Giving up the Fags

As you can see by the date I wrote this little ditty more than 20 years ago. The irony is more than 10 years after I stopped smoking, I was diagnosed with a smoking related lung disease. I now struggle to walk up the driveway unaided whilst friends who have continued to puff away are fine.
Giving up the Fags
Giving up the fags
It’s driving me round the twist
Feel like heading for the pub
Getting well and truly pissed
Wake up in the morning
The thing I think of first
The dirty filthy smelly weed
Next comes caffeine for the thirst
Hardest thing when giving up the fags
Is making the decision
Then coping with my smoker friends
The “you’ll never succeed” derision
Having made the terrifying decision
Shit! I’m really going to stop
I need one last binge of puffing
Till my lungs are ready to pop
Day one without a fag
Resolve is really strong
Just the occasional nagging doubt
Could my decision have been wrong?
The second day without them dawns
Mouth is not so gritty
Think I’m coping fairly well
Just the odd bout of self pity
At daybreak on the third day
Feel I’m starting to weaken
Just a puff or two wont hurt
No can’t let myself be beaten
Halfway through day four
I would kill for just one puff
So much harder than imagined
Will I be strong enough?
Starting to see some positives
People don’t treat me like a leaper
Taste buds are improving
Need less salt and pepper
As time goes by I notice
I don’t think of them quite so much
Just occasionally when having a drink
I know I mustn’t touch
Must remember if I don’t succeed
In giving up the poisonous fag
Sooner rather than later will be
My journey in the Body Bag   
Tricia 1988                                                                                                                                                                                                         

About triciabertram

I have written all my life. Writing helps me to make sense of a world I often don’t understand. Poetry is my supreme solace, closely followed by literature and music. When my son ended his life in 1999 I embarked on the most difficult journey of my life, my grief journey. To survive in this unknown, harsh landscape I had to write. It was for me, the only way I could even begin to move forward. Then in 2009 my darling husband died suddenly and so my journey continues. I write about other issues but because of my life experience, grief and death are continuing themes in my writing life. In our culture I believe there is a fear of death, an inability to accept the inevitability of our mortality, and this creates enormous difficulties for the bereaved and those around them. I have begun this blog in the hope I will create a small ripple in the pond of fear that is currently drowning the reality of death and grief. I will continue to skim the stones of my truth, watch them bounce, and see how many ripples I can make.

Posted on December 26, 2011, in On a Playful Note, Poems and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Congratulations on your success. My dad had the same type of thing after he quit. He was discouraged because he felt worse than ever for a long time. We still have him around though after over 20 years and some of his friends have gone. If he hadn’t quit he might not have been strong enough to make it through open heart surgery ten years ago. I believe it has prolonged his life, and yours too. No doubt there are people who are really glad you are still here. You are a true success.

  2. I can identify with this. I gave up in the eighties after having smoked since my early teens. But I was faced with the prospect of having to say to my son, “do as i say, not as I do”, and integrity won the day. I’m sorry to hear of the ironic outcome. So far, so good, for me. Who knows what different outcome would have been if you hadn’t given up the fags. There’s no knowing – but you might not have been here now to tell the tale. I’m glad you are.

  3. I’m still here, one of my favouritie songs. If I’d continued to smoke I’d be long gone. I’m pleased your dad is doing well.

  4. Jo I know I made the right choice, I’m just amused at times by this, one of many of life’s ironies.

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