My chest is in knots, but I didn't smoke. I didn't even seriously consider smoking. Just a passing thought following an argument with my son. Every conversation is a challenge, as he has relapsed on opiates, and his mental health is disintegrating. Every conversation fills me with with hope, love, sadness, loss, anger, exasperation. And fear that he won't be able to find it within himself to make healthy choices.
Back to smoking. Cigarettes are a drug too. Maybe not as life-destroying (yet) as opiates. But still. An addiction. My addiction.
I'm amazed that I was able to access peace and strength tonight, rather than succumbing to thoughts of smoking to remove this pain. Took my dogs on a super speed walk, with their little legs furiously trotting to keep pace. And I can go to bed with more trust in myself and gratitude that I found a bit of courage to face this pain without a cigarette.
Anya
day 9
