I smoke, I have smoked for more than a decade. In the early days, I did enjoy it. Unbelievable it may sound, it used to make me high for a few minutes, it felt different. But, most importantly, it made me feel cool and that was the sole reason I had started, I wanted to be cool and accepted as such. I loved the shape of the puffs I made. How naive one could be? Did it make me such? No, I was still the same stupid, ignorant guy. The cigarette didn't make me cool neither famous. If that was not worse already, I also committed the sin to get two of my closest friends systematically addicted to smoking as well. I gifted them death and lesser life.
I kept finding reasons to smoke. For the first few years, I never accepted that I had developed an addiction. For me, it was just one of the experiments with youth. I always thought I could quit any moment I want - which was also true to some extent during those formative years. It took 5 years for acceptance to finally arrive when I tried to quit for the first time and only Lord knows how miserably I failed. I failed spectacularly, I was not even able to wait for the next stick. That was the beginning of my struggle. Anyway, it didn't really bother me; I still thought nothing of cigarette. Though, this time, I changed my reason to smoke. I thought I was young and without cigarette how could one enjoy, how could I enjoy a glass of whiskey once in a while, how could you go to a party and have fun, how could I hang out with friends.
Since then I have grown up with white hairs and beards. The false need for being cool and fun was long gone but the cigarette stayed, it remained loyal. And, then I reached a state where every puff tastes like ash in the mouth, but did I quit? I tried, I tried very hard but cigarette refused to leave, it followed me wherever I went. Sensing my reluctance, it then promised to enhance my happiness and take my sorrows away. I believed its word.
The stick of cigarette had now evolved into an emotional need.
And, that's where every smoker suffers tremendously when they try to quit. Your friends and family debunk you for not quitting. It’s poison. Don't we, smokers, know that already? It's not about habit anymore. Quitting is now about severing the link between the stick between our fingers and the emotional needs that it promises to fulfill. How could you quit so easily if in case of separation, one (cigarette) keeps coming and you keep yearning for them as well in their absence. Almost nobody understands it. A constant reminder, a steady debunk is not helpful, it's not even kind, it feels like borderline cruelty. Even if you don't realise, you are mocking us unknowingly. If someone gets sick, do you ridicule them? By ridiculing, do you expect them to recover? Would you feel good by mocking a person's illness? The constant reminder invokes nothing but frustration and anger deep within us. We lie then, we lie to you on your Face. If needed, we will lie to anyone who keeps on reminding. Sometimes, we make them silent, sometimes we humiliate them, we insult them, we show them their place out of our own misery and desperation. If that's not enough, we also do not hesitate to hate the asker for repeatedly reminding us of our learned helplessness. If you truly care about the person behind the smoke, if you truly want to help us, then show some compassion, show some kindness, try to understand our plight. When we dream about quitting, encourage us, tell us that you have faith in our resolve even if you don't mean it, tell us that we can do it. Let us bring this topic on our own if we want to. Let us find our own will, our own reason, our own resolve. What do we, smokers, truly need is your patience ears, nonjudgemental mind and most importantly a bit of compassion in your heart. If even after all these things, we fail sometimes then encourage us, reaffirm your belief in us, instead of ridiculing our ambition. We desperately need someone who could patiently hear to our battles that we keep losing. We do not need lectures about the benefit of quitting - We Already Know That because We Are Already Living That Hellish Life, That Horrible Smell Follows Us Everywhere. If you still do not understand our plight, then just once think about our compulsive self inflicted wounds which run deep within our skin - we have already lost the true sense of taste and smell. Many of us have lost our appetite. Our skin violently crawls when we put that little bastard between our lips. We have lost so much.
We don't need a constant reminder of our addiction. I understand it's quite difficult for someone who does not smoke to understand the plight and struggle of us and that’s perfectly fine. However, if you cannot help then also don’t discourage us. Quitting is hard, the struggle to quit is so difficult that possibly no non-smoker can comprehend. If a smoker tells you his desire to quit, support him. Don't remind them that they had promised the same thing last time as well. Don't mock them, don't mock their wish, don't mock our dream of quitting one day. Don't remind us about our addiction because the one who truly wants to quit - we, ourselves, deeply regret that moment when we picked that first stick. This deep self resentment whenever we give up is so intense that even the best of words cannot express our suffering.
However, there are a few good aspects of smoking as well. It has given something. Now I know what an addiction is. I am almost certain that for every kind of addiction there comes a stage where an addict truly wants to quit. I now understand their plight because I have lived that. It has made me compassionate towards those who are trapped in their own hell. Thanks to this addiction, now I will never make another addiction, I will never again let anyone abuse me, I will never again allow a toxic relation to build up. Never again!
This time, I won't share this suffering to any because nobody can understand anyway. I have to find that compassion within me to forgive myself when I will fail and the compassion to hold myself and say - you can do it, Manu, don’t give up, I trust you. This time, I have found a way that let me ask myself - Why? Meditation is slowly building something deep inside me to face my own created demons. This time, I will not find any alternative. This time, I will find the help that I desperately need. I am sick, I am suffering. I am trapped in my own mind.
