Yesterday’s count: 4
I am so very proud of myself for getting thru Saturday without becoming a chimney. It gives me hope; if I can sit at home in the rain all day long and only smoke 4 J’s, I can tackle this. Eventually. It’ll take some time, but I can do it.
Ran around yesterday doing 20 minutes of this and 30 minutes of that. Did a lot of things half-assed; the house got cleaned – kinda. Hoover, dust, did the mirrors and sinks – but all quick. Didn’t reach too hard to get rid of that dirt. I thought ‘good enough’ even as I zipped through everything. Bored, bored, bored. Tried computer games 4 or 5 times. Managed to get about half an hour each time before I thought ‘this is stupid’ and went on to something else.
My up and down and back and forth was the reason my brother suggested we go to a museum today. Been here over a year now and I haven’t really gone to any museums yet. Just money, you know? That €24 for the both of us to get in buys groceries for a week. But, being b-day month AND having a few extra bucks in the checking account (I don’t know how my bro managed it, but he did) we’re heading off to the Kunsthal today, which is the big museum in Rotterdam. As long as my feet don’t poop out on me, I’ve got a potential 6 hours there today. 6 hours safely away from smoking. Six hours just rambling, looking at art installations. Love it.
Find myself getting angry at the counseling center a lot. Find myself telling them in my head they can all fuck off for blithely stating I must get off marijuana for 30 days before beginning with them. That what they did is no way to build trust. That they really need to get their heads out of their asses and THINK before doing this to another person. That they know jack shit about me, and to make a knee jerk reaction statement like that is ludicrous. I expect my temper to simmer down a bit…got more than 30 days ’cause as we all know, I haven’t quit yet. Still….I have to see my GP about that referral letter, and I think she’ll hear about it. She doesn’t deserve my anger, so if I can’t say it calmly, I won’t say it at all. But I need to raise objections NOW. I’m not sure what the thinking behind all of this is, unless it’s that smoking CAN actually help with all my problems/symptoms, and they want to see me as un-medicated as possible to really asses me. If they’d said that, I could deal. They didn’t. They just intimated that smoking was bad and I needed to stop. And this from a society that’s cool with it. Hells bells.
My personal choice is to be so high all the time that I never come down. Any shit anybody wants to throw at me about how smoking makes you dumber or less active or WHATEVER – I can counter. Maybe it works that way on the average monkey. It doesn’t do it to me. Dumber? Explain my IQ results – all tests in the last 10 years have been taken while imbibing. Less active? Oh, honey! I NEED to be less active most days and can’t achieve it. Poor memory? Fucking test me. I’ll blow you away. Covers up emotions? HA! I WISH. I’ll cry a little less, rant a little less on marijuana but I’ve never STOPPED. Weight gain due to munchies? Please, sister, that’s simple mind over matter and I tackled THAT one 25 years ago.
The only valid reason in MY book to stop smoking is to help with my health: to lower my allergic reactions, to ease my non-stop sinus problems, and to prevent future lung disease. Don’t talk shit to me about anything else. Grrrr.
Apologies…nothing focuses your mind on one thing like trying to abstain from it.
And I gotta say…quitting while NOT beating my body is quite a juggling act. Once again, my saving grace is my brother who is keeping a close watch on me (What did I do to deserve him? I don’t know. Must have been something good, as the song goes.). Doing my best to listen to his suggestions without snapping his head off…which is getting hard. I was told to take it easy yesterday, to not tire myself out, because of the planned museum trip today. And I had a mini-aneurism while working on spreadsheets; just couldn’t get the formatting to work properly and I blew up. The LAST thing I have right now is patience. If I thought the world moved too fucking slow before when I was high, it’s NOTHING compared to it now, when I’ve cut back. For fuck’s sake! At THIS rate, when I stop smoking entirely you’re not even gonna be able to SEE me without a slo-mo camera shot ’cause THAT’S how fast I’ll be going. Goddamn! I’ll become a humming-bird: you’ll hear me humming some inane tune as I whip by, but you won’t see me moving.
Paradoxically, sleep hasn’t been too bad. I’m able to stay down for 7 hours and sleep pretty well. Not great; still waking up multiple times to look at the clock and see if it’s time to get up yet. But I can doze off, that’s for sure. And I know what will be said, the same thing the docs have said to me all this fucking time: IF I CAN SLEEP 7 HOURS I’M NOT MANIC. Yeah. Right. Come live in my fucking skin for a day. Feel what it’s like to want to crawl out of it. No concentration. No fucking patience to even contemplate fucking concentration. This isn’t some form of mania?
Getting to the point of saying WHATEVER, which in my book is another way of saying FUCK OFF. I’ll go to the fucking addiction clinic (whatever). I’ll talk to my GP (whatever). I’ll get off marijuana for 30 days (whatever). I’ll go to the REAL fucking counseling clinic (whatever).
And they’re all gonna have to deal with my fucking attitude. Cause, reaction. Simple equation, people. Piss me off and watch what happens. Maybe that’s what they want. Maybe they want to see me on the edge. They ain’t gonna like it. Hospitalization may be suggested. There’s a fucking good reason I’ve been smoking as much as I have been for the last fucking 30 years of my fucking life. If you want to see THAT come out, well, you’re doing all the right things. Just keep on triggering me. Go on. I fucking dare you, motherfuckers.
For the past few months I’ve been feeling pretty good. I’ve even passed by watching horror films for lighter material (in my book, even serious dramas tend to be lighter than horror). But I’m feeling the need for mayhem and death, and I’m guessing horror is gonna become a regular thing for me again. Nothing pumps me up like a good Romero zombie film or one of the Alien films…or Resident Evil films…So many good horrors! To both fight the horror AND embrace it at the same time…That’s where I’m at. One fucking bad-ass warrior.
You want it; you got it.