Taking Down the Tree

Smyrish and I put up our very first Christmas tree together this December, and hosted our first Christmas dinner as well. Neither of us have been big Christmas people since we have met. For one, we are not religious in any way, and secondly the holiday is too hectic and expensive. Once we were married, there were too many opportunities for hurt feelings, driving on bad highways, stress, and angry relatives and co-workers that we pretty much just gave it up, and took ourselves out of the game. No one seemed to notice, and it suited us just fine.

This year felt different though. I think that in part, we were feeling more in the Xmas spirit because we were going to be alone. Our immediate families are all in Saskatchewan, and there is always that feeling of "missing out" that plagues me when I can't be everywhere doing everything and seeing everyone. We really do miss them all, and knowing that you don't know when we'll see them again makes you really appreciate people. I think the main reason for feeling all festive, although I didn't think of it at the time, was the fact that we are HOME. For the first time since we moved in together, we know that we are settled. There really wasn't a point in decorating, or having a tree or anything for the first few years we lived together, because I was usually working, and if I wasn't we would spend Xmas at the home of one of our many parents. Then we had our little adventure last year, which really made us appreciate the finer things in life, like having a permanent place to send your mail, and indoor plumbing.

I have always wrestled with the thought of being "settled" in to one place. Settled was boring, it was giving up on life, and closing your mind to new opportunities for adventure. After this past year, I now know that that is only true if you make it so. Being settled is being comfortable, and not in a "I'm giving up" kind of way. Smyrish and I have worked hard to figure out where we want to be.

So, as I drag that dead tree through the living room and throw it out on the lawn today, I will know that even though we have been through more than our fair share of crap in the past year, I wouldn't change a thing, because it got us to where we are right now. We are home, and we are happy, and life is good.

Jealous of Your Cigarette

For the third time in 4 months, and the 46th time in 15 years, I am attempting to quit smoking cigarettes for good. I am heading into Day 4, and life has never been better. I have absolutely no finger nails left and have started to chew the skin off where they once were, my eyes are swollen and pussy from hours of crying over completely unknown reasons out of nowhere, I bump into everything, my skin is crawling, I am a total bitch, I want to kill myself, I'm having nightmares, and there are babies crawling on the ceiling. Okay, so there are no babies crawling on the ceiling, but there might as well be. I feel like a fucking junky.

The thing is, I know I can quit, 'cause I've quit before. It was hard. It was horrible. I didn't like it one bit. I almost always started up again because of the depression and the moodiness. It's hard to go to work, or do anything, when you aren't sure if you are going to burst into tears at any given moment, for any given reason. This time though, I have no job. I don't live with anyone that smokes. My large social circle has shrunk to a small triangle. My funds are limited. I am living somewhere where smoking truly is frowned upon. I can feel my body getting older, and I know that not smoking will help me feel better. I have a nicotine inhaler that sometimes helps me get through those nic-fit moments. (Although I have considered just eating the nicotine tablets...yes, I know that would kill me, but I think it might help.) I have a husband who not only puts up with all of the above withdrawal "symptoms", but hugs me, and understands me, and tells me positive things. If he wasn't here...well, if he wasn't here, I'd be going and buying a carton of cigarettes, and just giving up on myself.

Anyways, so it's been hard so far. I wish I could be like all those bazillions of people out there that quit smoking and it was so freakin' easy for them, they put their mind to it, and never even craved it again. At most, it took three days, and then they were running marathons and chairing the lung cancer association. They all hate smokers now, and pity us, and goddamn do they get on my nerves, but I wish this could be easy for me too. I really do.

I know that I cannot drink alcohol if this is to work out, and it's a good thing drinking isn't really part of my life since moving away. ( I have had  TWO beer since leaving Regina. ) Alcohol lowers my inhibitions, and is the reason I started up again last time. There is nothing better in my mind than having a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes, and that truth is sick and twisted. There has got to be something better in life, and I need to figure that out. I'm hoping that this trip away from everything and everyone will help me clear my head and help me figure out a healthy way to make myself happy. To be happy, and not have to reward myself for being happy with drugs and alcohol. If I am to drink, or even have the occasional cigarette, it should be as a treat to myself, not a damn lifestyle.

Cigarettes have been a part of me since I was 16 years old. When I started smoking, I stopped cutting my hands and arms up when I was upset. When I quit smoking, the first thing I think of doing when I'm nic-fitting is hurting myself to distract myself. It's scary. I feel like I lost my best friend. My bad-influence, unhealthy, loser best friend, that I loved despite all her flaws. Everything I have ever done has involved cigarettes in one way or another, and it's hard to change your whole way of life...to change yourself, overnight. Or it is for me anyways. I'm not all that strong when it comes to looking after myself.

For now, I'm just going to try and chew on something other than my fingers, keep a roll of toilet paper near to wipe the tears, and hope this passes, or at least diminishes a little bit sometime before I'm old and gray.