Smoking…et al

So I just drove a half hour in the rain and cold for a cigarette. I am a junkie. I had a horrible night, I was awake countless times, (63 according to my Fitbit.) I felt less than human and I needed a cigarette. Just one.The very act of packing the pack against my palm and the synapses were firing, endorphin were being released. Ripping off the silver strip and opening the pack I could feel myself starting to relax. That very first drag hitting the back of my throat was such a relief. By the halfway mark I felt human, back in control. It’s a horrible thing. Tomorrow I see the specialist on smoking cessation. Even though i smoked one, I still feel like I’m winning. There were over seventy cigarettes I did NOT smoke. Sixty cravings I resisted. It is not over yet.

I’ve disappointed my kids so many times, I’ve attempted to quit so many times. This is the best attempt so far. I have to succeed this time. I can’t breathe right, I have COPD. If I can’t breathe, I can’t walk. If I can’t walk, I can’t build muscles. If I don’t build muscle, I won’t build strength. It’s a vicious cycle.

As for the weight, I have been cooking and cooking and cooking healthy. LOL. I’ve made chicken turkey soup with spinach, onions, celery, carrots, garlic, and pastini using only low fat and low sodium stock. I’ve made Thai peanut chicken with a side of rice containing onions, mushrooms, lots of asparagus, bell peppers and craisins. I roasted a chicken last night and made green bean casserole to go with that because my daughter loves it. I think I’m going to scramble a few eggs with spinach and feta for breakfast. I’ve made or exceeded my goal of 80 ounces of water a day. I’ve also made or exceeded my step goal (only 2,000 steps due to my lack of mobility) and have burned more calories than I took in. I guess I’ll find out Thursday what I weigh.

Thanksgiving was not that great. It was an emotional disaster. I haven’t been writing because I haven’t had the emotional fortitude to write. Someone I love temporarily crushed my spirit, and stole my hope. I have it back now. Depression is a terrible thing, it robs you of your worth, your drive, and any motivation you may scrounge up is so fragile. Careless words can bring you to your knees. My dreams for me are not someone else’s dreams for me. I am not wrong because I dream differently. I am not wrong for wanting to hope, for daring to hope. After all these years of depression I will take whatever hope wherever I find it. No one can tell me what is in my soul, it is my soul.

If you know someone who is depressed do not ever tell them that their joy is not valid, even if it seems stupid to you. Let them have it. Be glad they found some joy. Do not berate them about their shortcomings, chances are they lay awake at night criticizing themselves and they don’t need to hear it from you. Don’t tell them what they should think or how they should feel. Talk to them, ask them why they feel the way they feel.If they are exited about something, show interest instead of making them feel dumb for being excited. Understand that not much excites them, so if they are excited it means its something important to them.  Don’t lecture them, instead ask them how you can help. Don’t just listen, actually hear what they are trying to say. Look up depression and ways to help. Depression is an actual illness, it is not just a figment of the imagination. It is real.

 

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