ICanAndWill's Touchstone

[ICanAndWill]

Today is 30 days smoke-free.
It is also 15 years since we buried my wife’s son, who died of an accidental overdose. He was 18, 12 days away from being 19.
We found him after his friend alerted us.
I can still see, hear, and feel everything as if it happened yesterday.
It also happens to be his father’s birthday today.
That man makes my blood boil. His self-inflicted drama and narcissism offends me so very much. So, too, does my wife’s continued love for him.
I relapsed last time because I couldn’t handle the stress and overwhelming thoughts and feelings from the last time we let him in our lives.
She has let him go per my (and our priest’s) request.

But today isn’t about me.

Only he knows what it’s like to have buried their son, and only he can truly sit with her in understanding and mourning.

So, I’m going to suggest that she reach out to him.

I already want a cigarette. And, I already know that they will not give me what I want. It will immediately give me a headache, my mouth will taste like shit, and I will be consumed by guilt and shame. I also know that I cannot stop at just one. I’m trying to remind myself that I don’t want a cigarette, I want to numb.

But I’ve numbed long enough.

It’s okay to feel these feelings. Let them do what they want and need, and let them go on their way.

I want to go to confession this evening and then Mass. I need a spiritual reset. I need all of the graces I can get.

Yesterday I almost broke down and bought cigarettes.

But I didn’t.

I won’t today, either.

I just need to focus on today. Yesterday is done and tomorrow isn’t promised.

And today isn’t about me.

It’s in serving others that we feel better about ourselves. So, if I want comforted, I must first comfort.

God in Heaven, give me the strength to get through today—just today.

[ICanAndWill]

32 days smoke-free
2.5 days porn-free

Yesterday I went to confession and then to a men’s group. I’m attempting to not overthink my participation at the group. Did I monopolize the conversation? Was I too forward, arrogant, or take things too personally? When one of the priests said that “the statistics state that those who have been abused become abusers” my heart stopped and my blood boiled.
I tried to be kind in my response, like I didn’t want to humiliate him by revealing that majority of those statistics were done in prison populations. So, I simply said “I hope there’s more hope for me than just statistics”… I found it ironic that we believe in a God who walks on water, who heals and changes, and yet he so liberally tossed out outdated statistics.
A couple of the men smoked a pipe. One later apologized when I revealed I’m in the process of quitting. I told him it wasn’t necessary but appreciated it. To be honest, it smelled good; yet, I wasn’t tempted. I tried pipe smoking and I like to inhale… Needless to say, I’ve tore up my lungs too much doing that. So the temptation wasn’t there. I allowed myself to enjoy the aroma, and I was far enough away where it was the aroma sans trace amounts of nicotine.
Overall, it was a lovely day.
I got another job.
The hiring manager was gagged when I asked for less money. I told her I couldn’t risk losing my disability benefits, and it’s just part time anyway. This is to help pay for medicine and food.
The greedy are never satisfied with their wages, I suppose that’s why she was so shocked.
(I must amend my previous statement to clarify that if one doesn’t make enough to provide the basic necessities, then finding a job that pays more isn’t greedy. It’s when things become idols that we become unsatisfied regardless of how much we have.)
I’m blessed.
Although I’m in the middle of a lawsuit, under a mountain of debt that we can’t afford to get from underneath (mostly medical), and need to move in a month-and-a-half with no place lined up yet…

I have food in my belly, clean clothes on my back, love in my life, and another day of sobriety behind me with another ahead. It’s beautiful outside, and I’m open to receiving all of God’s blessings in store for today.

I hope y’all have a beautiful day, too. And if you’re struggling, let me know how I can pray for you!

[ICanAndWill]

I’m struggling today. These waves to smoke have been horrendous. Fortunately, I don’t have the money to make it convenient to buy a pack. But… that never stopped me before.

My will is to not smoke, to be a former smoker.

Smoking wouldn’t positively influence anything going on in my life, even when filtered through an addiction-lens. I’m tired of gaslighting myself, thinking that they make me feel better—even going so far as to refer to them as my medicine. I’d delude myself with fallacious statements like, it’s better for everyone that I smoke, it’s safer for everyone that I smoke, and I’ll deal with that after my nicotine levels get back to normal.

None of those statements were true.

Smoking was avoidant behavior.

I wanted to avoid being around people, I craved a literal smoke shield around me to keep people away from me. Smoking was an escape, either from a situation or someone—even if for just 5 minutes.

I was blustering, postering, and bluffing.

What I meant was, I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling, and I don’t know how to respond to that. So I’m going to make empty threats to make me appear less vulnerable.

Now, although I’m more than 3 days porn-free, I am hearing the tempting call to bow before that golden calf.

Regrettably, I’ve binged to silence the din.

I don’t doubt I can afford the calories. The regret is I wasn’t in control while I was eating, my emotions were.

Maybe it’s because my back is really hurting and I’m stressed. I don’t feel tip-top. It could be the cloudy and disgustingly muggy day, I’m not feeling well. I’m safe. It’s not depression, almost a depersonalization. This will pass…

[ICanAndWill]

34 days smoke-free
4.25 days porn-free

I slept terribly. The dogs didn’t help. Dice was being a jerk because we didn’t have enough gas to take him on a ride (his most favoritest favorite thing in the world). No matter how long of a walk, or where we walk, it doesn’t matter. He wants to go for a ride, and he didn’t. So he (who usually sleeps in another room on a different floor) decided to sleep next to me. I’m sorry, that’s not entirely true. Let me clarify, he decided to lie next to me and kick me all night. And Gracie kept pushing my feet off the side of the bed so she could have better access to the window a/c.

I’m back to “wanting” a cigarette, badly.

Someone just drove by and took a big drag on theirs. I had to stop myself from thinking…man, I bet that feels good. Mostly because I suck at gambling, and because fantasizing is a dangerously close step to relapse.

So, I came here. After scrolling through this and that, I began to read some of my old posts. CRINGE

But, that’s a part of growing, isn’t it? If we don’t look back and cringe somewhere, have we grown?

I’m amazed at the nuances of maturity. There are places that I’ve slowed down; I’ve been humbled. There are others where I have not changed at all. But, it’s those subtle fluctuations that tend to be the most meaningful. The ones that are easily overlooked and therefore forgotten or reduced to naught.

I’ve grown in my Catholic faith. I’ve since finished my BA and began working on my MATCM, but withdrew. What’s the point of getting into more debt when it’s been made abundantly clear that there is no room for me in formal ministry. My heart, my joy, and my passion is learning more about Christianity and relaying what I’ve learned and experienced. So, although I am not eligible for ministry because of my same-sex attraction, that doesn’t mean I can’t (and will continue to) minister at the lay-level. It’s inconceivable the abundance of mercy, forgiveness, and patience Jesus has with me. I love Him because He’s loved me first!

I’m discovering that I’ve been more hedonistic than previously thought. My addictions have the same themes: disordered self-soothing.

This is where the Catholic theology of redemptive suffering has been paramount in my life, especially this past year. If life is going to suck sometimes, if we are going to encounter suffering, why not make it holy by offering it up?

It seems like I’ve been encountering “lapsed Catholics” more frequently. I’ll listen to their stories non-judgementally. I try to make it clear that although I’d love them to reexperience the Sacraments, their journey is between them and God.

I know what it feels like to be so (justifiably) angry, disappointed, and betrayed by the institutional church. I know what it feels like to try to assimilate this-and-that in order to make life (and death) make sense. I came, through the Holy Spirit, to realize that there are some things that aren’t compatible.

So, although my “Christian Tarot Readings” had good intentions — those two things are incompatible.

                    Just like me and smoking. 

And as I grow, my superciliousness is being torn from me. Sometimes it flakes off painlessly, like a scab falling off in its time. Other times, it’s ripped from me like a hang nail that continues down the finger. Either way, the lessons remain the same: I am no better than anyone else and I am not immune from being pruned from the tree, even after I’ve been grafted onto it.

I hope everyone has a beautiful, safe, and sober day.

Hugs

[ICanAndWill]

Yesterday I started work at Eat’n Park.
My dad was a GM for this company for the first 12 years of my life. I grew up on this food, and in these restaurants. It seemed fitting that I, too, should work here. I love the food industry and cooking is my love language for others.
I must say, letting go of control is and was painful. I’m OCD level clean. I’m a trauma cleaner. So, going into an industrial kitchen that isn’t spotless is nerve wracking. Especially since my dad would be sent to the restaurants that needed cleaned up. He’d get them tip-top and they’d ship him to another one.
Working here is bringing up just how much I miss my dad, and those family friends that were born from Eat’n Park. I don’t know why I’ve been reminiscing so much lately.
I’m excited to say, when they ordered my shirts, they asked what size would fit…

I haven’t been able to wear a 2XL in over a decade. (I used to wear M, but I won’t go down that trail!)

For some reason, I said 2XL.

Then panicked.

Would it be too small? Will I look like fat guy in a little coat?

I went with it… I said what I said.

And it fits!!!

As I lose weight and exercise, I must relearn how to wear clothes. I used to buy big, baggy, ugly clothes because for some reason the fashion industry doesn’t want large people to look cute. I’ve had to settle for big clothes for so long that it’s become instinct to settle for online shopping, because no store has my size in stock.

I bought these pants off the rack!!!

And the longer I don’t smoke, the more I can exercise…and the more I exercise, the smaller my waist gets. It’s all interconnected!

Although I won’t fit into a M again, I don’t want to. I just want my labs to come back healthy, and I don’t want to look at a chair and think will it break?.

One step at a time.
One day at a time.

Thank you for letting me walk this with y’all!

[ICanAndWill]

I want to smoke more now than ever.
Last night, while at work, I was bombarded by smokers. That is typical for the food industry, especially in West Virginia. We lead the board for all things unhealthy. We have the most overweight, the most smokers, and the least active residents.
I began very discouraged when my smoker co-workers could “dip out for a quick smoke”, but I wasn’t given a single break. I asked to get something to drink, and these smokers literally rolled their eyes as if I were abandoning them! I was walking 20 feet away, filling a small cup, and walking 20 feet back again!
I even asked for a break—nothing!
My back was on fire, my feet killing me and I was so hot…and I thought, a cigarette would taste fabulous right now.
But I had to reframe that thought.
Sitting down for 5 minutes would be fabulous right now.

They were everywhere though.

I was greeted by a coworker in the parking lot with a cigarette. I tried to be polite and walk quickly, but friendly, towards the door. But I kept being asked “Do you smoke?”

“No, I quit — days ago.”

Then came the litany of all excuses I’ve used to not quit.

I’d assure them they have no judgement from me, that I’m focusing on my own sobriety and can’t handle the weight of theirs, too.

Then this morning I saw a very heavyset young man, driving with his oxygen hooked up in his nostrils, smoking a cigarette.
It made me smile.
Not maliciously.
I smiled because I get it.
I get it

I still had the pounding headache from my mini stroke, and I was looking forward to a cigarette.
I was frightened that my body was shutting down, with a cigarette in my hand.

The body is willing, but the mind is weak.

While walking I thought, I’ll probably start smoking again after so-and-so dies.

Why?!

Why am I forecasting?

My Mom who was a heavy smoker, went through the death of her parents, a divorce, the death of my father, raised 3 teenagers alone, plus a myriad of other stressful life events all without a cigarette.
She hasn’t smoked in 40 years.

I asked her, didn’t you want one during that time?

She replied, and I quote: “Not once.”

That gives me hope, but also makes me feel like such a weak failure.

Am I cursed to think about them all of the time?!

I’m really struggling right now, and I’m feeling very alone.

[Pandita]

When I quit cigarettes alongside with alcohol, I remeber crying because I felt so feeble and weak. I thought it would stay this terribly nerve wrecking for ever. I made a list of things that had gotten better once I had stoped smoking. Skin, taking the stairs, smelling the air… All those tiny things. The most vivid memory I have is this peach I bought myself on the way home from work! I swear, it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten in all my life .
You are not a failure! You are hanging in there, weak and feeble some days, strong and confident on others. It’s not always going to be like this.

[ICanAndWill]

Thank you so much for this! Seriously, thank you so much!!!

I’ve cried more in the past month than I have in the last decade!

I feel like the Grinch, why am I leaking?

[Pandita]

Haha, yes, I felt like the Grinch too. It’s temporary

[ICanAndWill]

I’ve made it 7 days without porn.

Last night was a close call, but by God it was a success.

I keep thinking, if I don’t use porn then I fear I will use people.
My brain has justified it this way: although masturbating to porn is still an infidelity, it’s virtual and not physically cheating on my wife with someone else.
Of the two evils, porn is the lesser of the two.

Porn kills love regardless.

It’s still insidious and corrodes anything good and holy.

But, the longer I abstain from masturbating and viewing porn, the more my thoughts travel into dangerous territory.
I wish I could just have sex with my wife.
That would just reduce her to a thing, though. And, I haven’t had sex with my wife in about 3 years for one reason or another.

I’m so sexually broken. No doubt from years of abuse as a child.

I try to tell myself positive things like: mosaics are just pieces of broken pottery glued together in beautiful designs. I’m being glued together in a beautiful way.

But then I remember that I don’t know what healthy sexuality is…

I gained 150 pounds because I couldn’t say no, or thought I couldnt. To prevent any mishaps, I gained a gross amount of weight to be gross and undesirable. Although it’s worked, now I’m morbidly obese and still sexually broken.
Fortunately, as I lose weight, age and misuse has disfigured my looks. I don’t have to worry about being that hot twink that is so empty and desperate for authentic love that he’d settle for an hour of a synthetic version.
I used to be beautiful. Young and beautiful.

I got my wish.

I gained the weight to physically keep people farther from my vulnerability, and then double-downed by putting up a smoke shield.

As I’m stripping away my protection, I’m left with those aches that haven’t been healed.

I think, am I attracted to men because if I am raped again, I’ll like it and it won’t be painful?

Obviously, that’s absurd. Rape is intrinsically non-consenting and violent. However, I’ve learned that my mind has done many wonderful and creative things in order to protect me. Although this may be a logical fallacy, it’s not altogether unfounded.

One thing I know: I love my wife. I could’ve left over these past 15 or so years. So could’ve she. But marriage is more than feeling good all of the time. It’s about forgiveness, mercy, and union even when it doesn’t make sense. It means holding onto the vow when the feelings aren’t there, and waiting for them to come back again. Right now it doesn’t feel good, but we are just experiencing growing pains.

I don’t know how to have a deep, meaningful connection with a man. I’ve been told throughout my life, my value is only sexual.

This wasn’t what I intended to write today. I’m not sure how I got here… It appears I’ve digressed too long.

7 days porn-free
37? days smoke-free

Keep up the good fight my friends!

[ICanAndWill]

I had just made it to 8 days porn-free, and jumped so quickly for it. Even in the moment I thought, nope, this isn’t going to help, but I did it anyway.

I could be working on 9 days—but, I’m not going to make a bed in my shame.

I did it, and I did it willingly — knowingly. Especially since I had binged for dinner. I thought, sin is interconnected, I better watch out for other snares and get back on track. And doggone it, I jumped right into that snare.

Time to re-evaluate.

My morning walks (and afternoon walks, and sometimes evening walks) in tandem with praying the Hours is helping me form new routines in place of those moments I’d smoke.

However, I haven’t formed new habits to replace my emotional eating and porn addiction.

As vices are interconnected, so are virtues.

As my smoking, porn, and overeating are interconnected, so is my mind, body, and soul.

Mind-smoking
Body-overeating
Soul-porn

Mind-Prayer
Body-Fasting
Soul-

It seems so obvious as I write this: almsgiving

Porn is a disconnect from humanity. It’s intrinsically evil, sinful, and selfish. Incurvatus in se

To remedy this, I must give of myself. I must connect with people. I don’t have much money to donate and what I will is a sacrifice, a grateful sacrifice to God. I also have time. I could volunteer my time to church or some of the shelters around here.

I’m not going to make a bed in my shame, not when there is a fountain of Grace running my way.

Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee…

[Matt]

@ICanAndWill

I also have time.

In some ways time is the more precious resource - more precious than money - because you can never make more of it. If you give 10 minutes, that is your 10 minutes and you are choosing to share it with another person or a worthy cause. Time can’t be given away like money. Time is always shared, like a boat on the sea: it is our vessel, conducting us safely across the water.

One step at a time Keep working at it and it will come, steadily

[ICanAndWill]

What a beautiful perspective! I love that.

[ICanAndWill]

I am utterly exhausted, and my body hurts. My joints and bones are hurting today. I got home late from work and fell into bed. It’s the kind of pain that would wake me up.

I weighed myself and I’ve gained 4 pounds.

I know what I’ve done wrong, and luckily I’m still technically on track, so thankfully I’m starting a new week today. New opportunities to not replace smoking with more food.

I am on 39 days without a cigarette.

Last night was tough.

Both cooks kept going out to smoke. If one of them had offered me one, I would have been like Galadriel when Frodo offers her the Ring.

Except, instead of diminishing and going off to the Gray Havens, I would have quit—just up and quit.

Fortunately I’m new, and I told them I was 38 days sober. And so far, everyone has been very respectful about it. However, only my one manager has said “well, and I hope this doesn’t happen if you do start smoking again, smoke in the back where customers can’t see you.”

1st thought: we’re planted in the middle of a parking lot. Literally there is no “back”, and no dumpsters or shrubs to hide behind.

2nd thought: STOP TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHERE SHE MEANS! YOU’RE NOT SMOKING ANYMORE, IT DOESN’T MATTER

3rd thought: I mean, I could smoke in my car.

4th thought: OMFG No! Stop!

My lungs are still tight. It might be from this ungodly humidity.

I’ve used up all my smoking points. No more. My next puff could literally give me another stroke.

Now I’m wrestling with jealousy.
Jealousy for those, especially skinny, smokers who still have energy and stamina after smoking.
This morning I was thinking, genetics are different, but the where the road leads is the same.

My biological maternal grandfather died of heart failure in his 60s. He has been a smoker for decades before he quit.
My step-maternal grandfather (the only one I knew) smoked for many more decades before he quit and lived to be almost 90.

Biology isn’t fair, and also care about feelings.

I need to bury my last desires to smoke before they bury me. I just don’t know how to let go, to not look at someone smoking and think I wish.

One cook wanted to go drinking with the other, when the other revealed he stopped drinking. The former was very sweet and said “we will order you an apple juice”, without realizing it’s still the place that would be tempting. When the latter explained its best he not go, the former planned for a much more sober appropriate venue that included tobacco… And weed.

I thought, how sad.

It’s sad because I don’t know how to be in social gatherings without a buffer, either. Like, my version of a party is a book club and someone brings Buffalo Chicken dip, and we all discuss Victorian monsters; or, a bonfire and we vibe to Stevie Nicks and eat hotdogs; or, we go for a spontaneous road trip and feign disdain for the invasive non-native Flora and Fauna growing alongside the roadway, albeit we think their beautiful.

But just thinking of that really makes me want a cigarette.

And it still involves something…namely food.

I’ve rambled on long enough. I want a cigarette. But I’m not going to smoke.

[ICanAndWill]

I used to drink soda like it was keeping me alive. This past January I stopped drinking all those gallons of sweet tea and soda, and just drank water. Since then, I’ve rarely drank it. Maybe a sip here and there.

Well, yesterday at work, I decided that I would allow myself a glass of root beer (my absolute favorite) as a treat. Whenever my coworkers would go have a cigarette, I’d go over to my glass and take a sip or two of root beer. It was my little “break” and it made me happy. Of course, I still drank water throughout the night.
I’m relearning how to live without a cigarette.
40 days without a cigarette
Whenever I became in too much physical pain, when I’d normally go outside to sit and smoke, I walked into the freezer. (The cold is very grounding for me. I semi-joke that while everyone retires to Florida, I’d be the only one retiring to Maine.) The blast of freezing air not only shocked me out of wanting a cigarette, but it helped ease my physical pain.
Whenever I felt like I deserved a “trophy”, especially after a dinner rush, instead of having a cigarette — I had a sip of root beer! And, to my surprise, it was very effective at keeping me grounded and positive.
I don’t plan on drinking soda at home (especially with how expensive it is), nor regularly again.
I can drink a glass and be done, not think about it. Nevertheless, I am being mindful to not use it as a drug.
I had to reset my porn timer again.
It’s really miserable.
But, I’m not going to let myself lose hope.
As I’m healing from my addiction to nicotine, I can also find healing from masturbating to porn.
Although I had to reset it, it’s still ticking away! And I just have today—so, for today, I’m porn-free.

[ICanAndWill]

I still love smoking too much.

On my way home from work, I was thinking about this nodule in my lung. If it shrinks or is non-cancerous, thank God! Stopping smoking was wise.
But what if it is cancerous?
I’m already under a mountain of medical debt. I don’t want to fight cancer only to survive to be under the burden of more medical debt.
So I thought fuck it, I’d just start smoking again. The worst is here and there’s nothing I can afford to do about it. Smoke and pray that the next stroke or heart attack takes me before the cancer does.
I don’t like that; I don’t like that I’m still thinking like that.

I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow. I don’t have money for gas…or even a bus ticket. I don’t know anyone’s phone number to ask for a ride.
God has always been good to me. I’m sure money will come from somewhere. I’m not stressed (too much) about it.

I can’t afford to get to work, or buy the basic necessities of life— and I am still thinking about smoking?!

I’m just overwhelmed and in pain.

This is why I’m on disability to begin with… I’m a State-certified nut.

So, I’m sure once I feel better I’ll have a more grounded approach to this. I might even reread this and cringe.

I pray everything is going well for everyone else.

[ICanAndWill]

I spent last night in so much pain. It was difficult maintaining sleep because of it.
I just read an article published by the NIH how nicotine cessation amplifies pain receptivity in daily smokers. It was a fabulous affirmation that what I’m feeling is real and measurable — and hopefully temporary.
I was tempted to smoke last night.
I would have done anything to get a cigarette.

But then I remembered that I like me better as a non-smoker, and that for every cigarette I don’t smoke I give Jesus a flower.

So, I couldn’t distract myself with chores or walking. It was difficult standing up to go to the bathroom. Into my mind I went…down the rabbit hole. What thought helped distract me?

Which Disney Princess would clean her own toilet?

My first thought was Tiana, because she’s humble and a hard worker. Then it was Moana, but then again, not much to clean when you’re in the ocean. I’d like to say Pocahontas, but she’s too flighty. Poor thing, she’d start to clean the toilet but would start chasing the colors of the wind. Cinderella obviously would. Ariel wouldn’t have to see Moana. Snow White was spoiled but didn’t shy away from chores. Sleeping Beauty wouldn’t.
Merida would…even though she’s technically not Disney.

Then I thought Ursula would. She’s technically a princess, and honestly a bad bitch. I like to think she’d scrub the toilet with magic, and why work harder?

Needless to say, it worked… I’m 42 days smoke-free.
And, symbolically, I should learn the meaning of life today!

[Pandita]

Well done you beating the cravings! What a great way to distract yourself from spiraling thoughts.

[ICanAndWill]

44 days smoke-free
4 days porn-free

Yesterday was odd.

I ate so much

I kept thinking, stop it, you’re not hungry, but I was compelled.

I wasn’t powerless, and I could have done a dozen other things instead. But, I did what I did and I am moving on…

I’m still in a lot of pain. I’m not sure if this is normal for quitting nicotine. Mostly because I’ve never worked the NRT program to completion. Sometimes my body hurts so badly I want to vomit.

In fact, my hips and back are starting to hurt again so I’m going to keep this brief.

I’m still on track, still safe, and still taking it one day at a time.

Hugs and kisses, but not really because I’m married and hate hugs.

[Olivia]

You have so many things on your plate now and you still decide not to smoke probably every hour. I get that you feel you’re struggling immensely but I’m going to give you credit for your tenacity. Were you able to get to work?

You most likely know this, but just wanted to say that “old habits die hard”. You’ve smoked for years and years as a coping mechanism and for comfort, so it will take time for that to change. The more you learn better ways and choose life over smoking, the easier it gets over time. People say that you need to “dig yourself out of a hole” but I see it slightly differently. I think you need to FILL the hole untill it becomes solid ground and you can’t fall back into it anymore. Sure, it’s just a metaphor and I’m not splitting hairs here.

Hang tight!