Okay, the weirdest thing happened to me at the beginning of the long holiday weekend: I experienced "phantom smoking". I was sitting at the computer Friday evening when I suddenly smelled a cigarette. It was as if someone was puffing away in the hall. It was so shockingly vivid that I was compelled to get up and look around for a smoking intruder. Having found no nicotine-addicted burglar, I began to imagine that it was a burning clothes dryer, sparking electrical outlet, flaming stove or oven, or a fire in the yard.
Nothing.
It was freaky, for sure, but the worst and cruelest part was that every time I inhaled the "smell", it also "felt" as if I were puffing a menthol cigarette. It...was...that...vivid. It, literally, made me choke, out loud. I even reached up and touched my throat.
Welcome to No Man's Land, home of the Phantom Smoke Mirage!
It affected me, of course. The sensation was an instantaneous blindside, not the emotional fabrication from an incessant fixation, or urge, or trigger. I was caught by surprise, and the whole process of the episode (smelling it, hunting for trespassers, inspecting the house for fire) was troubling and confusing and weird for about 10 minutes. And, after it was over, I felt much the same way many "smokemare" dreamers did: horrified that I had somehow "smoked"; angry that the addiction's memories still attempt to toy with me; sad that I did this to my poor brain and mind.
But happy that the lesson was learned, and my quit was strengthened by the test.
Saturday (in true Storm fashion), I went hiking through a forest of oak and hickory in order to reach a massive dome of black granite called 40 Acre Rock. Hundreds and hundreds of metric tons of stone under my feet, phantoms vanquished by fresh air, and freedom on the breeze.
Because life (and recovery) does not stop, especially for ghosts.
STORM: 89
