Giving Up Smoking: This Is Gonna Hurt

Entries of a former chain smoker, attempting to make a home run...

[this-is-gonna-hurt]

Day 5: Spam sandwiches and a new pair of headphones...

Welp, day 5 and only post #2 - how disorganised am I... If i’m honest, i’m just lazy. Moving on...

Yesterday was unadulterated hell. Worst one yet. Only my second day back at work since i’ve given up, so my routine is still totally on it’s arse. Usually, i’d have 2 or even 3 smokes on my 35 minute commute to work, maybe even sneak out for one mid shift, 3 on a 1 hour lunch break and 3 on the way home. So i found myself with a lot of free time yesterday, which was an extremely strange sensation. My one saving grace however is that despite not even being past the first week, my voice has improved by leaps and bounds. Higher, louder, more versitile, easier to manipulate throughout some very acrobatic runs and more sustainable at the top end. Everything i needed to happen. I haven’t stopped jamming for the last 3 or 4 days straight, and its been absolute heaven. This however didn’t stop me from having about a 4 and a half hour rage yesterday morning. The management at my workplace are laughably ridiculous to the point where when they aren’t around, weirdly, we all get on with what we need to do and more often than not hit our targets, or at least get a hell of a lot closer than we do when we’re micromanaged by people who’ve literally never done our job, therefore dont understand it whatsoever. ANYWAY, they’d once again come up with a ridiculous scheme of another team coming and setting up a totally seperate production line right in the middle of our space, and i mean they couldn’t have put it in a better place even if they were trying to get directly in my fucking way. Unfortunately for them, they had no idea what they’d just let themselves in for...4 hours later after having this weird ginger dude throw shit about and be extremely (barely passively) passive aggressive, we let out for lunch. Long story short, i screamed absolute bloody murder at a line of traffic after a contruction lorry had gone to turn into the construction site right in front of us all, and ended up stranded in the middle of the road - all i can say is don’t get in the way of a dude who’s just quit cold turkey and when he’s trying to reach the shop for his motherfucking tuna sarnie! Then, like a lightswitch, i was happy as a pig in shit...smiling, laughing, having a little sing song to myself, absolutely cruising through life. How very backwards...

Today I woke up feeling as though I wasn’t bereft of the problem child referred to in my household as 20 B&H Blue, which is a good sign. Granted, i couldn’t sleep for dreaming of a fag or 9, and despite the fact that the first thing i did once getting up at 3pm was fry some spam and a couple of eggs and smash it down my face in front of Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman’s Long Way Round, generally i think cravings of all types are beginning to subside. There are only still a few moments out of the day that aren’t filled with utter despair and the feeling of being abandoned by a best friend, but the balance between them is becoming less and less biased towards a nicotine rush. I’m finding i’m having plenty of really fucking weird dreams since i’ve started replacing fags with food, but thats bound to happen considering how heavy my smoking was, and given how until recently my horrific eating was very much at a similar point. I find i can breathe better already though, so i plan on taking as much of an advantage from that as possible whilst i can still appreciate it as somewhat of a luxury, before perspective shifts and its simply the new norm. 

All things considered, i think it’s going okay. I haven’t wanted to tear anybodys teeth out with a pair of pliers today, but there’s still time. And tomorrow from what i hear is expected to be a long day at work with orders, so we’ll see...

Right, time to be a normal 20 year old for once - play some video games, listen to Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It and stay up far too late for work in the morning...go on, off you fuck ;)

[this-is-gonna-hurt]

Day 2: a big bag of crisps and a packet of skittles...

Yup, i’m starting this on my second day of no smoking. And for no good reason either, other than my own painful lack of organisation and ineptitude in regards to actually executing any goals. 

ANYWAY. 

Let’s start with brand. Having been an off and on (but MUCH more on than off) smoker for coming up to 8 years, since not long before my 13th birthday, i’ve smoked a lotta shit. Rarely anything other than tobacco of some kind, mind you. From the most crumb and bark invaded, under the counter bought 50g, £6 pouch of what was allegedly “Amber Leaf”, to 80 Benson and Hedges Blue Superkings per day, i’ve always been happiest with some sort of tobacco product in my back pocket, or even better, hanging outta the corner of my gob. It’s become a part of my makeup as a bearded, overweight 20 year old human. Dumb, right? 

There’s always going to be the argument of ‘it isn’t my fault, my whole family were smokers when i were lad’, a reasonable retort to anyone ironically wheezing in disgust at such a mucus spitting based lifestyle, and in my particular case is very much applicable. I’ve been told many a time of my father smoking sweet sweet Golden Virginia out of our back door in Coventry as a new born, in arms baby. Weird that i ended up a severe asthmatic, eh? Regardless, a few weeks into my return home after being born, all smoking in our household ceased. Days and days i screamed, until father dearest licked the rizla once more and sparked his cheap Nisa plastic lighter, at which point our neighbours could finally sleep, and so could my dear mum as i stopped being such a drama queen and presumably resumed receiving that sweet-ass second hand nicotine rush. 

Onwards though, into today’s antics. I hadn’t been awake 45 minutes before i’d lost my shit and screamed at my multicoloured, oil burning money pit that other people call a 2 decade old Ford Fiesta, to the point of struggling to speak when apologising to the McDonalds car park attendant that’d truly shat his pants when i couldn’t get my ever fulfilling shit pile of a motor vehicle into reverse in order to continue on my way to work after realising the hot, warm steamy latte i’d conjured up in my head was in fact not waiting for my on the other side of the Maccies front door, since they didn’t open until 7am...incidentally the same time i was due to clock in to begin another day of sorting through tenderstem broccoli for slugs n shit. This situation did not sit well with my ever enraging need for nicotine and caffeine, especially after the 2 hours and 12 minutes of sleep i’d accumulated after being up most of the night, stopping myself from grabbing the Amber Leaf 3 in 1 out of my drivers door and going to town on the half pouch of tobacco. 

In reality, i’m nowhere near as much of an ungrateful twat-stain as i sound, the dry sarcasm in almost every word above is just simply needed at times. I’m extremely lucky to be where i am in life, in spite of more than a handful of set backs, shitbox car and all. And more than ever i’m aware the fags need to get kicked for my health, especially not being particularly healthy weight, diet and exercise wise on top the smoking. My mother shouldn’t have to watch me destroy myself in the ways that i’m so so sure will come to fruition if i were to continue on the path i’d comfortably and consciously deep rooted myself upon, all for the sake of a nicotine rush for fuck’s sake. Or even worse, plan a funeral. As dramatic as that may sound, i’m aware of my health otherwise, and i know how i feel within myself, and i’m more than well aware of the poor genetics absolutely yeeted at me from every direction. Not only that, I would in fact like a shot at my career as a musician, and no matter how cool you look in a 3 piece suit with an inch and a half thick Romeo y Julieta cigar hanging outta the right side of your cake hole whilst ripping into a blues solo like a cheetah with Joe Exotics nutsack, smoking ANYTHING as a singer is one of the most irresponsible things that any artist could do. In fact, i’m very much looking forward to experiencing some positive change in the vocal area as more time passes. That’s one of the things i plan on talking about, as its one of the main reasons i’d even considered doing this. There always comes a point when it just isn’t funny anymore and we need to take ourselves seriously. 3 days ago was that day, and i’m looking forward to  seeing what happens in the very near future - mentally, vocally, creatively, physically etc.

RIGHT. It’s time for a cup of tea. It’s fucking well 4.38am and i’ve got a very ironic programme to watch on American barbecue meat smokers. Welcome to my world of complaints, moaning, and hopefully a decently received sarcastic yet positive take on one of the biggest personal humps i’m going to have to drag my very own fat ass over in order to reach such a huge and personally set goal. Positive thoughts...in through the nose, out through the mouth...count to 10... now FUCK OFF!!!