The Nicotine Troll

Yeah, I almost sabotaged my efforts at gradual cigarrette smoking cessation here over the last week, and it almost sent me into a virtual tailspin not unlike the one I went through a couple of years back when I tried a rudimentary variation on the same process. In other words, I tried to cut down too much, too quickly. The last time I did this, I ended up going back to smoking more than I had been before I started the process. Not cool. I was smoking, before, just under a pack a day. When I went into my deluge of self-detructive abandon in the aftermath of the great-great granmother of all nicotine fits, I suddenly found myself putting away a pack and a half-easily.

Of course, this is still better, much better than the two complete packs that I used to smoke, to say nothing of the two and a half packs before that. But I suddenly realized, hey, I have successfully reduced my input of tobacco, and it wasn't that hard. Money had a lot to do with it. Access had a lot as well. At one time you could smoke pretty much anywhere you wanted, at least in sections reserved for it. But this practice became more and more frowned upon as the habit itself became ever more expensive, with no end to the price hikes apparrent.

But the main problem that was keeping me from stopping all together, besides the actual addictive properties of the product itself, was the simple fact that I enjoy smoking very much. Or I did before it made me a slave to it. And I mean that literally. For a good while, I could not imagine being without a pack of cigarrettes within reaching distance, at any time. Just the thought of having to go somewhere for any purpose, for any length of time, was enough to insure that I would go out of my way to have a full pack of cigarrettes on my person, and if possible a spare pack just in case I inadverdantly was away for a longer period of time than expected.

But I made other discoveries. When I would be in certain situations that necessitated not smoking-busses, movie theatres, the librarie, etc.,I found that it wasn't actually that hard to go without a smoke. On the other hand, as soon as I got to the pint where I could finally have a cigarrette-man, did I ever put them away.

Anyway, it got to the point where I realized that I had to quit or at least try to, and so I tried, and I failed. To make a long story short, I realized that the only way that I could stop was gradually. None of this cold turkey bull shit for me, thee is no way I am going to spend the rest of my life fighting a craving for tobacco, thank you very much. So I tried again this year, detrmined, at that time, to be completely free of cigearrettes by Samhain (Halloween). The way things look, I will not suceed in that initial original goal. I will, however, have reduced to no more than six cigarrettes per day. And I will probably remain at that rate of smoking for a fairly long amount of time. maybe for as long as four months or more. Then, I will try to reduce from there. And maybe next Samhain, I can finally quit.

Yeah, I know, to some people, that probably sounds ridiculous, or at least weak. Well, yes, weak it is, that's what addiction does to you. It weakens the will and saps the energy necessary to offer any kind of resistance. And you feel edgey, nervous, irritable, and maybe in some cases even violent(Which is why I think up to a point the government and other anti-tobacco forces may have been playing with fire-no pun intended- when they started this anti-tobacco campaign).

You make so many associations when you are a nicotine addict. You have a cigarrette when you awaken in the morning, with your coffee, after meals, after sex, after a bath or shower, after a walk, before a walk, during a walk, before going to bed at night. That is the first thing, at least in my case, that you have to conquer, the mind-set that makes nicotine such an essential accessorrie to so many vital and necessary activities, or simply the most enjoyable ones.

I tried to time my reductions with the Sabbats of my Pagan religion. As these Sabbats mark pivotal points of the calendar that mark the suns gradual reduction in intensity, I was in effect seeking to magically and even spiritually have the sun take my problem, my addiction, away from me. A kind of magickal self-hypnosis, in a sense.

The scariest thing happenned early on in the process. I considered the prospect that, since there is a life force in everything, and this life force has it's own guardian spirit, in a sense, and since this would of course include tobacco, I considered the prospect of attunning with what I imagined to be the "goddess of tobacco". In my delusion, I imagined this goddess would be a dark, sultry, seductive goddess, not all together evil, but potentially destructive if crossed. And so, I went through a period of meditations, involving insense, candles, essential oils, and semi-precous stones-and, of course, tobacco-in an attempt to attune with this "goddess".

Unfortunately, the vision I finally received in a dream revealed a creature unlike anything I had previously ever imagined. Far from being the seductive siren I had imagined, the creature I saw was a horrendously ugly, dark green and oily troll looking creature, who turned away quickly from me after turning and grunting something in a kind of taunting dismissal. The best description I can give of this creature is to imagine the cartoon character Shrek. The creature was similar to that, ony far uglier, and with more of an attitude. Plus, I got the impression that this creature is actually quite stupid. But of course, this would also be in keeping with the demeanor and decription of a creature who inadverdantly destroys the life that it is dependant upon for it's own survival. In short, I was seeing my own personal, private little troll. And he has no intention of going anywhere.

Unfortunately, I have gotten to the point where, having reduced now to about eight cigarrettes a day, I now enjoy smoking again, the way I did when I first started smoking. In other words, I am now at the most dangerous point of all. Because this is the point where, as I wonder if maybe that troll is really that stupid, I start to question my need to stop all together. It does have some use, some benefit, I start to tell myself. What could be the harm of continuing to smoke, so long as I do not go more than a half pack a day.

And of course, the answer to that would be, because that would be the first step in the process of reversal of the process in reverse. Something that would be akin to a vicous cycle. To fail now, as this would surely lead me to do, would make it that much harder to start the process all over again. So long as I remain at eight a day until the carton I now am on is gone, and then reduce to perhaps six with the next carton, five a day with the next, etc., I should be okay. But there is going to have to come a time when I am going to have to stop completely, or risk that cycle reemerging and asserting itself.

Luckily, I have one thing if nothing else that is in my favor. With every reduction I sucessfuly phase down to, my will power gets a little bit stronger. The addiction gets a little weaker. And that troll becomes a little less intimidating.