43. Smoking

 

Some mentally ill people smoke. I did. I chain-smoked 2 1/2 packs of Camel Lights per day. They were a dollar a pack when I started smoking them.

When I lived in supported housing there was a guy who sold cartons of cigarettes for the same price he paid on the military base in Monterey.  The cost was less, which helped because a good portion of my SSI check went to cigarettes. 

Smoking gives a mentally ill person something to do. You can spend hours smoking cigarettes and sipping coffee, soda, or even beer, while you're stuck in a house all day because of your paranoia. Each drag on a cigarette and its dose of nicotine gave minor comfort from the mental pain.

Cigarettes literally become like friends. You take them everywhere you go. I remember thinking one day while standing at a bus stop to catch a bus home, that all I needed were cigarettes and alcohol. There were periods of courage when I'd go to a bar during the day, drink up to a six-pack, and chain smoke.  Back then you could smoke in a bar in California. This would occupy me for a while and then I would go home. It was a pleasure that broke up the painful, paranoid hours spent pacing in the house. 

Years later, after my mind had healed some and I was preparing to go back to school, I quit smoking. My mom died of lung cancer during that time and the fear of getting emphysema caused me to cut back to a quarter pack a day.  I smoked the whole pack but only took a few puffs of each cigarette. 

I then read a book about how to quit that taught me how to mentally prepare to quit for good. I followed the suggestions and was able to stop smoking.  It took effort every day for the first month or two but it wasn't difficult. I never again had the desire to smoke, and it's good knowing my body has cleaned all the tar out of my lungs.