cob321

The un-continuum of Time

Blog Post created by cob321 on Mar 25, 2019

Coming up out of sleep again - Monday morning, the alarm goes off, tired. What happened to the weekend? All the plans of things to get done, some of them done, others still on todo list on the back of an envelop on the counter somewhere. There's sun and clouds today - wait, there's the sun, ah. Oh, now clouds, okaay... The body and heart moving like that: waking up, looking around, closing down, feeling the hurt. Quick. Coffee, something to eat, get to work. It's a busy day. 

 

This is the 21st day smober. Wow, that went fast in retrospect, and yet some of those 27-minute stretches felt like an eternity. What happened? I'm 21 days older. Did I think my life would be better by now just for stopping smoking? What are my dreams and goals, really? How do I continue to skirt the abyss of apathy and despair that has a smoking table reserved just for me at the bottom? 

 

Sometimes, it all lines up: the plan, the effort, the outcome, the feeling, the hope. And other times, none of it makes sense: time goes by, you do something good for yourself, show some self-love and self-care by not smoking, eating better, taking care of yourself and the people around you, and still nothing makes sense. Either way, the time goes by. Tick-toc. Where are we going? 2 days, 20 years without a smoke. Where are we going?

 

All I know today is I don't know for sure. I know I have dreams. I know I long for love. I know I have skills and talents that I could bring to the world and fully intend to as my strength and balance returns. I know I have many blessings and good things in my life, and I know I have a strange malaise that continues to visit me every day and every night during this time of grief and smoking cessation. 

 

And I know I am grateful for 20 days and this beginning of a 21st day. Nothing that I am going through, no lost dreams, no longings, no confusions or clarities will be in any way significantly improved or remedied by smoking. A couple/three puffs might, for a moment, bring back a familiar and even pleasurable feeling, after which I am certain that the disappointment, apathy, and likely deeper confusion and despair will return. 

 

So for today, again holding onto the promise from others - this will get better, you will heal, you will find happiness again, and more important, you will do that with self-care, not through killing yourself and becoming a slave to the addiction. 

 

Grateful for this day! Grateful for all of you! Grateful to still have life, to still have breath!

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