it's 4 am and here i am in front of the computer with my mug of irish breakfast tea...
i couldn't sleep.
i've been having trouble staying asleep all week but tonight i couldn't fall back to sleep for the life of me. the reason is that i quit smoking. yep. the entire time you've been reading this blog, you've been reading the innermost thoughts and aspirations of a damn dirty smoker. ;) until the beginning of this week anyway.
it's something i kept quiet about here because i didn't want to inadvertently encourage someone else to take up the habit or somehow praise the addiction itself, romanticize it. and then there's the fact that smokers are subjected to some pretty crass and ruthless judgment from the general public too. strangers feel completely okay about marching right up to some random smoker on the street and alerting that person to how "disgusting" they are. it's insanely rude. insanely. i've always been blown away by the fact people think it's totally alright to behave like that and i really didn't want any of that rage and weirdness happening here on my blog. and also, to be totally honest, it's something i'd become increasingly ashamed of. i was not proud to be a smoker. not in the least. i felt pretty stupid about it actually. i started smoking as a very young teenager. 14 years old. and a dumb decision i made in my adolescence was ruling my adult life. it made me feel like a pathetic asshole, to put it bluntly. and i'm afraid of chemo. i'm afraid of what this could lead to. i feel bad about how negligent i've been in terms of caring for my own life. i feel bad i let so many things get in the way. i feel bad that i willingly traded my opportunities to lead a positive and healthy life to sit down in the muck and bullshit with other people.
i'm amazed at how quickly time has passed and how distracted i've been...
and there are all the reasons, all the events, stacked one on top of the other. the long line of trauma and tragedy and every single hurdle that gets nailed down in front of you. time moves so damn fast when there is always a crisis to attend to.
and then a member of my family gets cancer. and i turn 30. and i realize how damn sad all this is... that i've spent more than half my life (16 years) living under the weight of an addiction, and that i developed an addiction of this magnitude as a child. it made me so profoundly sad. so sad i felt ill. and all i could see was wreckage. the wreckage of a family. everywhere, everywhere. i think i've been trying to grieve us... what has happened, what was lost, who we've become... for a very long time. and maybe that ball is finally starting to roll? all i know is that a year ago, on my 29th birthday, i decided i'd had enough. i decided to take the time NOW to clean up the mess, clear it off my path so that i could at least see where i was standing. i decided it was time to start building a life that felt right for me... no matter how long it might take to build. i decided it was time to take Time for myself.
that's where The Almighty Jog originated. and no alcohol. and then about a year later, The Almighty Jog graduates to The Mighty Run. No Alcohol turns into No Refined Sugar. and since that habit was way easier to kick than i thought it'd be, i thought: fuck it, girl. do it now. right now. it's time. and so i quit smoking.
and this is not my first attempt, but this is the first time i've ever lived a healthy life. between running and drinking tea and not eating sugary foods, it's a lot easier than i remember it being- quitting. A LOT easier. in fact, every day i feel better and better. i guess i was just completely ready to give it up... a horribly stupid and malicious thread of my childhood.
i need it to be GONE.
all this to say: sleep disturbances are a very common withdrawal symptom. :)
these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.
thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.
my artist website is here.
my artist website is here.