So, the first month of 2011 is 2 days away from being done. I am finally done with smoking. The only thing I think I might have trouble with is when other people are around. Smoking was my prop that let me not care what they might or might not think of me. With a smoke, I could concentrate on thinking about that smoke, I could maintain my confidence because with a smoke, on the edge of my tongue is a fuck you readily implied, even if I don’t have to or want to say it. And so I felt okay with myself and wouldn’t worry about the rest. It let me not be self involved in the face of my anxiety.
And I had it done. Years of thinking, waiting, wanting and thinking. And now it’s done and I swear I’m so pleased. I look different. I’m me but different. Onward to the next thing.
I want to know who I am now and who I’m going to be next. The thought excites me and I am grateful.