This year, I celebrated my not-so-welcomed 35th birthday. My life hadn't turned out exactly like I had planned. Divorced, over-weight, still in school, and a smoker wasn't exactly the me I had aspired to be. I decided it was a good time to make a few resolutions.
I was already losing weight, I couldn't make school go any faster, and I couldn't undo my divorce even if I wanted to, which I most definitely did not. So, I settled on quitting smoking. It's a nasty little habit that makes your teeth yellow, your breath and your clothes stink, and really isn't very attractive. But I had lost family members to lung cancer and that meant that I was at a higher risk of developing it myself. I had to stop.
It isn't an easy thing to do. The truth is that it is an addiction - and not just to the nicotine. Nothing beats a warm cup of coffee and a cigarette on a chilly morning. The physical and emotional connection is just as bad as the chemical one.
I don't know how, but I managed to break the habit. The process of quitting left me plenty of time for a little soul searching and a lot of moments where I desperately wanted a smoke. So for all those people out there who are trying to stop and finding it difficult, I just want you to know you are not alone.
and breathe in the toxic intoxication of grey whispers
floating out the end of my burning world.
Loved ones tell me to stop
because the white javelin is a murderous lot who plays with death
and ticks my lungs into feeling full.
But I don't want to stop
when my head spins and heart calms at every intake,
a rush which nothing else can match.
They didn't stop,
mom's mom and dad's dad, foremothers and fathers
now dead from this addiction.
So I know I must