questionable morals

despite the self-loathing and insecurity that has been present in me for as long as i can remember, i have always prided myself on having the belied that i am able.

i know i am able to get good grades
i know i am able to be a good leader
i know i am able to be a good friend
i know i am able to stick to my morals.

i have accomplished something in each of these little sections this semester.
except one? maybe?

before...senior year?, i was always the one to step up and say "that's not a good idea."
i got lot of shit for it. especially middle-high school when it wasn't considered admirable to have the teacher like you.

but now? what has happened to me?

i'm not saying that i have gone off the deep end and do a lot of really immoral shit. because...all things considered, i am not an extremely rebellious person. i care a lot about how my superiors perceive me, and that is what keeps me going to class and what causes me to have an overwhelming amount of anxiety if a teacher or person in power is angry with me.

i am not proud of myself, though.
i was just standing outside the library, smoking a cigarette.
as i exhaled i was thinking about how fucking good it felt. and then i saw it.
i saw myself, as if i was someone else. i felt detached from my body. i was behind it. and i was looking at myself smoking.

when did i start?
and...why?
how many cigarettes in rendered me "a smoker"?
at what point did my body start to crave nicotine?

i have this horrible feeling that i started smoking because my friends do it. i know that my first cigarette was the summer before college. at a party. (at my house.)
the party is laughable. it was a few people that i invited, plus a bunch of people that came because they hoped my brother would be there. (he wasn't. but they stayed because there was booze.)
and there was one handle of rum.
for like....20 people.
one of the guys that showed up is really attractive. he asked me if it was okay if he smoked up outside and i said yeah. him and another guy went towards the door and then they asked if i "wanted some"
i decided that yes, i did want to go outside with two attractive guys that i had been going to school with since 8th grade, yet had never spoken to me.
it then occurred to me that they were smoking weed. it made me uncomfortable, but i was embarrassed that i had not known the difference between smoking up and smoking. so i let them do it. i took a hit. i coughed, a lot.
"first time, huh?
one of them asked me. i nodded and they looked at each other.
then they said it was probably not the best idea for me to smoke up for the first time in my state (looking back i was hardly drunk. but it was my drunkest night yet.)
i nodded, secretly grateful. they handed me a cigarette though. an american spirit. i smoked the whole thing. it made me so incredibly nauseous that i left the party and went to bed early.

cigarettes have always grossed me out, but at the same time, i have always been mesmerized of how smoke curls in the air and the relaxation that comes over a smoker's face after his first long drag.

i guess that's why i did it again.
not until college. and first semester, i pretty  much only did it when i was drunk. and when someone offered.
my first sober cigarette happened when i ended up with a pack after a night out. it was in my purse and i was with one of my friends. we were getting our nails done and shopping. we had borrowed my boyfriend-type-figure's car. we were getting gas and it was really cold and we were talking about how stressed out we were...because it was late, my phone had died and we didn't know the way back without a gps, and the tank was on empty. neither of us had much money so we were not positive how we'd pay for it.

she said that it was times like those that made her understand why people smoke.

i realized they were in my purse. so we had one.
neither of us were smokers. we both, however, submitted to drunken chain-smoking on a regular basis at that point. we got looks of disapproval from a mother with her child and we were kind of giddy and it was windy so neither of us finished it.

at some point, i started to buy packs of cigarettes on my own. it would take me two or three weeks to finish them. i only smoked when i was drunk.

the first time i remember smoking alone (but it may not have been the first time i smoked alone) was when i was walking to the train station. i simply wanted something to do with my hands. i realized how quickly the walk went by when i smoked. so i became a sort of closet smoker. only when i was walking to and from the train. and behind buildings with a smoker-friend. and on drunken nights.

and then at some point, it became a habit. it became a way to calm my anxiety. it became a reward for studying for a long period of time. a way to break up time, something to do with my hands. something to obsess about and measure and the added bonus of it suppressing my appetite.

i am not proud of smoking. i think it's disgusting. i get embarrassed when people that i have not yet gotten to know well see me smoking.

i am hesitant to classify my nicotine habit as an addiction, because if i "can't" smoke, i don't mind. (like when i am with family) over thanksgiving, over summer...during the average day, i did not think "hmm a cigarette would be really delicious right now.

i think (fleetingly?) about smoking in moments of anxiety. or when i see someone smoking. or when someone asks me if i want to go outside and smoke.
but i do not feel that my body craves it.
if i do not have enough money, or transportation, i am okay with not having cigarettes.

i think it's pointless.
it was pointless for me to start. i would have been better off not knowing.
i am both curious and addictive. bad combination.
could i quit? yes, i'm sure i could quit very easily.


do i wan to quit? i don't think so.
and that is what bothers me and disappoints me. that i don't care enough about my health and my image to quit.

i could go on and on. and in the same way with other substances and habits.
but for now, i'm going to go have a cigarette.

i'm kidding. i just thought that would be hysterically ironic but it wasn't, really.