The doctors have given me a lineup I didn’t audition for: risk of COPD, prostate cancer still watching from the sidelines, and the possibility of thyroid cancer making an unwanted encore. When I write this blog, I keep the tone positive. But underneath the optimism is something stronger than cheerfulness. It’s resolve.
With those health risks on the table, this isn’t a gentle lifestyle adjustment anymore. It’s time to go full force, all engines forward, against the cigarettes.
This morning I took my usual walk to the 7-Eleven. The old path, the old ritual, the old battlefield. I bought tea. I even tried to buy a pack of Marlboros, but I came up short. I could have grabbed a cheaper brand. The addiction suggested it, politely and persistently.
I chose not to.
So far today, the damage report is small: one puff from a cigarette butt in an ashtray. Not a victory parade, but not a defeat either. Today is going to be a hard day. I’m planning for the cravings, the restlessness, the mental negotiations. But I’m also taking it easy. No heroics. Just steady resistance.
Right now, my strategy is simple: distraction with purpose.
I’m relaxing with Whiskey Kitty, watching her stretch, prowl, and settle into her little world. She has no idea she’s part of a recovery program, but she is. Her presence pulls my attention out of my head and back into the moment.
And it doesn’t have to be just the cat. It could be anything that replaces the cigarette ritual with something that builds instead of burns:
Art.
Music.
Cooking.
Working on cars.
Writing.
Anything that turns the hands and mind toward creation instead of combustion.
There’s another weapon in this campaign: money.
Every dollar not burned on cigarettes is being redirected into my art business. And the results are real. I now have six major art events scheduled for the first six months of this year. Each event is a reminder that cigarettes don’t just cost health. They cost opportunity. They cost growth. They cost the future version of me.
And then there’s the alliance.
I made a promise to my mom: if she helps me secure a safe place to live, I will quit smoking. That makes this bigger than personal willpower. This is a pact. A partnership.
So the battle lines are clear:
Mom.
Whiskey Kitty.
Me.
Against the smoking addiction beast.
This isn’t just a habit anymore. This is a war for lungs, for years, for energy, for art, for life itself.
Today the mission is simple.
No cigarettes today.
No cigarettes tomorrow.
And after that, we fight the next day.
Once again… I got this. 🐾🔥🎨
by Dan and Bonkers
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