That's it, after yesterday's ropey day (recorded by Heterocon) and an even worse night, the will has finally broken. At 14.00 hours, Sunday 12 June, went to buy my first pack of cigarettes (and lighter) in more than seven months. Could no longer cope with the dis-ease of the body, or the tension and anger of the spirit. One certain factor is that the new medication doesn't suit me or, if it does, I'm struggling to give it time to settle in. Patience is a virtue that seems to drift, nay it runs ... scarpers ... away from me!
The first cigarette, on the way back from the local co-op tasted , to be honest, indifferent but none the less welcome. I hate the thought of money going up in smoke; I resent supporting these destructive corporations who manufacture and merchandise these defiling tobacco sticks and yet, all ethical considerations are tossed to one side in the hope of experiencing that "rush" as the nicotine enters the blood-stream.
For the last couple of months my throat and mouth have managed to taste like a nicotine and alcohol hangover, each morning, even though the former is in absentia and the latter very moderately represented.
I have no excuse, apart from weakness. For the moment life sucks but, who knows ... I do still recognize my good fortune in terms of family and friends.
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
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