The few courageous and brave people who told me to quit smoking in the past. Are the people who I remember fondly now 7 years after I took my last cigarette. They are probably the ones I really appreciate the most. They were and some still are my best friends.
All the others who said nothing to me while I was poisoning myself and other people around me with secondhand smoking. They either didn’t care if I was a pitiful drug addict or they just didn’t care at all about me. Those people are forgotten in my oblivious memory.
Some of them saw it as a bad habit so they didn’t bother to say anything. Others saw it as my choice to smoke, like I wanted to smoke. Let me tell you something as a former smoker of cigs. No one wants to smoke; it’s a way to administrate a drug in your system, namely nicotine, and it has an iron grip on you!
Anyway, not to get sidetracked here, I really admire those people who were telling me to stop smoking. They were the ones who actually really care about me. Of course, back then, I wanted to rip their throats out because as I saw it, they were interfering with my life.
Help Smokers Quit…
Thoughts of anger and defensive attitude were in my head and it manifested clearly in my body posture. Who are you to tell me what to do? I am an adult, I know what I am doing. I like smoking, It’s my right to smoke and other idiotic rationalizations I would present as arguments. Not so much to convince other people or the persons telling me to quit but mostly myself, so I can keep smoking without having the ethical burden of knowing that I was basically committing a slow paced suicide.
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