowering for me.
Tony hates smoking and yes, I was exerting my independence. Sounds a bit
juvenile and spiteful, but I am looking at things as honestly as I can, so let’s
just call it like it is. I don’t consider this my display of healthy decisions.
However, I think handling things as I
did then doesn't need complete scrutiny. I made some very adult decisions as
well. I sought out help in the form of a good therapist and began attending a support group,
among other things. I gave myself
permission to handle Tony’s departure and the subsequent events with a vice. I
also decided at the time that I was giving myself a time limit to this smoking
binge. It just doesn't fit in the Healing Lane.
I've known that I picked up my smoking habit as a
replacement for the sugar and starch addiction that is a much greater issue
with me. My addictive behaviors are all interwoven, and whether it is
compulsive eating or smoking, I’m tired of not dealing with the underlying
issues. It just seems the right time to put some added energy into facing
whatever is it that I’m avoiding. The Healing Lane calls for it. So I quit
smoking this week. Yesterday, actually.
I’m learning the importance of doing things in my best
interest and to not seek acceptance through doing for others. Frankly, it would
have been easier to make the choice to give up smoking for someone else, though.
I’m working through those issues (Can I get an “amen” from my fellow codependents?).
So I note that I quit smoking for myself. However, I chose to quit at this time
in honor of my friend’s birthday. I knew that it would bring her happiness, as
she is in the medical field and has been very concerned for my well-being. She
has been a great encouragement to me for over 25 years, often much more
concerned for my health than I was for myself. These are the kinds of friends that
are precious gifts that we cherish close to our hearts. It was very timely to
make the no smoking commitment now.
I know smoking is really a disgusting habit and there isn't anything positive to say about its worth. So let me be clear: I am not
defending smoking. Now I want to confess how much I enjoy it. I miss my morning
smokes, my afternoon smokes, and my last night smokes. I miss the escape that it
brings. There is a comfort in some weird way. I need to unzip
here to be completely vulnerable about how long and deep this attraction to
smoking has been in my life. I was 13 the first time I started smoking
cigarettes. My friend and I were both dealing with family issues; her parents had
just divorced and mine were considering it. I guess it is no surprise that we
started looking for ways to appease the turmoil around and within each of us. I
continued my smoking through high school. I didn't carry cigarettes on me, but
if I was drinking alcohol, I smoked. The
social smoking pull has continued for most of my life in fact.There was a relatively short time when I
smoked regularly. I just decided to quit one day. Like that. I
stopped.
I would manage to pick up and drop the habit without much
struggle throughout my marriage, though. I was very unhappy in my marriage and
when I especially wanted to act out my anger at Tony I would go away privately to
smoke. In addition, I have usually smoked while I am away at a work conference each
fall. There have been a few times that stopping was more challenging, and I
realize these occasions coincide with other aspects of my life being in
turmoil. As an addiction, it has served me well in not addressing my problems. The problem is that
is the problem: I avoided the
problem. Hmm, sounds rather unhealthy.
Today, I struggle. This smoking for seven months has been soothing
in lots of ways, but with it came bondage. I’m working at overcoming the desire to medicate,
soothe, escape, and numb the feelings and thoughts of my life. The struggle is not
caving into a compulsive act in avoidance of those feelings. Whether the
addictive behavior is with a substance or a compulsive act, those of us caught in those
addictions should have compassion for each other. I am learning that we can
relate to one another by showing some understanding. If a friend is working
sobriety by giving up alcohol, then I can work sobriety without sugar (or cigarettes
or whatever). It is a mutual struggle. Her beer is my pastry; his gambling is
my smoking. We each have a journey and some
parts of it require more effort. It is
what it is, and so we press on.
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