The Last Vestiges

There are very few things about me five years ago that still exist today. My heart is the same, I still wear my leather jacket even though it’s too big and I still write, read, listen to the same music. There are a few other things – sex included – that are the same. Everything about my physical exterior has changed except my eyes and my height. Additionally, a lot about the interior me has changed, too. I almost feel like my transition to ‘The New Improved Jill 2.0’ is complete. Oh I’d still like to have a thicker skin and I’d still like to learn to take better care of my basic health and well-being. But for the most part, I’ve exceeded my own expectations in these changes that began the day I said “yes” to my lap band.

There’s just this one thing left that I want to make a serious effort to change. Something that’s been with me since high school. Something that has brought me comfort in times of stress; has given me excuses to bail on things when I needed a break; has been my only consolation when things were really bad. It’s my last rebellion, my only remaining vice.

It’s this pack of Marlboro Light Box right here next to me.

Last year, I bought a box of nicotine patches. They’re been on my dining room (the catch all for my house) since. For the last year, I have wanted to quit. But I’ve been resistant. And today I think I realized why.

It’s pretty much all that’s left of me.

I was unhappy five years ago. But I was comfortable with who I was. And quitting smoking is the final step in letting Jill 1.0 go completely. It’s become much less about giving up an unhealthy habit and much more about letting go.

It’s not because I don’t believe it’s unhealthy – I do. I watched my father-in-law (C’s dad) die slowly and painfully to COPD brought on by smoking. My own grandfather, my mom’s dad – died from throat cancer, again more than likely brought on by smoking. I know that these little white sticks will be the death of me if I don’t toss them. I do know it. Please don’t mistake my reticence for ignorance. I just need to be able to let go of my past completely.

After a winter of having to bundle up to trudge out into the snow to have a cigarette at work, after having to brush perfume through my hair before my cousin’s wedding because I smoked like a chimney for the 3 hour drive to the town that the wedding was in, after not being able to smell right, taste right or go places I want to go – I know that the time has come. I’m running out of excuses. It’s something I need to face head on.

I realize, though, that it’s more about psychology than it is about physicality. I walked outside into the rain today to get in my car mid-afternoon to have a smoke and as soon as I shut the door of my car, that little thought hit me. “You’re not doing this because you want to do it. You’re doing it because you’ve always done it and because you don’t know how to not want to do it.”

I used to believe that nicotine had control over me, but I don’t think that’s it. I don’t feel like this is a physical addiction. Oh, I’m not naïve enough to believe that there won’t be some issues when I finally give them up, but I do think that the habit, and the psychology that surrounds it, is going to be much more difficult to throw away.

My reason for writing this today is that I feel if I write it, I’ll be able to own it. It’s very easy to talk the talk. I want to be able to really and truly understand that taking the step to throw the little white sticks away is not only for my physical health but letting go of this last vestige of Who I Was and taking one more step toward Who I Almost Am.

Last year, when my weight loss slowed down and I stopped exercising, I had to have a serious ‘talk to myself’ weekend. Maybe it’s time for another one of those. This time, about this.

I’ll be working on getting ready to make that happen.

They say that understanding is 90% of fixing. I understand now. Let’s see if it’s enough to make me fix.