Smoking Ban

One year, 9 months and 11 days. That's how long it had been since I'd smoked a cigarette when, on last Sunday evening, I broke my abstinence. An old friend (and one of the only smokers I know these days) was in town just for that night. I had tossed back several beers, and while we strolled the scenic sidewalks of crepuscular Capitol Hill, I asked him to toss me a butt from his pack. It was a Marlboro Light I believe.

I have two reactions to this surprising turn of events. First, I don't have any intention to start smoking again. I didn't really enjoy it much. Second, I do not regret my decision to have a cigarette with an old friend. I didn't do it because I was trashed. I did it because I was sick of feeling like an addict.

I was tired of counting the months and days since I quit. I was tired of feeling them mount up like straws on a camel's back. I was tired of conceiving of myself as an addict in recovery. And I think many people have trouble with this. We don't really like to think of ourselves as damaged, vulnerable or flawed. Just ask anyone on antidepressants. People can't wait to get off those things once they feel stabilized. Somehow, in my mind at least, smoking a single cigarette transformed me from a fragile person attempting to stay in "recovery" to a healthy, strong-willed person capable of having a cigarette without giving the tobacco any power over me. Though it may seem counterintuitive, not smoking actually made me feel more like a tobacco addict than smoking that cigarette did.

Is this delusional? Well, probably. And perhaps someday I will regret my actions of last Sunday. But for now I'm more curious about this phenomenon I experienced. Do people often suffer this kind of "weighted-downed-ness" when they deal with old demons? And do they sometimes feel empowered by giving up the absolutism that goes hand-in-hand with addiction treatment (or other treatments for that matter?)