Everyday Struggles

The third blog challenge topic is...

Something With Which I Struggle...

Struggle.  What a funny sounding word, yet its meaning is anything but.  Struggles are equal opportunity providers.  They don't care if you are rich or poor.  Intelligent or ignorant.  Black, white, male, or female.  Just like death and taxes, struggling is a part of everyone's lives...inescapable.  The degree to which we struggle is the only variable.

I've had my fair share, sometimes I think I've been given double portions.  Making ends meet financially,  self-confidence issues, achieving academically, relationships, and parenting are all on the high end of the challenge spectrum.  There are small-scale ones too.  Yard upkeep, eating my vegetables, getting to bed at a decent time,  & remembering to charge my phone.  The day-to-day stuff many times gets lost in the hustle and bustle, so much so that I sometimes forget that they are in fact struggles.

Trying to pick just one and then expand is difficult.  I decided to talk about one particular struggle that I hate more than anything.  A struggle I've dealt with since I was 18 years old.  Admitting is the first step right?  That is what people say anyway...so ladies and gentlemen:

My name is Kelly & I smoke cigarettes.

I've struggled with my nicotine habit my entire adult life and I fucking hate it.

 I was the only one in my small group of friends who didn't smoke.  I just didn't want to.  My mom smokes.  Both of my grandmothers smoked.  It is gross & smelly & just gross.  I started because I wanted to be Cool Girl.  You know what I'm talking about.  I started a friendship with a girl who was outside my core circle of friends and I was desperate for her to like me.  I thought if I smoked, like her, I would be better liked...more relate able.  It was dumb and naive.  My relationship with cigarettes has lasted a lot longer than that particular friendship ever did.  I've tried to quit multiple times.  I did in fact quit for well over a year when I was pregnant.  I've tried suckers, hard candy, the cold turkey approach, medication...one particular pill made me homicidal and want to murder my then husband.  None of it did the trick.

I don't think its the addiction to nicotine, instead I feel its the addiction to the self-soothing smoking provides.  Smoking calms my anxiety.  When I'm sad, mad, or any combination, I find that removing myself and smoking helps me settle down and "get my head right," so to speak.  Smoking is a balm, a way for me to cope with situations where I'm emotionally agitated or distraught.  The daily ritual part, first thing in morning-last thing before bed, is easy to break.  I know this because I've done it.  The 8 days I was in California I didn't smoke once...didn't even crave one.  It was a true shock and I was amazed.  I know it had to do with my state of mind/emotional well-being.  I was somewhere stress-free, surrounded by people I love and care about.  I was happy and having fun.  No drama whatsoever.  

My smoking addiction isn't dependence on nicotine, its rooted in my lack of coping skills.  If I work on developing ways to deal with my emotions, I'm sure I will kick the habit for good.  Its going to take work, and I might even need outside help, but with the proper tools I know smoking will be a thing of the past.

Best Anti-Smoking Ad Ever