GUS (Gave Up Smoking) is a community support diary for Kossacks in the midst of quitting smoking. Any supportive comments, suggestions or positive distractions are appreciated. If you are quitting or even thinking of quitting, please -- join us!
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You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair. - Chinese Proverb
When angry, count four; when very angry, swear. - Mark Twain
This is a story about control, my control
Control of what I say, control of what I do
And this time I'm gonna do it my way
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do
Are we ready? I am. 'Cause its all about control
And I've got lots of it. - Janet Jackson
Interesting thing, control.
It's a quality we may admire, or aspire to. Many of us grew up in households where self-control was praised or rewarded, where the non-confrontational approach was prized or encouraged, and where the ability to handle anything that was thrown at you without losing your cool was considered an achievement.
Others grew up surrounded by chaos and uncertainty (financial, emotional or otherwise), but found that if they could control their own little piece of their environment, things would somehow, miraculously, hold together. For these people, control became about safety and security.
Some of us really learned our lesson well...so well, in fact, that we parlayed it into a stressful career where we're known as the unflappable, take-charge type who can get the job done no matter how tight the deadlines or how much pressure is on. Or we became the family "fixer": the mediator, the people-pleaser, the caretaker, the dependable one who smooths ruffled feathers; we're the someone who will always step in to do the unpleasant or difficult things nobody else wants to do.
This sort of thing has a price.
There are lots of coping strategies out there for people under pressure. Unfortunately for many of the people reading this, the coping strategy of choice is smoking. For all its faults (and they are legion), there is a stress-relief component to nicotine addiction. At the very least, lighting up relieves the ever-present, low-level craving for nicotine, an effect which cleverly masquerades as reducing the stressfulness of whatever is happening around you. Your brain begins to equate stress relief with the snick of a lighter or scrape of a match, that first deep drag, the long, comforting exhale. "Ahhh..." it thinks, "...now we can start to handle things." We begin to think that we can't cope with stress unless we have our trusty smokes close at hand. Unfortunately, that part's psychological, not physical, and often remains long after the actual nicotine has left your system.
Sucks to be us, sometimes.
Oh, how I relied on my nicotine binky. Especially when stress, like the Vladimir Putin of Sarah Palin's imagination, reared its head. Which was, truth be told, pretty much all the time. Life is inherently stressful for a lot of us; it sure was - and sometimes still is - for me.
Y'know what else smoke is good for? It provides excellent cover. It's very tempting to hide behind that curtain of smoke. It's a lot more subtle than smashing things, or slamming doors, or bursting into tears, or (horror of horrors) actually confronting the issue or person that's pissing you off or stressing you out.
What are we so afraid of? Is it fear of being disliked, or disappointing someone (even ourselves)? Do we fall back on our nicotine crutch because the burden of going it alone is, without that security blanket to hold onto or that chemical rush we rely on, just too scary? Is the path of least resistance just easier (despite the fact that the path may be killing us)?
And why is it so important for us to be in control of ourselves and our feelings? I mean, yes, we're adults, and expected to exhibit a modicum of self-control in our day-to-day interactions, but I think this kind of control, the kind of control we crave, goes beyond that. When I was a smoker, I used to have a sort of running semi-joke about the mood-altering properties of my smokes - "If you think I'm bitchy now, just imagine how scary I'd be without the nicotine to take the edge off!" Yeah, I know, har har har, hee-frickin'-larious. And also, kind of sad.
I guess I felt like I couldn't really be myself without my smokes, but the truth is, they kept me from confronting my real feelings.
What a lot of us did, or do, amounts to repression of healthy emotional expression, to sublimation. We take the anger, frustration, pain, all that scary emotional stuff, and we channel it. We roll it up in a little paper tube full of chemicals and slow death and we smoke it right down to the butt, and then we feel bad about it afterward.
What does it say about us that channeling our frustration, anger, and fear into something so self-harming is seen as an acceptable thing? Acceptable to ourselves, at least. Do we love ourselves enough to save ourselves? I have to hope we do. I think we do, or we would not be here reading this.
Y'know what else? Sometimes, sublimation is overrated. Sometimes venting is necessary. Sometimes, it's not just the only thing you can do, it's the healthy thing to do.
It may feel uncomfortable or awkward to you. The loss of control, however momentary, may even be downright scary. But you can take heart in at least one fact: the next time you lose your shit, odds are pretty good that the episode won't be captured on tape and turned into a funny (and very NSFW) dance remix video posted on YouTube.
I bet Bill O. wishes he could say the same.
(Images in this diary courtesy of the talented and deeply amusing Anne Taintor.)
Roll call! Please post a comment in the Butt Can if you would like to join, or if your name is here in error:
1BQ
3rdGenFeminist
Abra Crabcakeya
amk for obama
Anne933
ArthurWolf
bgblcklab1
BirderWitch
blue husky
Blue Intrigue
bluestatedem84
breedlovinit
bsmechanic
Chocolate Chris
coppercelt
dangoch
duckhunter
Fineena
flumptytail
FrugalGranny
gchaucer2
Im a frayed knot
Indexer
interceptor7
itsbenj
jvolvo's Mom
khloemi
ladypockt
langerdang
LarsThorwald
lmdonovan
luvsathoroughbred
maggiemay
magicsister
Mikeguyver
MinervainNH
nannyboz
ncsuLAN
Nick Zouroudis
Ordvefa
Pennsylvanian
rosebuddear
SallyCat
seenaymah
smartcookienyc
spmozart
Turn VABlue
uc booker
Vacationland
Wood Dragon
Okay, I see the diary slate is looking a little empty...anyone want to give it a whirl? It's entirely less painful and scary than you think it might be. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Anyone (on or off the buddy list) is welcome to write a diary for GUS! If you are interested, please leave a comment in the Butt Can (after the Tip Jar).
Thu AM: seenaymah
Thu PM: rexymeteorite
Fri AM: itsbenj
Fri PM: SallyCat
Sat AM: sberel
Sat PM: [they're going fast! only two spots left!!!]
Sun AM: [I don't recall "Thou Shalt Not Blog" being one of the Ten Commandments...]
Sun PM: breedlovinit