Episode 125: Genocyde Unleashed
Many things have transpired recently.
The last weekend I was off, I was as sick as hell. I was barely breathing with an erratic pulse rate and feeling like I'd been eaten by a bear and pooped off a cliff. Every cigarette I lit was agony. The uber-flu had left me weak and infected...again. I did a lot of thinking during that weekend. At some points, I'd start wondering if I was even going to make it through my next sleep period. As you can imagine, I resisted sleep for fear of not waking. Not that I'm afraid of dying but the last thing in the world that I wanted was dying with the knowledge that I had done it to myself in larger part than not.
During my sickness, I remember feeling great when I worked out. I remember how everyone else was so happy with me when I'd quit smoking and just how miserable I'd been. At points, I'd be curled up on the bathroom floor, my jaw clenched, sweating, cursing God, the farmers and the scientists who made that evil weed so addictive. I was staring down the barrel of it all. I was facing the horrible truth about cigarettes yet again...I was STILL an addict. I was addicted to the one legal drug that kills hundreds of thousands per year. I was addicted to the one drug that is overlooked in the pantheon. I was addicted, seemingly hopelessly so, to a drug that is underrated in terms of lethality. It's drug addiction and it transcends all things. Even the workouts that I had enjoyed so much were becoming more taxing because of them.
I ripped Allen Carr's Audiobook The Easy Way To Stop Smoking to iTunes and put it on my iPhone, this time, in a concerted effort to get through it. I started noticing that the things were foul-tasting. I'd passively smoked and never noticed it. I thought I was enjoying them but I was only kidding myself. I was sick for the fourth time in the past year and I was not enjoying that in the least.
Through the following week, I smoked as I listened to the book in every spare moment that I could find an excuse to have. By the time the weekend at work had ended, I was like a rabid dog, waiting to break the leash and get on with my plans.
See, if it's one thing I hate, it's having to answer to someone for any reason unless it logically makes sense to me. For some reason, I didn't seem to have a problem being a total slave to some plant. I was letting it destroy me and I was paying through the nose for that very "privilege" and I use that term loosely.
Monday morning, I'd smoked my "final" cigarette. I was ready, I was sure of it. The day came and went. I went out to meet with a friend. I was having a great time. I was blessedly unaware of the withdrawal pangs that would hit me on occasion. They were so subtle, that I went through my day and night, feeling increasingly better. Unfortunately, a series of frustrations later that night had nearly driven me back but I stopped myself. While taking that friend back home, I found myself nodding off at the wheel. Okay, flu I can handle. Car accident as I'm on the verge of moving, no.
On the way back home, I'd stopped at a convenience store with the intention of only purchasing a soda as a means of staying awake. Instead, in my moment of weakness, I caved. Normally, I'd beat myself senseless for such a failure but this time, I made up my mind, no more self-pity parties and no more mental masochism. I smoked each one conciously, asking myself each time, "How's it taste, Mothafucka?" The answer that I offered, "Absolutely horrid."
My plan was revised, I would finish this pack and do away with them. Surprisingly, the pack lasted me through until noon on Wednesday. At Noon on Wednesday, February 27, 2009, I took myself off of that leash. I broke away from the trap and am pleased to report that I am a happy non-smoker. I don't use patches or gums. I don't use any replacements. I'm just done. It was much easier than I thought. I'm still suffering withdrawl but the pangs are so subtle that they can be withstood and they're not painful.
I breathe much better now, I don't wake up hacking and sputtering and I don't feel the "need" for a cigarette any more. Normally, I'd have one upon waking up and right before bed but now, that's a thing of the past.
Now, I'm going to be getting back into my workout. My self-defense studies are becoming more advanced, brutally so and I'll need all the oxygen that I can get.
"As their bodies mounted, his wrath proceeded by that of the sound of thunder, he razed their numbers as they counted for nothing. The skies were rent asunder and the earth lie shaken at the sound of the name as it was uttered. The winds raged and carried it to the nations so that it may fall on all ears. Verily, the earth did cry, 'Genocyde be thy name.'"
-Book of Armaments 30:97
The last weekend I was off, I was as sick as hell. I was barely breathing with an erratic pulse rate and feeling like I'd been eaten by a bear and pooped off a cliff. Every cigarette I lit was agony. The uber-flu had left me weak and infected...again. I did a lot of thinking during that weekend. At some points, I'd start wondering if I was even going to make it through my next sleep period. As you can imagine, I resisted sleep for fear of not waking. Not that I'm afraid of dying but the last thing in the world that I wanted was dying with the knowledge that I had done it to myself in larger part than not.
During my sickness, I remember feeling great when I worked out. I remember how everyone else was so happy with me when I'd quit smoking and just how miserable I'd been. At points, I'd be curled up on the bathroom floor, my jaw clenched, sweating, cursing God, the farmers and the scientists who made that evil weed so addictive. I was staring down the barrel of it all. I was facing the horrible truth about cigarettes yet again...I was STILL an addict. I was addicted to the one legal drug that kills hundreds of thousands per year. I was addicted to the one drug that is overlooked in the pantheon. I was addicted, seemingly hopelessly so, to a drug that is underrated in terms of lethality. It's drug addiction and it transcends all things. Even the workouts that I had enjoyed so much were becoming more taxing because of them.
I ripped Allen Carr's Audiobook The Easy Way To Stop Smoking to iTunes and put it on my iPhone, this time, in a concerted effort to get through it. I started noticing that the things were foul-tasting. I'd passively smoked and never noticed it. I thought I was enjoying them but I was only kidding myself. I was sick for the fourth time in the past year and I was not enjoying that in the least.
Through the following week, I smoked as I listened to the book in every spare moment that I could find an excuse to have. By the time the weekend at work had ended, I was like a rabid dog, waiting to break the leash and get on with my plans.
See, if it's one thing I hate, it's having to answer to someone for any reason unless it logically makes sense to me. For some reason, I didn't seem to have a problem being a total slave to some plant. I was letting it destroy me and I was paying through the nose for that very "privilege" and I use that term loosely.
Monday morning, I'd smoked my "final" cigarette. I was ready, I was sure of it. The day came and went. I went out to meet with a friend. I was having a great time. I was blessedly unaware of the withdrawal pangs that would hit me on occasion. They were so subtle, that I went through my day and night, feeling increasingly better. Unfortunately, a series of frustrations later that night had nearly driven me back but I stopped myself. While taking that friend back home, I found myself nodding off at the wheel. Okay, flu I can handle. Car accident as I'm on the verge of moving, no.
On the way back home, I'd stopped at a convenience store with the intention of only purchasing a soda as a means of staying awake. Instead, in my moment of weakness, I caved. Normally, I'd beat myself senseless for such a failure but this time, I made up my mind, no more self-pity parties and no more mental masochism. I smoked each one conciously, asking myself each time, "How's it taste, Mothafucka?" The answer that I offered, "Absolutely horrid."
My plan was revised, I would finish this pack and do away with them. Surprisingly, the pack lasted me through until noon on Wednesday. At Noon on Wednesday, February 27, 2009, I took myself off of that leash. I broke away from the trap and am pleased to report that I am a happy non-smoker. I don't use patches or gums. I don't use any replacements. I'm just done. It was much easier than I thought. I'm still suffering withdrawl but the pangs are so subtle that they can be withstood and they're not painful.
I breathe much better now, I don't wake up hacking and sputtering and I don't feel the "need" for a cigarette any more. Normally, I'd have one upon waking up and right before bed but now, that's a thing of the past.
Now, I'm going to be getting back into my workout. My self-defense studies are becoming more advanced, brutally so and I'll need all the oxygen that I can get.
"As their bodies mounted, his wrath proceeded by that of the sound of thunder, he razed their numbers as they counted for nothing. The skies were rent asunder and the earth lie shaken at the sound of the name as it was uttered. The winds raged and carried it to the nations so that it may fall on all ears. Verily, the earth did cry, 'Genocyde be thy name.'"
-Book of Armaments 30:97
posted by Lord Genocyde at 5:34 PM
1 Comments:
Un-freakin-believable!!
Good for you!!! Now when you walk into a room people don't cringe from the smell of stale smoke.You make it sound hard at first,but then once you got used to the idea,it worked itself out.
I wish I could rid myself of the trash I'm drawn to,like my X,the way you got rid of smoking...cuz for FK's sake,I'm still limping where the asshole stabbed me in the leg.I could have used some of your martial arts techniques that night.That's for sure!
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