lee_the_messed_up_punk

my #ucked up life
2007-11-25 20:16:43 (UTC)

keep smoking

10:41 Sunday morning

My hands aren't shaking as much as usual and I don't
hear anything but damn I wish I had a pack of smokes. I
have tobacco sitting right next to me that I extracted from
butts, something you would only understand or do if you are
a broke chain smoker yourself. Like all addictions, once
your satisfied for that moment, life seems easier, your
thoughts aren't a blur, going through nicotine withdrawal.
Like a turntable playing an old dusty record that crackles
until it's cleaned, the nicotine cleans the record until it
get's dusty again, when you'll begin to want more. I'm
drinking another addictive substance I gave up years ago
only because it's all I have to drink either then powdered
juice and hot chocolate. After this glass of Coke I'm
going for something without caffeine because I can already
feel my body reacting to it. During this time of year, the
pre-winter season, I enjoy because the body doesn't need as
much water, I love the cool breeze and rarely zipper up my
jacket. It's strange to others who try to stay indoors
during this time of year, I love the smell of winter and
the way it feels either then the sweat of summer.

If I had a choice it would be a non caffeine beverage
like 7up or Root beer because I used to go through two to
three 2L's a day of Coke, probably why I had such a messed
up sleeping pattern. When you work the night shift
anywhere it's hard to avoid needing something to keep you
awake or wake you up and ever since I got fired from enough
jobs, when you don't work like I haven't since I got jumped
outside the front doors of my building, I've finally begun
to get better and haven't suffered from massive psychosis
like I was for a good length of time. I've been to the
hospital, not counting visiting my mother, more this year
then in my entire life. The only positive fact from having
a huge pill container full of hospital wristbands, visits
with my doctor and that I've tried to go back to work a
number of times is that it shows the government that I'm
trying to get better as much as possible. It's not that I
was afraid of getting jumped again, I probably will, it was
because of the way my mind and body reacted both mentally
and physically.

It felt like it was never going to end and was one of
the worst battles I've had in my life but have proven once
again to myself that manic depression is way different from
being depressed, where it never really goes away, only goes
up and down. Right when I felt great and was ready to
phone my brother and tell him I was ready to work I fell
back down needing more rest then usual, sleeping right
through a day not only because I was weak and tired but not
hearing things or smelling that odd smell, laying in the
silence of last night was like a brain massage. Usually I
have to keep a light on, afraid of delusions that aren't
common but usually happen when I'm laying in pure
darkness. The only delusions I had was hearing scissors
that might sound crazy but it's strangely common, one that
my mother has many nights. The only difference and way I
get better is that I know it's just a part of my illness
when my mother really believes that someone comes inside
her apartment and cuts her hair, calling them either
witches, her old doctor or invisible people. The fact that
her hair isn't cut is not enough to convince her that it's
a delusion and talks to me often about how someone came in
her apartment and cut her hair.

If I get lazy and smoke tobacco out of a pipe it will
drive my nicotine cringe 100% after all the tobacco is
gone, I'll be smoking anything by then, the carpet,
couches, socks, whatever burns leaving by scrapes of metal.

I can easily make sense of why I started smoking, in
the first place it has many good affects either than all
the bad ones they constantly bring up, like cancer,
strokes, lung problems but here's the catch. All of those
things mean shit all compared to the fact that it's
extremely addicting and since there creation the price has
been going up, up, up and away...
I started smoking because they were easily axis able,
since my father rolled his own smokes at the time when I
started, he never realized when a few went missing. In my
opinion if they really wanted everyone to quit they
wouldn't be charging more for the medicine then it costs to
smoke. Rather then put the price of medicine down they
keep putting the price of smokes up as if that makes any
sense except that they make money both ways, more if your
trying to quit. If the medicine was cheaper I'd try but
it's trading one addiction for another. You can't write my
words in stone like they make sense because smoking is
stupid.
If you start get ready to blow a shitload of money on
basically nothing. Unlike a lot of people who quit, I like
the way it smells, the way it kills your sense of smell
because most of the stuff you smell when you don't smoke
smells gross anyways. You don't get hungry all the time,
some look at you as polluting the air there breathing and
on the other hand there's some weird movement of people
that has never been described, something I'd call, 'the
people who don't necessarily smoke all the time or don't at
all but understand and accept the addiction.' If I had the
money I'd definitely buy Pab and Mary a pack of smokes but
I have zero dollars. Even after I tell Pab I have no
smokes or money, he somehow convinces himself that I have
more money then him and am hiding it.
One thing that him and my father have in common is
that they both live in there thoughts most of the time
rather then in facts. I try to live in facts, probably why
I write and read as much non-fiction as possible because I
want to understand life, especially about my illness that
Pab also suffers with but doesn't know how to read so it
must be hard for him to understand a lot of things. He's
learning to read with his daughter and over the last year
his reading might be choppy but at least he's trying, I
can't imagine reading the way they do, word for word either
then absorbing paragraphs like looking at a painting.

Tomorrow my mother finally gets her pills and I get
mine on the 6th that seems so far away. I made the huge
mistake again of taking more of my meds then prescribed and
have to suffer a little over a week without them. I can
feel the withdrawal and am trying to ignore it as much as
possible but I've been in worse shape many times before so
I can't complain. The dreams I had basically sleeping all
through Saturday were all lucid, some nightmares, some
daymares, some about music, others about good things like
starting a family. I remember when life was simpler as a
child, all I really wanted out of life was to start a
family but meeting and maintaining a relationship with
anyone seems impossible these days. All I can do is keep
trying.

lee




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