4 th.January.

04/01/2007
Had a good sleep, breathing quieter and easier, but as soon as got up went to shop for baccy!
HAVE ONLY SURVIVED 36 HRS.
Am annoyed but not too despondent, will do it eventually, just got to wait till the time feels right; like it did on Tues night.
Sky is blue with fast moving broken cloud, little sunshine left and must be mild because haven’t needed to put the fire on yet, probably have to when the sun disappears.
Did feel better for the smoking break and that is the feeling I have to remember if any future attempts are going to be more successful.
I felt well when I awoke this morning and was chuffed at the state of my chest and throat.
I don’t know what to do today, should have been washed and shaved and down the village but not now.

Seems crazy that a packet of baccy can have so much control over my life, and that I can have so little control over buying same.

I check my lottery tickets; usual one number matched.
Pour myself a lager, perhaps I’ll just drink and return to bed, after all that’s the only way I can control smoking, sleep the hours away.
Yesterday there was none or very little effort on my part;
I simply had no baccy and resisted the urge to go to the shop. I’m glad I didn’t seek out the two-ounce supplier.
At least with buying half an ounce I get the opportunity to quit more often.
I fill up my glass and the lager froths over the top onto the front of my jumper; giving me the chance to remove signs of last night’s supper of beans on toast.
I’ve eaten very little this week and feel my stomach may be shrinking accordingly.
I no longer feel bloated probably will after a couple of more drinks but not bloated with food.
Previously my gut was sticking out very nearly over the keyboard, it is now returning to an acceptable size and will soon, I hope, be returning to what I want which is a comfortable 36 inch waist.
I read somewhere that no one’s waist should be in excess of 36 and having had the same waist measurement for 20 odd years I was dismayed to feel it extending to 38 plus; especially after I had recntly thrown out all my jeans which were in my opinion too large for me.
I had been saving up a number of pairs for a friend of mine and if I’d kept them, I would have had something to wear when my weight increased.
But if I’d accepted the weight gain and simply worn the larger clothes would the incentive to lose weight been as strong?
I am determined to return to an acceptable weight and return to wearing 36 jeans,
I know I can manage to do that because I can miss meals, in as much as I will eat when hungry and miss out the snacks in between.
Just wish I were as confident with the smoking.
I light up my third rollie which is usually enough to satisfy the Nicotine levels yet do not feel the usual satisfaction level as craving subsides because the craving wasn’t present today.
Today would ideally have been; get up, have a couple of joints and return to bed to listen to sounds for a couple of hours but the lust for dope has decreased and I no longer am willing to get ripped off, paying top price for rubbish.
I was pleased with the amount of money I’ve managed to save since July but when I consider I spent £75 on dope prior to Xmas I realise how much has been eaten away in the past by smoking gear.
Perhaps the craving for dope is still there and smoking baccy is the nearest alternative?
I know not.
I should be returning to study but knowing I was in an idle mood when I was woken up by the dustbin men and realised I had no intention of leaving bed to put out bin,
I knew today wasn’t going to be a day to restart study.
I breathe in and out deeply making the most of being able to.
Drinking lager will blow me up and if I drink enough will lead me to throw up, which will clear out my throat in the process, usually leaving me feeling better, may go for it.
If smoking and drinking are to be seen as pleasures or treats then perhaps I could change my attitude towards trying to make a pouch last as long as possible and simply enjoy them on a basis of two days per week.
Smoke and drink as much as I want to then leave alone for as long as able.
I put the fire on and warm the room up; I may as well be comfortable.
Years ago I could drink a bottle of spirits and several pints each day. Every day. I’d drink brown ale till I reached a point where I considered myself to have drunk myself sober then start again,
which is when I used to reach the point of being unstable. I could be as nice as pie or violent to anyone who upset me.
Alcohol ruled my life then and opening hours and supply of alcohol at home governed my days.
I lived with an alcoholic and her friends were of the same vein.
15 years ago I was drinking three bottles of spirits a week, drinking and driving and holding down a job and going to college.
It was probably around that time that I became disillusioned with alcohol and returned to the dope.
When smoking dope I had no need for any alcohol because I knew too well the see saw effect of taking both.
These last five years has seen me increases my dope intake to a previously unknown level.
A lot of the people I came to know through smoking gange were different in as much as they still used alcohol and got drunk as they could each day.

I preferred to buy my gear and return home to enjoy the stone.

But my usual dealer was lost and I was thrown upon the mercy of new dealers who came up with so many substandard deals as to succeed in pissing me off.
For a while last year I tried to get a hit from drinking spirits but was disappointed; very seldom would a session produce an enjoyable climax and I’d be left wondering why I’d spent good money on a waste of time.
So legally I was unable to receive a buzz from drinking.
Illegally the gear was substandard and thus disappointing.
At least I have had the sense to realise the shortcomings of booze and dope;
I say as I sit drinking canned lager.
All that is left for me to do is realise how useless smoking is and I will be cured of what I consider to be a social disease.
The government has finally realised that putting up the price of smokes will stop no one, especially when the smugglers are doing such a successful business of supplying every pub in the country with cheap alternatives.
Perhaps it’s with age that I’m getting bored with the alternatives available.
I no longer feel the need to socialise every day and drink with people I would surely normally avoid.
The advice of a dealer can no longer be taken as more and more back street dealers set them selves up in an attempt to generate a second income.
The big dealers who live in the expensive homes are financing their lifestyle and looking down on the poor bastards they have got hooked on class A drugs.
Young girls on heroin are seen and talked about as being £10/20 hookers who will seemingly gladly offer sex to pay for the next wrap.
The latest killing spree has proven that, victims with one thing in common they worked to feed a habit. They are present at all levels; everyone knows the local bike, who will offer sex for alcohol or drugs, sometimes in return for basics such as food or clothes!

Class A drugs are getting easier to score than cannabis and in this past year of living among heroin users I have been tempted a couple of times but luckily have had enough sense to resist.
I pick up my wallet and go the nearest dealers, no answer.
Return home and have a very strenuous and painful shit.
I pour myself a lemonade top lager in an attempt to get away from the sickly taste.
I take a drink and cough and sneeze. Feeling the mucus bubble at the back of my throat as I do so. I blow my nose, wipe my eyes and settle myself down.
I’m well on my way to make myself vomit from excess of drink and smoke.
When I’m trying to give something up I often over indulge to bring on vomiting; after which I feel much better.
I sit quietly, swallowing trying to remember how good I felt this morning, my chest and throat feeling better.
I now have thick mucus in the back of my throat and my nose feels blocked.
I am thankful for the Xmas presents of handkerchiefs.
Wish, momentarily I hadn’t left the Whisky behind at my parent’s house!
Acid from stomach begins to taste and I drink to get rid of it.
I blow my nose and settle myself down; not easy drinking when you know you are simply making oneself ready to be sick.
I breathe deeply and remember I haven’t taken any tablets at all today, decided to wait till I’ve been bad.
Throwing up on cue is a trick I learnt years ago as a means of getting rid of excess and continuing a session.
Over the years the stomach has imposed its own limits and I now know that four pints will be sufficient volume to allow me to chuck at will.
I peel a strip of protein from my left eye, cough dryly and belch four times to release the gas from the lager.
The drink is having little or no effect upon me except for filling up my stomach and putting it under pressure.
I am unable to get anything from my usual crutches, no effect whatsoever; why do I continue?
To prove to myself without a doubt that it is a waste of time and money.

I remember the times when a few home grown joints, good sounds and a willing partner in bed would have been sufficient to pass the time away.
I now sit and contemplate life passing by without drink and smoke.
Smoking has no discernable effect; it just passes the time between doing other things.
It’s something to do to pass the time, as Tam would say, and as such it becomes the habit, the norm that becomes accepted as part of everyday life.
I no longer want it to be part of mine yet am unsure as to what to replace it with.
I hate being sat in my room full of stale smoke, why clean a place up then fill it with foul smelling stale smoke?
I drink from my glass and belch, the taste of the lager is getting unacceptable, a couple more and I’ll be puking.
Acid rises up from my stomach and makes me swallow it.
How can people daily subject their body to such extremes?
People who regularly drink a gallon must feel like a bag of water is in their stomachs,
I know I now hate the feeling of being bloated.
True my waterworks are akin to those of a camel and I very seldom have to go to the toilet when on a session.
I drain my glass, belch and wonder when, if ever the alcohol will have an effect.
My stomach retches a few times and acid travels up and down causing me to cough to clear my throat.
Pity I couldn’t have stayed in bed today and prolonged my non-smoking period!

Have pity on a person who is unable to get drunk or stoned and has a Nicotine habit of some thirty years standing!

My life has to change and soon. Possibly from today, who knows?
Perhaps today will be a self-imposed lesson; drink and drugs are no longer any good to me; perhaps I’ve used them for so long that they are ineffective.
I look at the regulars in the clubs and pubs and cannot work out how they can become intoxicated when I can drink the same and remain unaffected.
How come I can smoke £25 worth of gear in an afternoon and experience no high?
What are the alternatives to relaxing with drugs or alcohol?
I’m rapidly running out.
I sit and belch several times; perfectly acceptable when on one’s own but frowned upon when in drinking company.
Drinking is a way of lowering one’s inhibitions in company, makes one friendly and chatty in the right circumstances.
So drinking alone has no such effect and is often seen to be a problem by others who use the pubs and clubs.
I pause for a piss;
I amuse myself by removing traces of the earlier pebble dashing from the porcelain, patting my stomach as I return to see if it has decreased.
I roll one up light it and belch repeatedly, acid causing saliva to swill around my mouth before being swallowed; I notice it’s not burning yet!
When it does, will be time to empty contents.
I pour another drink, opting for an almost lager shandy this time;
I think of my Father and his ability to be content with a couple of shandies and a coke to see him through a session,
Perhaps that’s the answer.
I could go out, use the car and be legal, possibly meet interesting people;
most, I presume will be drunk.
Could I become a soft drinks drinker?
Could I sit through a bands’ gig without a drink or smoke?
My life will have to change, I can no longer socialise as a drinker.
A person I knew told me I was an o.k. Guy who was great when stoned,
I no longer get stoned and have therefore got to try to find people of the same ilk.
My stomach bounces as I belch quietly, acid fills my mouth with its taste and I swallow hurriedly to get rid of it.
I think back over the last 12 months and remember the different concoctions I have tried to get me drunk.
Only successful applicant being, cheap, stomach churning, over strength cider.
Today will be the day that I realise that alcohol holds very little for me in the way of enjoyment.
If I can convince myself that smoking baccy is also futile then today will not have been a waste of time and effort.
Many people will be trying to give up smoking and drinking, especially this week and my sympathy goes out to all.
My method is to give the body all and more than it can take and then realise the foolishness of doing same.
A sneeze creeps up on me and explodes and I feel the need to urinate again.
I skin up and drink half a pint before venturing to the toilet.
I was tempted to use the two fingers down the throat but decided to wait till the stomach rebels and calls time.
If I’d sat in my parents over Xmas and drunk this many cans during the afternoon, my dad would probably have thought he’d supplied me well enough and thought I was enjoying myself.
I’m drinking for a purpose and that is to throw up and clear out my throat in an attempt to feel better.
I had hopes of giving up smoking and fears that I may rebel against drinking; maybe time is approaching for both.
One hour left before TV viewing takes over.

What is this life if full of care, no inclination to go anywhere?

I cannot blame the strength of the ale; I’ve tried ale and spirits and have got the same result. Zero effect.
I conclude drinking is no longer an option for me, it doesn’t relax me without having side effects such as acid and wind, and in short it’s a waste of good money.
Soft drinks and the paying for same will be hard for me to stomach but at least I’ll be relaxed in knowing that my actions will not be considered illegal when driving.
Will be bound to turn a few heads!
Especially people who knew me of old, but who cares?
I decided to restrict drinking to when I’m home and hopefully not always alone; so a bottle should last quite a long time!
I will drink non-alcoholic drinks and get out and about more in the car.
Hopefully the lack of alcohol will allow the urge to smoke whilst drinking to subside.
There we have it, a day wasted trying to get drunk has made me make up my mind to leave it alone for a while.

True my resolutions may not have been New Year but I’ve taken the time to think about them and even experimented in one last attempt to gain gratification from old habits before ditching them.
Smoking is fucking up my lungs and throat as well as God only knows what else with my heart etc.
Drinking is costing money and not supplying any effect.
Dope is poor quality and full of bulking rubbish.
Only sex left and that leaves me disappointed most of the time!
What is left in life, as I knew it?

Wish I’d stopped in bed today!

When I eventually get round to reading what I’ve written today I will be surprised at how I’ve filled in the afternoon hours with thoughts on cessation of lifelong habits.
My stomach feels empty despite being full of gassy lager, I am belching repeatedly and feel soon the stomach will rebel.
I have less than half an hour to overfill gut, empty it and feel better.
I empty glass, recharge and shudder and belch as I take first drink.
I find another can still half full which puts me under pressure to drink a can and a half quickly, surely enough to anger stomach.

Everyone knows the point one reaches when the amount of beer left is too much to be enjoyed and the fear of puking is in the back of the mind. I must be nearing that now.
I take a couple of mouthfuls and my head shakes lightly from side to side, silent signal that the now unpleasant taste is not welcome.
I roll a cig and draw deeply, my stomach subsides but feels full, my bladder fills;
I’m almost ready.
Each mouthful tastes worse than the last and I think about helping my stomach out with the fingers.
I belch a couple of times and decide to finish the fag then go to the toilet.
In the old days. Some twenty years ago, I’d make myself a drink of salt and water to help me but these days the salt isn’t needed, the taste of the stale alcohol and tobacco is enough.
I try to drain the glass but can only take a couple of small drinks.
I’m ready. My stomach is swollen, sphincter and bladder on alert.
I take a couple of more draws before finishing the fag and decide to have a piss before trying to throw up.
I parcel up the baccy pouch and throw it into the corner of the room.
Surprisingly quick piss, considering the amount drunk, ran fingers under the tap then into the back of the throat for a couple of times till stomach muscles took over and contents of stomach regurgitated.
Return to seat feeling much better,
I got baccy back and rolled one up and am feeling fine.
So in all; quite a waste of an afternoon’s drinking.
But I feel better and that is what is important;
Obviously trying to get drunk is a waste of time and money and being proven as such, will not feature highly in my future, I hope.
Looked at baccy and decided to finish it. Rolled last four up.
Had big meal which had been in fridge since Monday, enjoyed it, full Sunday dinner.
Watched films till 3 a.m. by which time only tab ends remained.
Went to bed and took absolute ages before breathing quietened down enough to allow me to sleep.
I may have quickly forgotten how much better I’d felt when I woke up but was amply reminded of what excessive smoking does, I sounded terrible. Must have been nearly 5 before got to sleep.