Quitters Never Win: My Quest to Give Up Smoking (Part I)
God smokes Camel Lights. This I am sure of. The creamy blend of Turkish and American tobaccos, augmented with the perfect combination of sweet nicotine and sticky tar, makes for a most luxurious momentary departure from reality. Because after all, isn't that what these cigarettes are really all about; delusion?
We, as humans, as New Yorkers, have given ourselves over to every half-assed rationalization, only to later regret it as we arise at 5:00 am to smoke a cigarette before returning to bed for another three hours. We regret it as we empty the three ashtrays that, like lighthouses to seamen, are the beacons of our addiction. We regret it as we shell out $8 for twenty cigarettes, half of which will undoubtably wind up in the hands of beggers and other passersby (our friends). But what is it exactly that we regret? Is it our weakening immune systems, our scratchy vocal chords, our lowered lung capacity, our increased heart rate, our dwindling supply of disposable income, our offensive odor? While our regret probably has much to do with all of the aforementioned, I think that it stems from something far more significant; far more insidious.
Perhaps that feeling we get when we smoke our third cigarette of the hour stems from a deeper, subconscious regretfulness, the roots of which can be traced back to our formative years, right before we started smoking. At this time (about 13-17 for most smokers) we were full of life and joy and optimism about the future. We fully believed our parents when they told us we could be whatever we wanted when we grew up (if we stayed committed). And then we went to High School, College, etc. and found a group of people who had given up on that dream already. "Life is suffering, brah. Like, the best you can hope for is to be sustainably miserable. At least we have cigarettes, dude." And although you knew that they would kill you, you lit up anyway because stoner-Phil "makes some interesting points". That was the beginning. That momentary compromise of ideals that would eventually burgeon into an entire way of life.
The regret we feel when we smoke a cigarette, it comes from our regret of that initial compromise. Because once we accepted a slightly lesser version of ourselves, one that could smoke cigarettes, we could accept any version of ourselves, no matter how obscene that person would become; slacking off, eating poorly, not exercising, not calling our grandparents, not remembering our parents birthdays, not going to that job interview, etc. etc. etc. Because the initial compromise of smoking cigarettes involves such a definitive break from the past (remember all those years you told your parents that you would "never smoke"?), any subsequent compromise is exponentially easier for us to make.
And once we come to the conclusion that we need to QUIT, we can't imagine making that change because it involves more than just quitting cigarettes. It involves a deconstruction and reformation of our entire way of life. We need to not only quit smoking but we must also quit compromising our ideals, in general. Instead of constantly accepting a lesser version of ourselves, we need to do the work that is required to build our ideal selves. And this is extremely daunting because most of us cannot even remember what that ideal self is or was. But quitting cigarettes is the first step in rediscovering the person you gave up on being. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself whenever I have a craving.
This is my third day without cigarettes. I'll keep you updated on my progress and/or the deterioration of my will.
We, as humans, as New Yorkers, have given ourselves over to every half-assed rationalization, only to later regret it as we arise at 5:00 am to smoke a cigarette before returning to bed for another three hours. We regret it as we empty the three ashtrays that, like lighthouses to seamen, are the beacons of our addiction. We regret it as we shell out $8 for twenty cigarettes, half of which will undoubtably wind up in the hands of beggers and other passersby (our friends). But what is it exactly that we regret? Is it our weakening immune systems, our scratchy vocal chords, our lowered lung capacity, our increased heart rate, our dwindling supply of disposable income, our offensive odor? While our regret probably has much to do with all of the aforementioned, I think that it stems from something far more significant; far more insidious.
Perhaps that feeling we get when we smoke our third cigarette of the hour stems from a deeper, subconscious regretfulness, the roots of which can be traced back to our formative years, right before we started smoking. At this time (about 13-17 for most smokers) we were full of life and joy and optimism about the future. We fully believed our parents when they told us we could be whatever we wanted when we grew up (if we stayed committed). And then we went to High School, College, etc. and found a group of people who had given up on that dream already. "Life is suffering, brah. Like, the best you can hope for is to be sustainably miserable. At least we have cigarettes, dude." And although you knew that they would kill you, you lit up anyway because stoner-Phil "makes some interesting points". That was the beginning. That momentary compromise of ideals that would eventually burgeon into an entire way of life.
The regret we feel when we smoke a cigarette, it comes from our regret of that initial compromise. Because once we accepted a slightly lesser version of ourselves, one that could smoke cigarettes, we could accept any version of ourselves, no matter how obscene that person would become; slacking off, eating poorly, not exercising, not calling our grandparents, not remembering our parents birthdays, not going to that job interview, etc. etc. etc. Because the initial compromise of smoking cigarettes involves such a definitive break from the past (remember all those years you told your parents that you would "never smoke"?), any subsequent compromise is exponentially easier for us to make.
And once we come to the conclusion that we need to QUIT, we can't imagine making that change because it involves more than just quitting cigarettes. It involves a deconstruction and reformation of our entire way of life. We need to not only quit smoking but we must also quit compromising our ideals, in general. Instead of constantly accepting a lesser version of ourselves, we need to do the work that is required to build our ideal selves. And this is extremely daunting because most of us cannot even remember what that ideal self is or was. But quitting cigarettes is the first step in rediscovering the person you gave up on being. At least that's what I'm going to tell myself whenever I have a craving.
This is my third day without cigarettes. I'll keep you updated on my progress and/or the deterioration of my will.
posted by The MTA at 11:06 AM
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