The Struggle To Quit Smoking

Your eyes open and your throat tickles. You break the silence of the early morning with choking sounds. The air seems fresh, even though there’s last night’s cigarette smoke lingering in the air somewhere. You fumble for the packet. It’s where it always is, right next to the bed. Before you sleep you have a cigarette. A full days worth of smoking doesn’t do your lungs any good. You light the first cigarette of the day. As you suck in the grey smoke your chest makes a stifled attempt to fill out. You hear the sound of wheezing coming from your lungs. Your head starts to spin, as does the room. You focus your eyes and now you are fully aware. The nicotine’s making your hands tremble and all you can think about is coffee. A coffee goes great with a fag. You sit at the side of your bed as the white paper burns down to the orange, spotted filter. The end of the cigarette is brown, it changes that colour from white in the minute it takes you to smoke it. There are lines all the way up the fag. These lines are a millimetre apart and they represent the drags you should be taking. This approach doesn’t work. Your lips are like Hoover attachments and each puff takes six lines from the fag. The coffee peps you up as you light up your second fag of the day. It’s cool after the first one. You don’t feel dizzy and you don’t tremble.

There’s a point where you run out of cigarettes. It’s somewhere between twenty past four and ten to five. Your fist slowly clenches around the packet, crushing it into a ball of cardboard. Your eyes are fixated. The mood goes downhill from here. Your mind tells you you’re going to get angry before it happens. People might talk around you but you stay focused on one point. Your mind taunts you ‘need a fag, need a fag, need a fag, need a fag’ and all you can do is sit and listen. It will only be a matter of time now before
‘Fuck you, who are you to say that to me?’ ‘Sorry, I haven’t had a fag in about an hour.’ People relax, like it’s some sort of illness. You’re in an angry mood because you don’t have enough nicotine stimulating your nervous system. People know this as a symptom so they understand. At least the smokers understand.

‘There’s no smoking in this restaurant sir’ the pretty girl says as you leer at her, bullets for eyes. You make a point of stubbing the cigarette out with teeth grinding. You nod and she walks off. Now your foot is tapping. You’re flipping over the same beer mat for the twenty-seventh time. You hum a song but get pissed off because it doesn’t go right.

A bus goes by and you realise it’s your forty-eight. You run and you can feel your heart pumping. One minute later you’re at the bus stop. The bus is pulling away from you. You wheeze and cough, spitting out phlegm. You’re thinking I have got to quit smoking.

Quitting smoking isn’t as easy as it sounds. You go an hour without a cigarette on come the mood swings. Your go a day without a cigarette your hands shake. Go three days you’re walking around confused. Your mind keeps telling you one wont hurt. One does hurt. One wouldn’t hurt if one was left at that but it isn’t. You have one and one turns to two, two turns to four and before you know it you’re back on forty a day. You tell people you’re going to quit smoking and they’re like
‘What again? I’ll believe that when I see it.’ You retaliate with a
‘You’ll see’ and try to look cool, when really in the back of your mind you doubt if you can do it.

You start to realise after a while how much money you spend on cigarettes and how little good they do to your health. It’s frustrating knowing that you truly have the urge to quit but not the will power. It’s like being imprisoned, you don’t want to smoke but your actions will lead you to the shop and you will buy 20. You must really want to quit in order to succeed. What you’re realising now is that there’s a flaw in most quitting attempts. You hear that the easiest thing about giving up cigarettes is starting back up again. So you make a plan, if you have one after a week of quitting you will recognise your mistake and carry on. There’ll be no more thinking you fail just because you’re having one. It’s got to be will power alone. Nicotine patches can help but for how long. You run the thirteen-week course and at the end of it you crave because the patches aren’t there. You ask yourself weather this is your quitting attempt or something to do with the patches. A week goes by. Two weeks go by and you’re not smoking. The play with beer mats, juggle golf balls and use anything else at hand to keep yourself occupied. At the end of the week you walk into the shop and buy yourself something nice. It’s a treat for being so good.

Four months and you feel like a new person. You walk out of your home and breathe in the cool, cold air. The grey smoke comes out of your mouth but this time it isn’t cigarette smoke. It’s cold outside and you can see your breath. Everyone’s saying how well you look. When you look in the mirror you agree with them. The pale-faced person you usually look at is replaced with someone with colour in their cheeks. You go for a run and you can really feel yourself getting fit. Your lungs aren’t what they should be but they can only get better with time. You take a breath in through your nose. Count to four. Breathe out through your mouth. Count to four. People’s faces warm to you. You’re usually getting angry because people are alienating you for smoking. Now you couldn’t care less. You notice dates go better. It’s no longer ‘oh and by the way smoke’ and then watch their face drop. The money comes in handy. On forty a day you’re spending eight pounds a day on nicotine. Multiply eight by seven and that’s fifty-eight pounds you’ve got in your pocket. Exercise seems appealing and your mood as a whole improves. People who smoke are sitting with mouths open telling you that they wish they could quit. They tell you that they don’t know how you did it and that you’ve done really well. You smile, say thanks but don’t brag. You know that you must always maintain this dedication. One cigarette now could mean you back on forty a day. You acknowledge that you’re doing well but you never get too exited. You know that you must always strive to stay away from nicotine.

Confidence And The Martial Arts

Sometimes people say things to you that they probably shouldn’t. People say things to you that hurt you but it all builds up. Sometimes you just snap and take your anger out on people who don’t deserve it. People make fun of you but your passivity makes it impossible to handle situations effectively. You are left being nice to people who don’t respect you. Your confidence is low and because you are so passive your self-esteem isn’t what it should be. You need to do something to boost your confidence. Alcohol nicotine and depression wear on each other. Something positive has to happen in order to break free from this negative chain.

You start martial arts on the grounds that it will improve your quality of life. At first the physical effort you exert makes it hard to stand after the session. Your face goes red and your breathing becomes tight like you’re running out of oxygen. You smoke 20 fags a day and it’s showing. There are people smiling as you suffer. How can these people be smiling doing such a hard workout?

You’re sticking to it and it’s crazy how a thing such as martial arts can change your life. You train two nights a week so that’s two days a week you can’t have any alcohol. You start to feel endorphins in your body that make you feel good. You start to feel that there’s something good in your life. Everything else in your life becomes easier to handle. You’re not a basket case anymore. You walk into a pub and you’re not that timid guy who is shy and smiles half-heartedly. If anyone tries to pick on you or if any trouble kicks off you’ll be able to handle it. If a fight starts you can defend yourself even if it’s just enough o get away and run. And what will it be like in two years or five years to come? You are going to get fitter and more confident. As these things twist in your mind you feel a sense of calm. Your worries are at ease because of your newfound physical confidence. You look into girls' faces and they are smiling. Being fit improves your net worth with women and it’s showing. Suddenly people who usually disrespect you are giving you winks and shaking your hand. It’s like there’s this stigma around martial arts and people take up on it. In your heart you feel like you’d loose a fight but at least you’ll have a clue how to conduct yourself. It’s a comforting thing knowing you can defend yourself even at a crude level. Confidence starts a cycle. You’re confident in public so your self-esteem improves. As you gain self-esteem you have to confidence to be who you want to be. All things like ambition and your sense of adventure are in your life again. It’s like you’re changing through an outlet. You channel all your aggression and negative energies into your training. If there’s something on your mind you take it to the gym.

At some stage you realise that your life is different. Your whole outlook is changing and you have to keep up with it. You go from confident to arrogant all to easy. You realise that you have to focus on respect more than the average person. You start to feel like you can defend yourself well so you tend not to care if anyone starts a fight with you. You have to focus on being respectful at all times. You can’t let yourself get angry and swear at people. That’s not what you’re about. Sometimes you feel things are heated. Maybe you’re having a disagreement with someone and you can feel the fire in your heart. You’re strong and skilled with martial arts. You’ve got to say to yourself slow down, do I really want to be the type of person who reacts like this? Is it right for a martial artist to conduct his behaviour in this way? By realising that you can be arrogant you can learn to control it. So you are more aware now. If someone’s trying to stare you out you don’t go for the challenge. If someone’s in your face you’ve got to smile and handle the situation in the best way possible. Sometimes there are things that anger you but you have to take yourself to another place and think things through. You start to see patterns in the way people behave and the way you react to stress. By realising how you’re acting inappropriately you can be a better person by modifying your attitude. Not only do you not fear confrontation you are comforted in the fact that you are building skills in life to deal with stress. It’s great when you can keep your head while everyone around you loses their cool. You can breathe in deeply. Know what you’re doing. Once you’re aware of how to deal with certain things you can use that skill in everyday life. You keep your cool and smile. You’re a friendly person and people seem to take to you. You’re experiencing peace in yourself. When you can deal with conflict inside it’s a whole lot easier handling conflict within you. You smile as you walk through a busy street. You wonder what might happen. You know that you can handle whatever life throws at you. Who would of thought that learning martial arts could be so profoundly beneficial in your life?

3rd Blue Sash.

You walk through the door, your martial arts grading.
Thoughts and fears go by, they start fading.
You've got a lot to learn, so You're wading.
Shaolin Kung fu China’s where it’s made in.
you can’t believe your luck.
And yeah You're like ‘fuck’
Get up on the stage
You turn the second page.
That morning you'll be cramming your forms in
Got a bunch a doubts but you know that you can win.
Got a lot a people who believe in you somehow
Trying to show bravery taking up that vow
You freeze up till you can’t move any more
You ask Sifu 'can I start again' and he’s like ‘sure’
You manage to pull it off, complete
Hear the sound of people clapping, now that’s sweet.
In the next test of brains and brawn you fight
Technically powerful, trying to step light
In the first five seconds, the fight stalls
You're leaning over from a kick to the balls
They ask You ‘Man, are you alright?’
You know there’s no stopping. You have to fight
Trying your best to keep your body tight
And You're Fighting back with all your might
David’s apologies ‘Sorry to be rough’
But You're saying ‘thank you my guard it wasn’t good enough’
‘And by showing me that it was a lesson’
‘Now I can rewrite my wrongs, no guessing’
Now this is where the whole session peaks
Running through all of your self defence techniques
You know these moves like the back of your hand
You even help your partner cause he doesn’t understand
You sit around the room legs crossed worries fading
Here giving it all of your best and now You're grading
You make mistakes but pass with over eight
That’s the number out of ten and that’s great
Walking out the room with a smile on your face
‘Cause there’s no better feeling than this or better taste
The thing about pushing yourself in this way
Endorphins in your body leaves you feeling good all day
You're feeling kinda proud of yourself; You're in your prime
Now you start working on forms for next time.

Mental Dependency.

The Good
When you’re smoking weed everything’s interesting. Your sense of colour and sound are high. It’s like you’re thinking on another level. You have smoker mates. One night Bill buys a weed the next Chris does then it’s your turn. You go three ways on an eighth or a quarter. It’s two-drag pass or saving twos and threes. You sit and play computer games for hours. After a while you get the munchies so you eat. You don't really go for a big meal or anything. It's more likely that you grab some crisps or a chocolate muffin. There’s a connection that goes with smoking weed. Your mates and you can be sat there and someone looks at something. It might be a pillow or something else. Maybe someone coughs. It’s a joke that everyone’s in on. Everyone laughs at the same thing. Do you ever know the real joke behind the laughter?

The Bad
You lose weight because when you’re high you’re not hungry. When the high wears off all you do is snack. Exercise is out of the question. Finding the remote is the equivalent a mile run. If you have to get up and do something wile you're stoned you hate it. Everything is a task. You want to sit, no one moves for hours. Some time’s you go on a whitey. If you dont smoke weed let me explain, a whitey is a lot like being sick after a night out on beer. You don’t stumble or shout lary remarks at people however. Your face goes white and you can’t bring yourself to say a word. Your face is warm, the type of warmth you get when your mouth fills with saliva and being sick seems like a tidal wave. If only you can surf over it. You’re not strong enough. If only you can eat something. You might be able to avoid being sick. Everyone around you can tell what you’re going through but it’s funny to them. It’s like feeling sympathy for a skateboarder who falls. You know the risks. Look at you now. When you're sick it’s usually stomach wrenching. Bile comes into your mouth and your freezing cold palms sweat profusely. You’re in your own world. It’s a lonely world. Well one thing’s for sure, at least it’ll be over soon. You find yourself walking uneasily over a sunny hill and the horizon is yellow with the bright sunshine. It’s early afternoon and you’re bunking off school. All you want to do is sleep. Is it ever a surprise when you wake up at eleven at night like it’s a fresh new day. Do you realise you'll be up another night? Well at least there’s that spliff you've got in your pocket. You can watch late night TV. You know all the channels. By the time the sun comes up you're tired and that's the time to sleep.

The Ugly
You’re paranoid. There’s drug in your pocket. What if the police stop you right now? Oh my god people on this bus are staring at me. Your eyes flicker round the bus. Everyone’s talking about you. Everyone must be able to tell you’re stoned. They’re thinking yeah look at that druggy, eyes puffy red, licking his lips, so pale and thin. Your mouth is dry as it always is with cannabis smoke lingering in your lungs. You're doing lung bongs, bottle bongs, blowbacks and bucket bongs. After one bucket-bong you're in a different world. You sit in the corner of the room, away from everyone else. You wont speak to anyone. Everyone is your enemy. You trust no one. When the buzz wears off things will get back to normal. Normal starts to seem like hell so you smoke just to maintain the high. You go a day, maybe two days without food, that’s not counting the space raiders and that can of coke. There’s an answer to the paranoia. You smoke alone, surely you cant get paranoid if no-ones around. You lock yourself away to the point where people are worried. You’re distant and only the weed is your friend. You peer round your room. Empty. The stereo, your records and the TV are all in the porn shop. You sell things to buy weed. Now you’re sitting on a paint stained mattress with no carpets. Your clothes are laid around the floor. The more you smoke the more you disconnect from life. No one calls for you anymore. Your world becomes your life and now your life is one long paranoid episode. Sure you’re not paranoid about the people around you but now you don’t want to leave the house because people are always staring. The knife in your pocket is your way of showing inner confidence. No job, no friends. There’s the weed to smoke though isn’t there?