19 th.October.

19 October
Good kip! Must have needed it.

20 hrs. Without cig,
inside I want to go to neighbours or go to shop but will try to resist, gonna be a long day.

Weather is grey. Damp and gloomy,

I decided not to go to shop because I know I’ll buy baccy,

I have little food in so cannot pig out to satisfy craving!
Probably a good day to complete course revision,
I.e. keep myself occupied till bedtime.

I know I will feel better for stopping but smoking has so much of a hold on me its hard to go through a day without some induction.
Perhaps I make too much out of it;

My Father is under the impression it’s the easiest thing in the world to give up;
"just stop" he says, "it’s as simple as that."

Maybe it is, if I can get into a frame of mind which elevates me above the craving and heightens the sense of well being,
I.e. if I am made to feel the better for not smoking then I would be able to simply stop.
What does it entail, cessation?

Stop in to avoid temptation of shops, for how long?

I will be able to go to my favourite supermarket for supplies because if my memory serves me right they do not sell tobacco products, so Netto is o.k.

I have no need for petrol so will not be tempted.
Going for a drink is out of the question for a few days.

So I’m destined to sit here,
drink copious amounts of tea and wait till the craving abates, simple as that.

I’ll be interested to see if the exercise levels go up,
Will I be able to step those extra steps without getting too much out of breath.
Will I feel any different?
Because that is the most important aspect to me,
If I can feel better then I’ll have the incentive to continue.
I’m on my second cup of tea and normally by now I’d of had three or four rollies to slake the early morning craving.

Three rollies was the accepted amount to placate the feeling in the pit of my stomach which I’m sure every smoker feels when he awakes.
Almost dutiful, the first rollie is the priority, to be rolled as kettle boils.
Inhalation of each mouthful of smoke having recognisable effect on ache in stomach,
Tea in hand, first cig finished, immediately roll second one, it follows path of first one,
acting on lessening cramp in pit of stomach.
Third rollie made up almost without thought,
by now I’d be relaxed and thinking of what else to do to pass away the day.
Second cup of tea and three roll ups, breakfast over!

If I decided to have a breakfast, be that toast or full English, then the rollie is the dessert, drawing ever more deeply depending on size of meal.
The next event would be the morning shit; if the body were able.
Sat on the porcelain, rollie in hand trying to squeeze out a log.
A deep inhalation follows a successful evacuation!

If the event has been somewhat taxing then another rollie soon follows as I return to the comfort of my chair to allow sphincter muscle time to relax.

The next few rollies are almost of no importance simply milestones along the path of time.
A car ride to the village would require a rollie to be made for time driving,
yet a walk to the village wouldn’t till I reached a suitable watering hole.
First pint and rollie, almost as “enjoyable” as first cuppa of day and smoke.
Fish and chips, bead and butter, pint and smoke,
Quite powerful combinations.

Sometimes cigars come in to the equation, partly because the pub hasn’t got a cigarette machine, not that I’d use it if it had one,
I’ve seldom paid full price for any tobacco for 20 years or more.

Have recently reverted to buying full price half-ounce packs from newsagents in an attempt to get myself annoyed at the true cost of my habit,
But no, the power of the first rollie of the day soon melts away any thoughts of cost.

I sit and my head is almost dizzy with a light headiness,
accompanied by stomach churning sensation.
My body is craving what it has come to expect over the last few decades,
the first rollie of the day has a lot of power.

In my mind there is a battle,

I know quite well that a rollie now would take my head off as it begins the line of several needed to quench my body’s need for Nicotine.
I draw on my artificial cigarette but to no avail, the lack of the drug and the smell of the smoke fail to impress.
The only way I will be successful is to play each hour out as it progresses,

Sleep would be my preferred way of passing time, but that would fail,
because I’d have to go through the same ritual when I eventually woke up.
It’s the battle of the craving upon waking that is the strongest,
Be that waking early morning or mid day that is when the craving is at its peak.

I need to feel a benefit of stopping to give me the help to continue.
I already know I’d rather have my clothes and hair smelling of whatever concoction than cigarette smoke.
I would rather have my front room smelling similarly.
My clothes would be free from burn holes;
though to be fair that was due mainly to the gear, “hot rocks”.

My chest has reached a noise level, which is causing me concern,
yet I know its no good seeking medical help unless I show willing by stopping.
Who knows my chest may improve, but some how I doubt it, the damage has been done.

Don’t give up trying to give up, that’s the only piece of advice I’ve followed.

I now feel very strongly the urge to go to the shops and buy the packet of weed.

I play with my artificial cigarette and place it between my lips,
drawing through the filters and getting nothing to appease my craving.
Fresh air, instead of a mixture of irritants and god knows what else.
I’ve been trying to quit for a number of months now,
Tried different brands of tobacco, even tried to sicken myself off the idea of smoking by using tobaccos which were alien to my taste, toasted tobacco in particular,

My dislike of the tobacco was enough to allow me to dispose of it down the toilet,
that was the first inroad into my stopping.
I had reduced the value of the tobacco to that of an irritant, which I could throw down the pan.

Several times I emptied the contents of ashtrays down the toilet to take away the possibility of re- rolling the tab ends when I awoke the next morning,
because the craving is at its highest when the eyes are first opened.

Three day hump.

Someone said if you can get over the first three days then you are on your way.
I’m concentrating on the first 24 hours.
I sit, placebo in mouth, knowing full well there is nothing to make up a rollie in the flat,
perhaps there may be some tab ends in the waste bin but I have smoked everything to the tip lately so there would be little chance to get the makings.
Whatever baccy I’ve had lately I smoked at least twice,
re- rolling tab ends to get every strand, wasting nothing, leaving nothing to be re useable.

I pause and my thoughts centre on the fact that my tobacco supplier will be out of town till tomorrow,
If I’d wanted to buy at half the shop price, but there again the price is no longer important to me.
Sure if I was smoking all the time I’d want to be able to buy at the reduced rate offered by the smugglers.
But when I’m sat without any baccy and the craving for the first rollie of the day is prominent in my thought then the shop price of half an ounce is acceptable.
MY only purchase today would be half an ounce and I’d be satisfied for two days.

But no, today I get out of bed and decide not to smoke for 24 hours at least and if possible to try for a little longer.
So far its been 22 hrs.
I decided to replenish cuppa and try out a little exercise.

Once again I’ve failed, I went to shop and bought another half ounce and a bottle of bitter lemon and some menthol filter tips.
I now sit relaxed listening to meditation sounds and drinking gin and bitter lemon.

I enjoy a couple of short drinks rather than going to the pub and drinking overpriced gassy lager or similar and the smoke is part of that enjoyment.
For £4.00 I’m contented with my lot.
I have decided to try some voluntary work and rang up the co-ordinator for the refugee befriendment association, unfortunately the person was away at a meeting so I have another day to think it over.

I feel guilty at buying yet more tobacco
but am still resolved to stop some time this month-hopefully.

My exercise is continuing and hopefully tomorrow I’ll be in a better frame of mind to resolve my situation.
I just need the sign that things will eventually gel together and I’ll be able to…

Get fitter,
do without the smokes and find something worthwhile to occupy some of my time.

I didn’t realise the effectiveness of the machine I purchased,
It does as advertised exercise different groups of muscles and soon,
possibly within a couple of weeks I should be able to expand the range of these groups to include upper body exercise, in the meantime I’m trying to build up my leg muscles and increase the time spent on the machine.
It’s not often I make a wise choice when purchasing what to me is expensive equipment but this time I think I’ve made a wise choice.
I paid the thick end of £700 for a p.c. to enable me to sit a £350 course but I’ve got a lot more out of the p.c.
It has allowed me to sit and write about my bad experiences in as much as I wrote hundreds of pages of written work with the thought to transfer at some time, probably during the winter months to transfer to disc for future reference.

I have spent countless hours thinking of my episode,
its causes and repercussions.

I now realise I may need medication for the rest of my life and I now accept the fact that if I don’t want to go through the anguish of being sectioned again I must adhere to the program.

I did quite a bit of research yesterday into the problem and saw many of the symptoms explained which I’d encountered.
I also know that if I’d been really truthful with my trick cyclist then the full extent of my episode would have been revealed!
I was skating on thin ice for a long time before the extent of my illness was brought to light.
I myself know that because I’d shut myself off from outsiders for nearly 20 years then my condition had been hidden, known only to Nan (my companion) and myself.

It was probably only the dependence upon Cannabis of us both that stopped us from realising my life was, to put it mildly not usual.
MY life style has never been mainstream and most people couldn’t have coped with the degree of self-isolation, which I accepted,

Nay preferred.

Isolation allowed me to pursue projects and ideas without too much outside intervention.
I now feel almost ready to once again become a part,
Albeit a small part of society as a whole.
I would like to work with people who have gone through a similar experience I.e. been sectioned but am at present unsure of how to volunteer for such work.
Or in fact if such opportunities exist.

I saw a lot of nurses and doctors but no one who was there just to listen and advise,
I suppose I could travel to Middlesboro a couple of times a week and spend time with some of the patients but would my efforts be welcome?
After all if I’m destined to be a lifetime medication dependent am I suitable to give advice?
The idea of befriending refugees is part of the way.
I see myself as being able to help people who otherwise wouldn’t be able to turn to anyone for friendship or assistance.

Inside myself I feel I have enough experience of life in general and several aspects in particular which would allow me insight into others problems.
But first and foremost I must get myself on the road to normality,
look after my own health and regain the self confidence to interact fully with others.

When I was younger I thought I could possibly have a future in teaching but when I saw the disrespect that teachers were getting I turned against that avenue.
I am mixed up in as much as I have several thoughts of ways of becoming, in my eyes useful to society as a whole without losing my individualism.
I am a loner and until I meet someone suitable who will change me I will continue to rely on what I know to survive.
If I dwell upon my own personal uncertain future I will no doubt become depressed and possibly go through another episode,

I need to live for the present and hope the future will be kind.

I’m not afraid of dying and no longer have nightmares about being paralysed from the waist; from the neck I have plans for, and will deal with that if and when it arrives.
I don’t intend to sit back and wait.

I have coped with my illness for a number of years now and know my present restrictions,
yet there is a great amount of potential, which hasn’t even been touched,
I’m sure the next few years will bring out a new personality.

I had set myself the age of 50 to be the time to ring in the changes and am determined to set myself a course for the future.
I intend to enter a relationship for the right reasons if I meet the right woman.
I’ve spent too long searching for either someone to care for me or someone who simply wanted a brief fling I’m almost ready to become someone’s partner.

As recently as a couple of years ago I could have listed numerous interests but now I have a blank page and am running out of time to fill in the details.
I’ll always have the experience of the last 50 years to go on but now need to open up my mind to a new way of living.
I’ve been a selfish bastard for a long time,
Mainly out of necessity,

I couldn’t allow too many people into my life because of my lifestyle,

which if fully known would have been criticised,
I’ve failed at trying to pretend to live like others and was bitterly disappointed with the normal work regime.
I’d get more satisfaction out of doing a job, with little or no assistance than working as a team,
I craved satisfaction from challenges which anyone who knew about my condition would have deemed impossible.

To turn a wilderness into an allotment or garden which turned people’s heads was satisfaction,

to paint a huge house from a ladder,
to build a radio station, a p.c. based home entertainment centre,
to keep an old decrepit car on the road, to keep an old woman young at heart,
to instil self- respect into a youth who couldn’t read or write,
to help someone alienated by the system,
to give advice and to listen to others in need of friendship from a stranger.

I was fortunate to escape the system that I found myself in when admitted to grammar school,
True my parents had huge expectations for me but they allowed me the chance to be myself when everyone else was on the conveyor belt to being a prodigy of their parent’s occupation or aspirations.

I lived a life, which brought me into contact with what society deemed the lowest, and some of the self-opinionated highest.
I’ve locked horns with the police and social system fought street fights and red tape,
been partially successful with both.

Hopefully I’ve helped more than I’ve hurt.

This year, which is rapidly reaching its climax,
is the year I planned to be the year I sort out my life.
I intend to remake my bed but this time be contented with my lot.
I have been on my own physically now for a year, so have no one to blame for my circumstances,
I now have the chance to do whatever I want,
Just need the confidence to pursue it.
I have no friends to criticise;
My parents even though they do not understand me still give me leeway and try to accommodate some of my more radical moods.
I have no aspirations for success or for riches just contentment in myself.

To rely on one’s own company requires a state of mind,
which is fuelled by the occasional success and belief in ones self-ability.

To keep one’s sanity when living in a world which often doesn’t make sense is a hard task.

In the past I’ve been hurt emotionally and physically been robbed and cheated,
exploited and cast aside,
My ambition has been seen by others to be a danger to them and I’ve overcome many obstacles to get what I perceived to be what I wanted.

Yet I’ve seldom attained the level of self-contentment, which I’ve needed.

I no longer need pieces of paper to prove my worth or even the blessing of a partner,
l am my own keeper.
I am on medication, which if given to me years ago may have changed my whole personality.
I can no longer get drunk or stoned am unable to ride the seesaw of emotions,
The drugs are acting upon my pleasure centres and in doing so block my ability to pursue the normal outreaches, which others use.

My pleasure has to come from other sources and that is why I’m thinking of helping others;
to gain some thing mentally, which I cannot get physically.
Alcohol no longer works,
Cannabis has been for a long time now unable to relax me fully,
sex has slipped a long way down the list not because it doesn’t give me pleasure but because most of the partners I’ve had have never fully explored the full potential of the sexual act.
Perhaps I’m seeking something along the lines of spiritual fulfilment, I don’t know.
My typing is becoming erratic so time to close.