Smoker's Anonymous

You remember the other week I told you about Uko's party for Lisa, and how I was taking drags from a cigarette of this girl I liked? Well the weird thing about that night was that it should have been the most unlikely night of the whole year that I'd smoke, as it was the anniversary of my granddad dying of throat cancer from a lifetime of smoking. After seeing what smoking had reduced him to: skin and bones, unable to eat solids, unable to go to to toilet, unable to speak, walk or even stay awake for any length of time. And worse, leaving my Nan alone.

Then there's my "uncle", one of those not-really-your-uncle-uncles that always seem to be closer to you than your biological family anyway. He got cancer from passive smoking, and even though he's survived it, it cost him a good few of his internal organs, meaning he'll be carrying a bag full of wee around with him for the rest of his life.

It wasn't like I was trying to impress this girl (a nurse, who should know better and probably sees the stuff I've mentioned all the time) or anything, but all it took was a few drinks and a girl and a I was giving in to something I should hate bitterly on the night I should hate it the most.

The time a cigarette had last touched my lips was also in a club, taking a drag from one that a girl I had a soft spot for was smoking, fooling myself it might make us closer no doubt.

Before that it was when I was on my back from Leeds after seeing Sara for the last time. I secretly bought a packet of 10 B&H while waiting for her (as I was ashamed to let her see my get them, because she had started smoking again - perhaps in part to spite me, despite knowing that I'd just found out my granddad was dying). I don't think I actually managed to smoke a whole one (I can't smoke properly!) and it didn't really have the desired effect (whatever that was). I still have the pack at home, along with the lighter I bought that day too.

I'm telling you this because last night, I'm lying on my "bed" listening to some heavy rock from Funeral for a Friend, and I suddenly had the desire to be smoking. I think it's more the image of smoking that attracts me, as I've never had a physical addiction (not inhaled enough nicotine for that!) to it. Then I thought about how anti-smoking I really am...

I remember when I was little my cousin, sister and I were the founding (only) members of "fag buster". No, it wasn't and anti-gay movement, it was a doomed attempt at getting my nan and granddad to quit smoking. My sister even made badges, I've still got mine somewhere at home now. We were a somewhat extremist organisation, as my sister and cousin went so far as to hide my nan and grandad's cigarettes, so after we went home my mom would get a call from my nan asking where her fags were!

Ever since Ive always annoyed my smoker-friends by trying to get them to give up.

But my point is this: If I can't stop myself taking drags, imagine what it must be like to have a real addiction?

xx