I have never smoked (apart from the one drag I had in school which almost made me vomit). It isn't the fact that it's hard for a smoker to quit that I find difficult to understand, it's how they ever got started on the things in the first place. This article is written by me, but is from the heart, and in the words, of my man...a smoker.
At the age of just 6 years old I was sent to boarding school by my parents. If this wasn't enough to cope with, I soon became the butt of everyones jokes when the nickname they christened me with became 'slug' due to my size. To become one of the gang I did what the big lads did...and started smoking at the age of 11.
I achieved my goal of becoming one of the gang, which also meant having to try the various other substances that were smuggled into one of the best private schools in the UK. This made me and many other folk very 'happy' with life in general (this was the early 70's!).
So, here I am, 39 YEARS LATER and I am still smoking (although all the other stuff had gone from my life by the end of the 70's, along with the long hair and platform shoes). I have tried to give up a couple of timesalthough rather half-heartedly I have to admitand failed dismally.
In those 39 years, the amount that I have smoked in a day has varied from 5 to 70 cigarettes. As any other smoker will tell you, those little sticks keep you sane when times are rough, relationships are going wrong, and money is tight...yet we still seem to find the money for those ciggies hey.
There have been other occasions, when I have been in hospital for example, and have only managed to sneak 1 or 2 in. I have dangled precariously out of bathroom windows, nearly bursting stitches, just so that I could have the 'fix' that I so desperately needed.
Further offenses have now included smoking in a public place, when it is forbidden EVERYWHERE, and looking furtively about like a common criminal.
I have tried to stop smoking 3 times.
I had a partner a few years ago, who was also a smoker, so we decided to try and quit together. We started again roughly 2 weeks later before one of us killed the other.
I tried to quit for the second time around a year and a half ago but failed due to lack of willpower I guess. I had promised my new girlfriend - a non smoker - that I would stop, but after a fortnight of a stinking attitude (mine, not hers) I chucked in the towel.
The third time was as a result of a heart attack last year. I stopped for 3 weeks and then, like a fool, gave in to the cravings. It was the 'spend every waking moment thinking of nothing else' syndrome. I had some harsh words from my Cardiologist about smoking and weight and drinking too much coffee, while he sat outside the hospital caf with a fried egg butty, a black coffee andyou've guessed ita FAG!
My parents were both heavy smokers but managed to give up when they both got chronic smoking related illnesses. My father has emphysema and my mother died of cancer at the age of 68.
I have more than enough reasons to stop smoking, and I know it. I have already had one heart attack, I am 50 and overweight, but the fear and anxiety of even thinking about packing up scares me so much.
Rationally I know that I do not really have a choice, but then part of me thinks that, hey...what if I cut down to 10 a day...will that be OK??
In every other aspect of my life I am in control but, my God, I hate these things that I seem to need as much as the air that I sometimes struggle to breathe.
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