Smoking: A thousand ways to die. Why pick this one?

Written a few years ago, this recounts my addiction to nicotine, and attempts to convince me to stop smoking. It has thus far failed, but I'm trying.

I spent my first 14 hours without a cigarette yesterday. That was the longest stretch of time I'd gone without a nicotine product of some sort in 4 years, since I'd started smoking.

I had started to smoke at first when I was 18. The very first time I smoked nicotine, it was a black and mild. Cheap, dreadful cigars. Smoking anything beyond half of one made me sick to my stomach, but it calmed me. Got me to relax in situations which without that vice I otherwise wouldn't be able to.

I always promised myself; no, not cigarettes. I won't be like my father. Then, as most tragedies start, a girl entered my life. This was during my stay at Youthbuild, an organization which groomed me in ways no educational complex had before. She was a heavy smoker. A panicky, adhd riddled girl, she would take anything she could get her hands on; despite being underage.

Over time, bonds with fellow students were formed, thus, I was invited to multiple parties. Mostly unintelligible gatherings where weed and large amounts of liquor were consumed.

During one of these events, a girl had offered me a choice. She asked if I'd prefer a half a Xanax or a bogie, a smoke. Feeling pressured, but not pressured enough to override my need for acceptance at that time, I took the cigarette.

Before I knew it, I was 18, running to the store for my dad constantly to buy him cigarettes, and pining to be given some upon delivering them to him.

The addiction festered, there came a point where I would smoke 16 or more of them a day. I concede there are many whose addiction runs far deeper.

After all that time, having gone 14 hours without them, and being reminded of the hunger their absence causes, how your brain begs you to find more, how your mind gnaws itself longing for more, I will say this.

I will stop. One agonizing day at a time.

They will kill you. You are not special. Your lungs will dread getting up to work in the morning, hacking and spewing blackened mucus out of your mouth.

It will ride through your throat, causing a burning sensation as it passes by the microscopic holes in your trachea, and the ball of carcinogenic garbage will ride over your burned tongue, your taste buds singed and opened.

You are not special. There are thousands of ways to die.

 Why pick this one?

Author's Note

Nothing noteworthy to discuss. Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[DarkArtz 0703]

im underage and I've been smoking for 6 years on my birthday... I've tried many, many times to stop but the voices and whispers got to me in the end.... this is something that has me ... thanks for sharing
~k

[Numerology]

I'm glad this was something you could relate to, sympathetic that you deal with that.

If it helps, one thing I had to realize, simply to curb my habit, was to start exercising and getting good sleep. I had sleep problems for years. With good exercise and a decent sleep schedule, I was much less stressed, and this in turn lead to a reduction in smoking. I hope that helps, and that you have a better go of it.

[Numerology]

The core thing I suggest addressing is your stress levels. Analyze your day, break it down, try to find the culprit(s)

[April Blue]

I really like the description here, I could imagine everything in my head as I read it.. Nicely done..

[Numerology]

Thank you. I'm glad you read this.