Good news!
Last week, I remembered for the first time in I don't know how long what it feels like to just be. To just go about my day, do what I do, and just live in those moments. Most of the time, especially at work, I'm just running out the clock until my next cigarette. I would probably smoke all day long if my lungs could take it. I've never been a chain smoker. I might get through one and a half, and feel "full." But most of my day just feels like keeping myself busy, getting as much done as I can, until I can smoke again. Until Tuesday. I didn't think about cigarettes at all. As the day progressed, I only noticed what time it was and how many cigarettes I hadn't smoked, followed by a very satisfying feeling of not wanting one (not just "not yet" but "not at all").I've considered quitting before, because I generally feel lousy when I smoke. With the flick of the lighter, and the first inhale comes this Debby Downer sensation that just says, "damn it" in a very disappointed tone. And I am disappointed. I disappoint myself every time I smoke. I've never been the smoker that blows smoke in anyone's face, or smokes wherever I feel like without asking if anyone minds. I don't even like pictures of me if I'm holding a cigarette in them. In a way, I hide my smoking. I've never been proud of it. Feeling like I can do whatever I want wherever I want, without shame is something I'm holding onto to keep on keepin' on without cigarettes. This progressing satisfaction feels familiar, and it's giving me hope that I have the strength and willpower to never smoke a single cigarette ever again. I've felt this feeling before....
Why do something that doesn't make you happy? I look at pictures of myself then and I'm disgusted with how I look. I'm disgusted with myself that I let it happen, that I did it to myself, that I chose to hurt myself. To this day, there are some places I don't like visiting or even passing by, because I associate them with that time in my life. I don't hang out with the same people. As much damage as it caused, I know everything happens for a reason. I appreciate my curves now that I know what I look like when I'm unhealthily thin. Everyday life bullshit doesn't get me down the way it used to, because no matter how bad things get, I know they'll never be that bad again, and they'll never be as bad as they could be had I continued. I don't know where I would be if it weren't for my friend. I know he will always be a part of my life, no matter how far away, or how frequently we see each other, I know we'll still love each other when we're old and grey.Once upon a time, I smoked meth. Overall, I smoked for about three months. It started as a party thing, twice or so a month. Then it was a weekend thing, which progressed into an every other day thing. Which is a lot considering that the high can last eighteen hours. I lost twenty pounds. I failed a drug test and it ruined my career in the Marine Corps. I got to see the look on my parents' faces when they could see that I was killing myself. One day, I looked at my naked body in the mirror after showering. It took maybe thirty seconds before I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. I called a friend over, he saw the environment I was living in, and we packed up my shit and left. Over the next month, he fed me, sheltered me, and loved me. He told me if I ever smoked meth again, I couldn't be in his life. I haven't touched it in three years. It's easy to quit something that causes so much damage to your life. I became happier and happier the longer I went without it. My curves came back, my stress went away, and every day the sun shone brighter than the last.
Today is the one week mark that I haven't smoked a cigarette. And I'm feeling great. I'm planning grocery store trips to eat healthier, I've discussed revisiting P90X with my boyfriend. Maybe cutting out fast food, soda and candy is too much to add on top of quitting smoking. Maybe it's a lot of pressure. But I don't feel it yet. I feel really fucking great about it. Why not overhaul all my unhealthy habits? Why not now? I've learned from experience that talking about things doesn't necessarily make them happen. I've learned how to make shit happen. There is no try: do or do not.
I've never known anyone to be this far gone, nor did I ever act like this myself, but here's a prime example of a tweaker, and why no one should ever think about touching meth:
I just want to say thank you for sharing your story. I have seen that drug completely ruin people I used to call friends, people I no longer know because I could't help them change. It's always such a bitter feeling, never to them, but to the substance. My Aunt was a user as well, she used to take me on runs to sell the shit when she babysat me. She has been clean for some time though and the struggle was out of my immediate family. But my boyfriends mother abuses worse than I have ever seen and takes her younger kids a long, we don't know if they have been directly exposed but pray that they haven't seen anything. At any cost, your story is a wonderful one to hear, if you saved yourself once, you can do it again. I think my Aunt might be using again, she spent all of Christmas passed out on a partially deflated air mattress, if she is using again, its probably because she is in the same small town, no more family around. I'll try to keep in better touch, text her more often, maybe if I can be partially as close as your friend was for you...Thank you.
ReplyDelete