Nicotine
This is something I've been wanting to talk about for awhile, and I'm having a really bad craving right now that I want to try and not satisfy. I started smoking cigarettes when I was 13 years old. It's sort of one of those romantic stories, if you consider romance the way I do. My friend and I would use my green faux-snake skin eyeglasses case to put her mum's half smoked Malboro 100 lights in, then we would sneak off into the woods and smoke them. Once in a great while, we would even get the most golden opportunity to slip one or two whole cigarettes right from the pack and into my case, then we'd slip off into the woods.
My father smoked cigars, I don't remember if he smoked cigarettes, but I've always liked the smell of smoke. My mum is very strict on things like smoking and drinking in her personal life, she never touched either. My brother chewed tobacco and smoked every here and there. I was always warned because addictions run in our family. But every since I was a little girl, I had a strange fascination with cigarettes. How, I'm unapologetic for this, simply cool and sophisticated a trail of smoke looked as it curled from painted lips in movies. How badass a man looked as he lit a smoke after watching an explosion. They looked so great, like they would make everything feel better. Whenever someone was mad, or sad, or felt anything really, they just sparked up and it went away. I can't remember not having the fascination, I would take lollipop sticks or kitchen straws or anything really, and hold it to my mouth and pretend to smoke.
So then I got older, and made friends with someone whose mother was conveniently a smoker, and figured I would go like that. Once every week or two, we would bum our half smoked Malbs, and that was good enough. Then there was a car trip to somewhere in Massachusetts, where the whole story got laid out on the table. Her parents, who were and still are very much like parents to me, had figured out our little game. Kind of. They knew I smoked, but not her. They too said they had always figured I would smoke. So, on this car trip to the Dance Gavin Dance concert in Mass, they tried to smoke me out. But it didn't really work, because I'd been stealing them for quite a few months now, and if anything I was craving more. The best part was watching my friend sit in agony, desiring a smoke like it was oxygen.
Ever since the failed attempt at smoking me out, my friend's mum has bought me cigarettes. I was probably 15 when it started, however at 15 I would get a pack once or twice a month, which was more than good enough because I barley had an opportunity to smoke once a day. Her folks would drive us home from school and let us smoke in the backseat of their car, which was so cool. Plus, my mum never caught onto my gag until I was 16, because I could easily blame her parents on the smell.
But in the past year, I've been smoking a lot. A lot more than I ever intended to. I have lots more stories, little moments that all revolve around smoking, and it's kind of funny how something so taboo has really benefited me so much. I got a job, so now I pay her mum for cigarettes, and I feel like I go through easily a pack a week, if not two. Which was never in my game plan. Now, I doubt I could ever go through a pack a day, I feel no urge and it would become a nuisance to me. I smoke the most when I'm driving, which I do a fair share of, considering I work nearly every day and hang out with my friends most nights. I smoke a lot at my friends houses, because most of their parents don't care about what I do. I don't smoke often at my house, because climbing out onto my roof gives me anxiety, but right now...
I always thought the thing about addiction was total bullshit. Seriously. I was so sure that it was just a totally mental thing, and if you could focus on something else, it would go away. So me trying to explain my addiction will be hard to understand, but I'll have a shot at it.
If I have cigarettes on me, I'm fine. But when I run out and I don't have an easy access to them, I immediately stress out. If, in my head, there is no source of nicotine, I will start to not panic, but get very annoyed and frustrated. Last week, my friend and her mum went out of town for a few days, so I had to resign to packing lips. Something I swore I'd never do, but I just craved the nicotine. I needed something to give me that buzz, to make me forget that I couldn't smoke. But it doesn't compare to cigarettes.
So if I have them on me, I'm all good. But sometimes, it's all I want. Like right now. I'm fine, seriously, I don't need it. I just really, really want it. But I know the roof stresses me out and causes unwarranted anxiety. But I fucking want it so bad. I would feel better, if I had it in my lungs. I'm not freaking out, I'm not stressed, but I just really crave it. It's like when you just started your period and want fast food. You're aware that, no, it isn't vital, but fuck if it doesn't feel like it is.
Some days, I toy with the idea of quitting. It's very strange for me to think that I've been smoking for 4 years now, and I know it's a bad habit, but I have no reason to want to quit. I'm comfortable with the habit, although sometimes I annoy myself with it. To be fair, I know that I go to college next year, and I turn 18, and I know that I could quit now but I would pick it back up in no time. To me, it's not worth gaining the weight, or having the mood swings. Not right now.
But I am going to go smoke, because I've talked about it too long. I thought writing about it would curb the need, but I guess I was wrong. My overall advice is never smoke, even if you think you'll be fine. It creeps up on you, and it's not glamorous. You have to brush your teeth all the time, worry about what to check on the questionnaire in the physicians office because you're underage, run out of breath if you start doing exercise too rigorous too fast, and a hell of a lot of other things that no one should have to worry about in a perfect world. Smoking totally sucks, but it's so hard to stop.
My father smoked cigars, I don't remember if he smoked cigarettes, but I've always liked the smell of smoke. My mum is very strict on things like smoking and drinking in her personal life, she never touched either. My brother chewed tobacco and smoked every here and there. I was always warned because addictions run in our family. But every since I was a little girl, I had a strange fascination with cigarettes. How, I'm unapologetic for this, simply cool and sophisticated a trail of smoke looked as it curled from painted lips in movies. How badass a man looked as he lit a smoke after watching an explosion. They looked so great, like they would make everything feel better. Whenever someone was mad, or sad, or felt anything really, they just sparked up and it went away. I can't remember not having the fascination, I would take lollipop sticks or kitchen straws or anything really, and hold it to my mouth and pretend to smoke.
So then I got older, and made friends with someone whose mother was conveniently a smoker, and figured I would go like that. Once every week or two, we would bum our half smoked Malbs, and that was good enough. Then there was a car trip to somewhere in Massachusetts, where the whole story got laid out on the table. Her parents, who were and still are very much like parents to me, had figured out our little game. Kind of. They knew I smoked, but not her. They too said they had always figured I would smoke. So, on this car trip to the Dance Gavin Dance concert in Mass, they tried to smoke me out. But it didn't really work, because I'd been stealing them for quite a few months now, and if anything I was craving more. The best part was watching my friend sit in agony, desiring a smoke like it was oxygen.
Ever since the failed attempt at smoking me out, my friend's mum has bought me cigarettes. I was probably 15 when it started, however at 15 I would get a pack once or twice a month, which was more than good enough because I barley had an opportunity to smoke once a day. Her folks would drive us home from school and let us smoke in the backseat of their car, which was so cool. Plus, my mum never caught onto my gag until I was 16, because I could easily blame her parents on the smell.
But in the past year, I've been smoking a lot. A lot more than I ever intended to. I have lots more stories, little moments that all revolve around smoking, and it's kind of funny how something so taboo has really benefited me so much. I got a job, so now I pay her mum for cigarettes, and I feel like I go through easily a pack a week, if not two. Which was never in my game plan. Now, I doubt I could ever go through a pack a day, I feel no urge and it would become a nuisance to me. I smoke the most when I'm driving, which I do a fair share of, considering I work nearly every day and hang out with my friends most nights. I smoke a lot at my friends houses, because most of their parents don't care about what I do. I don't smoke often at my house, because climbing out onto my roof gives me anxiety, but right now...
I always thought the thing about addiction was total bullshit. Seriously. I was so sure that it was just a totally mental thing, and if you could focus on something else, it would go away. So me trying to explain my addiction will be hard to understand, but I'll have a shot at it.
If I have cigarettes on me, I'm fine. But when I run out and I don't have an easy access to them, I immediately stress out. If, in my head, there is no source of nicotine, I will start to not panic, but get very annoyed and frustrated. Last week, my friend and her mum went out of town for a few days, so I had to resign to packing lips. Something I swore I'd never do, but I just craved the nicotine. I needed something to give me that buzz, to make me forget that I couldn't smoke. But it doesn't compare to cigarettes.
So if I have them on me, I'm all good. But sometimes, it's all I want. Like right now. I'm fine, seriously, I don't need it. I just really, really want it. But I know the roof stresses me out and causes unwarranted anxiety. But I fucking want it so bad. I would feel better, if I had it in my lungs. I'm not freaking out, I'm not stressed, but I just really crave it. It's like when you just started your period and want fast food. You're aware that, no, it isn't vital, but fuck if it doesn't feel like it is.
Some days, I toy with the idea of quitting. It's very strange for me to think that I've been smoking for 4 years now, and I know it's a bad habit, but I have no reason to want to quit. I'm comfortable with the habit, although sometimes I annoy myself with it. To be fair, I know that I go to college next year, and I turn 18, and I know that I could quit now but I would pick it back up in no time. To me, it's not worth gaining the weight, or having the mood swings. Not right now.
But I am going to go smoke, because I've talked about it too long. I thought writing about it would curb the need, but I guess I was wrong. My overall advice is never smoke, even if you think you'll be fine. It creeps up on you, and it's not glamorous. You have to brush your teeth all the time, worry about what to check on the questionnaire in the physicians office because you're underage, run out of breath if you start doing exercise too rigorous too fast, and a hell of a lot of other things that no one should have to worry about in a perfect world. Smoking totally sucks, but it's so hard to stop.