up in smoke

Last year at this time my husband was in rehab. I was home and a mess. Everything was going wrong, home alone to take care of everything and I had taken a transfer and ended up working for an insane woman.

But each night I would come home from work and grab the phone and head outside for a night of talking, crying and SMOKING.

Living in Florida it was especially comforting to sit outside on a beautiful November evening and light up a cigarette. I could sit outside in my backyard overlooking the lake and puff away for hours.

I have spent so many hours in my lifetime exactly the same way. When my first husband was sick I'd sit outside on the porch and smoke, when this husband left me in NY on my own I'd sit outside with my friend at night and smoke.

In a very sick way I guess I miss this habit. Not so much the smoking. I have never become addicted to anything and believe me I've abused enough substances in my lifetime and never had a craving. But the misery, the drama, the sadness that went along with the smoking I miss! I think I've gone crazy but it all became such a big part of my identity, this is how I comforted myself and I miss that nurturing part of me.

I know there are many more healthy ways to nuture myself, and I know that not having misery and drama in my life is supposed to be a good thing. But in truth I want to run to the nearest gas station and buy me a pack of smokes.