i started smoking when i was 14. then i stopped because i had serious pneumonia at 18 which resulted in me having bronchitis every 4 months during following 3 years. when chest infections stopped i started smoking again. i quit when i was 25. when i was 24 my life turned upside down and suddenly i started valuing being alive, which included being in good health. i’ve met someone at 25 and we were together for 5 years. that relationship gave me a sense of purpose as well and suddenly i felt like smoking was standing on the way of being a responsible adult. i no longer wanted to kill myself with smokes. i wanted to breathe. it was not a happy relationship. it ended. and now i’m back to being my normal miserable self. i’m killing myself each day with fags and enjoying it endlessly. no, i do not care about side effects. smoking empowers me – that’s the bottom line. this week i’m abroad, however. i’m staying at my parent’s house. my parents do not know i smoke or smoked and i don’t really want them to know. it would give my mother yet another reason to freak out about what she’s done wrong and why everything i do is so awfully bad. my mom is extremely health-concious. she’s extremely controlling too. if my dad found out it would have given him yet another reason to bully me and praise himself. he quit smoking 5 years ago. he’s been humiliating each and every smoker during the past 5 years. so no, i’m not going to smoke at my parent’s house. i could buy cigarettes and smoke when i’m outside but the whole hiding thing seems to be a bit inappropriate for my age. i’ve done this when i was a teenager. i’m quite enjoying being an adult with my parents. being a child with them was a torture. i love having this power and independence. but…i do not smoke when i’m at home. and last night i’ve realised that i’m addicted to nicotine. i had a glass of wine and naturally wanted to follow up with a nice relaxing cigarette. but i couldn’t. the craving was so bad i thought i’m going to have a fit. i even started getting angry. so i had to have more wine. a different type of addiction, but nevertheless the addiction, compensated more or less for the deprivation i experienced when my body demanded a cigarette. was it my body? addiction is rooted in the brain. of course nicotine and alcohol have chemicals that affect our brains in particular ways. but, honestly, the main reason we get addicted is the emotional hang-ups we develop when we attach ourselves to particular substances (or whatever else it might be). smoking kills. but i like that. living on the edge, hey. rock’n’roll style. we all gonna die anyway. it’s the teenager in me that used to tell me that wearing leather trousers is cool. thanks god, that stage is over. but as an adult addict, there’s something else in smoking that’s extremely addictive. it’s the ‘me-time’. what if i’m not like those happy-clappy hippie type individuals that can go to yoga and experience some sort of ecstatic revelation afterwards. i do like yoga. but i’m too lazy to do it on my own and any contact with other human beings it too tiresome for me, especially if these individuals are trying really hard to be happy. let’s face it any sort of trying is tiresome. and i feel sorry for poor buggers. so end up encouraging them, making them feel good about themselves…basically, happy or unhappy, people drain me. people are lost, and i have no idea why i try to give them this sense of ‘ok’ness…that they are not completely lost. strange, considering that i’m lost most of the time. but i have some unexplainable acceptance of other people’s fortunes and misfortunes (both are hard) and always end up surrounded by people that develop some sort of dependency on me. similar dependency that i have to nicotine…or alcohol…nicotine and alcohol set me free. people drain me. people constrain me. so last night i analysed my relationship with addictions. i realise that i only feel alive when i’m dead a little. lately, i’ve been in so much pain that smoking has become an integral part of my salvation plan. what am i saving myself from? strangely, i managed to dis-attach myself from the intense craving that i’ve experienced last night and observed the suffering that seemingly occupied my mind. lost control, lost power… as i was writing this my father came into my room and tried to read off the computer screen. i went to another room. nobody ever respected my boundaries. no control, no power over my own life. so in a way smoking brings me back to myself. it grounds me. it makes me present. i have control. i have power. at this point this control manifests itself in the decision to have a cigarette. or not to have it. but that’s just a fixation. it’s a solution that works for now. because it’s MY decision. it’s MY power. it will pass i’m sure. i’m sure i’ll find another means to aid my salvation, whether it’s career, creativity, money…whatever else is out there…you can get addicted to anything. fixation does bring salvation. until it doesn’t. and so it goes…on and on and on and on. until i die. or stop believing in salvation. what am i trying to save myself from?
time for another glass of vino.


One Response to “salvation”

  1. quit smoking…

    […]salvation « nat's blog[…]…

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