From www.dictionary.com

re·la·tion·ship (noun)
1. a connection, association, or involvement.
2. connection between persons by blood or marriage.
3. an emotional or other connection between people.
4. a sexual involvement; affair.

Just a reminder that relationships don't have to involve romance.

I'm currently stupid-face in love with a guy who doesn't feel the same way about me. I've accepted this and am trying to work around it, but it still hurts very much. This experience has taught me a very important lesson, though. I'm happier when I'm completely uninvolved romantically.

I could list dozens of reasons why my life is better when I'm single, but I feel that most of them would sound silly and petty. Maybe they are silly and petty, but I know from experience that I don't have a problem being single, conversely, I seem to have nothing but problems being attached.

Unfortunately, this person honestly wants me in his life as a friend. I know the friend line is usually a cop out, but he calls me regularly and wants to hang out. It's killing me to be around him, but I love him and he wants me around, so I'm there. He's not the most positive person for me to be around, love or not. He's having serious life issues right now and his coping mechanisms are less than healthy.

I'm not the type of person to abandon a friend when they are down, I think that's low, but I'm stuck between wanting to be there for him and knowing I need to put some distance between us. I think, lately, I've been doing much better, but I still slip up and get hurt. I'm just tired of the emotional expense.

Actually, I'm tired in general right now, so I'm going for a quick nap.

Next time: My friends. (Cue dramatic music)

It's a brand new day and I'm ready for some changes!

I've got all of my Breathe Easier paperwork printed and on the desk in front of me. I've set my quit date for April 28, which is the day I leave for the mountains, which is a few days before I spend 10 days around non-smokers in California. My stop-smoking buddy is Marie, and she's already agreed to it. As a person who has already quit smoking and has always been a good friend, I think she's the perfect candidate. Today is my first day of "smoking by the clock" as they call it. Basically, I am only allowed one cigarette per hour, and if I feel the need for more, I have to find ways to cope. This is supposed to break the instant gratification pattern.

I've made lists of coping mechanisms based on specific triggers and identified my two main triggers:

1. When I'm around other smokers, I cave like a West Virginia coal mine.
2. While driving, I sometimes light cigarettes without thinking. I chain smoke while driving.

They recommend replacing the habit of smoking with the habit of walking 30 minutes a day, but I have severe issues getting motivated to do any kind of exercise. This is something I may have to address separately.

I also have to talk to the smokers in my life to let them know what I'm trying to do and that if they are unwilling to support my efforts, I may have to avoid them.

Goals for today:
1. Smoke by the clock.
2. Call Marie.
3. Drink more water.

Yes, I want to quit smoking. Yes, I've tried quite a few times, and I've tragically failed each time. I'm not ignorant to the facts, and the only excuse I have to continue smoking is... get ready for this... I enjoy it. I've been smoking since the walking teen clichè next door let me take a few disgusting puffs off of a Virginia Slim stolen from her mother's purse when I was 12.


Art by Kurt Halsey

I am now 27 years old and I don't care if the kids in the caf think I'm cool enough to sit with them anymore. Now, I've watched several family members die slow, painful deaths from cancer, and suddenly, it doesn't seem so cute anymore.

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The American Lung Association states that:

* More than 430,000 Americans die every year from smoking-related diseases, including those who have heart attacks.
* Cigarettes contain at least 43 cancer-causing chemicals.
* Smoking during pregnancy is responsible for 20 to 30 percent of all low-birth-weight babies.
* Secondhand smoke is very dangerous for children. It causes between 150,000 and 300,000 cases of lower respiratory infections in children every year.
* More American women die annually from lung cancer than from breast cancer.
* In addition to cancer and heart disease (Smoking and Heart Diseases), smoking can also cause infertility, slow wound healing, and stomach ulcers.

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What's not to love, right? Okay, so I know that cigarettes will kill me in a cruel and unusual manner, I know that my habit is costing me a tank of gas a week (which, at press time, is pretty impressive), I know that I'm tired of smelling like junior college (and having my car smell like an all night diner), and I'm tired of feeling like an idiot because I know all of these things and am sometimes thinking about them as I light another cigarette.


My attempts up to this point have been kind of naive and macho. My dad always said that he quit smoking by not picking up cigarettes anymore. I have this picture of him standing over a pack, pointing down at it and crying out, "YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ME!" and then he laughs like Gargamel from the Smurfs, but I digress. For years, I would cross my arms and grit my teeth and quit cold turkey. Once, I made it three whole months. Any excuse to relapse was always welcome. This method is not working for me.

There are a lot of options out there, programs, patches, gums, inhalers, hypnotism, books, etc. At this point, I'm not convinced that replacement therapy is for me, so I'm (temporarily) crossing out the gums, patches, and inhalers. Hypnotism is too expensive, so that's gone, too. I'm left with programs, books, and therapy. I've heard really good things about the program that Oprah (who I trust more than I probably should) and Dr. Oz have put together, called Breathe Easier.

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I'm exhausted, so I'll pick up with Oprah and Dr. Oz the next time I have a chance.

Peace!

I don't want to make another list of well-intentioned goals.  I want to rip into my life and take no prisoners.  I want the unacceptable gone and improvements continuously in the works.  I want to forgive myself for two steps forward, one step back, but never forgive myself for settling for less than what I deserve again.  There are all these lives swirling around one another, tangling together, weaving, wearing, colliding.  This one's mine.  Get your own.

I'm unsatisfied with who I've let myself become, I'm a fat smoker who breaks her neck to help her friends with little to no ROI.  I have a long list of unfulfilled goals, dreams, wishes, and bad jokes.   My body is abused and neglected and I'm far from healthy.

I'm not really sure when I decided that being under-appreciated was acceptable, but I know it must have come at some point after I decided that everything that makes me who I am was not worthy of appreciation. 

Dr. Suess once said,  "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." 

Who the hell am I if I'm not myself, if I spend my days thinking about who I could be, or who other people might want me to be.  And one who contemplates "who am I?" or "how am I not myself?" for too long will eventually turn inside-out.  These thoughts leave one precisely where one started, sitting somewhere asking foolish questions. 

This journal, I hope, will be a record of me standing up and actually being me, with out twisting myself up about who that might be.