Smoking Is Not Cool

By David McDaniel | VOX Staff

I was only 13 years old when I picked up my first cigarette. I guess I thought it looked cool. All my friends smoked, and I was willing to do anything to fit in.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was up the street at my friend Tiffany’s house. A group of us teenagers were playing cards, and then Tiffany said something that sounded a little crazy to me: “Did you guys know that a cigarette could boost your high after you smoke weed?” I had never smoked a cigarette before, let alone weed. Just as I started to say no, I looked and saw everyone passing around blunts. Tiffany looked over at me as if she expected me to join in.

“Do you want to hit the blunt David?” she asked. I really didn’t, but I took it from her to save face. When I took the first hit I felt dizzy as hell. I was light-headed and could barely stand. As I started smoking the blunt, my body felt like it was shutting down on me. Every breath I took felt like it was going to be my last. It really wasn’t a good feeling. And then the worst thing happened — Tiffany passed me a cigarette. I was already high and f***ed up, and once I hit the cigarette it was over. I’ve been hooked on smoking — cigarettes, not marijuana — ever since.

I thought smoking would be just a one-time thing to look cool and be social with my friends. I never thought that six years later I would have spent more than $20,000 on cigarettes and would call smoking a form of medication. I have a lot of stress in my life, and cigarettes seem to be the only thing that lets me calm down. But the problem is that I know this “medication” is actually damaging my health. And I hate the fact that my life revolves around those little cancer sticks.

Negative Influences
Part of the reason why I kept on smoking cigarettes is because almost my entire family smoked. People told me it was wrong, but they really didn’t do anything about it. And I wondered how wrong smoking could be when they all kept on smoking despite their warnings.

I’d borrow cigarettes from family members and friends, had people buy them for me, and eventually I was buying them for myself, even though I was underage. It’s really not that difficult once you find a place that will sell them to you without asking for ID, but getting a fake ID is pretty easy, too. Because I was around so many smokers and had easy access to cigarettes, in a few years I went from smoking just a couple a day to multiple packs.

Cigarettes were expensive, but I always found a way to afford them. Sometimes I’d tear the house down looking for loose change just so I could get my fix. When I couldn’t come up with the money, I’d even beg for them so I wouldn’t go crazy from short-term withdrawal. The days I didn’t have cigarettes, I’d be a basket case.

My grandmother smoked cigarettes for more than 30 years, and though she didn’t die of lung cancer, the doctors told her that all that smoking wore out her organs and made her less able to bounce back from illness. At that time, I was in denial about my addiction, and I should have learned from her mistake. It should have been my big wake-up call, but I hit the snooze button. Being so upset about her death, I turned to cigarettes even more as a way to deal with losing her.

I’ve told people in the past that if a cigarette was a person, we would be best friends for life. Some friend. My habit would cause me to go to school smelling like an ashtray. I didn’t realize that people wouldn’t hang around me just because I smoked — and not just because I reeked of cigarettes. Even my friends’ parents saw me as a bad influence because of my addiction. Only bad guys are supposed to smoke.

Staring Into the Mirror
Outside of cigarettes, all I really cared about was fitting in with a crowd, even though it was the wrong crowd. We all smoked. So it was funny when my friends were the ones who noticed how cigarettes were affecting me. I remember one time they came up to me and said, “Dang, David, all the smoking has made you look like you’re 25 years old.”

My first reaction to this statement was: Wow, if people believe this I won’t have to show ID when I go buy cigarettes anymore. But a few months later I was standing at the bathroom sink washing my face when I looked into the mirror and realized I did look old. I was 17 but I could pass for 30. I had wrinkles and my skin seemed to shed. I looked like I was on drugs — and I was, though I didn’t think of cigarettes like that at the time.

I also felt older. I would have to catch my breath after I ran even the shortest distance — and when I was a kid I was a good runner. I avoided most physical exercise and I also got tired more quickly.

Smoking even had a huge impact on my education. I was failing a few of my classes in school because I would skip classes and go chill with my friends off campus just to smoke cigarettes. One day a teacher confronted me about it during class:

“David, do you smoke cigarettes?” she asked when I walked in the room.

“Yes, why do you ask?” I said.

“Because I smell smoke on you,” she said.

I was pissed off at the b**ch because she asked me a tough question and embarrassed me in front of the whole class. As I look back, I see she really did have my best interest at heart. I wished I would have listened to her, but again I made a huge mistake to continue smoking.

Trying to Quit
Over the years, there were many times I wanted to quit smoking and made up my mind that I was going to beat my addiction. I tried nicotine gum, patches and even spent my money on something else so I couldn’t afford cigarettes. I thought quitting would be easy.

I didn’t know that I would have to meet the cures half way. I thought if I just took them they would work on their own. I didn’t know that I had to dig in and use my will power to beat it. In fact, it seemed like all the tactics I tried made me smoke even more. I wanted to change my life and do better in school, but smoking and goofing off were just a lot easier and more convenient.

Eventually, I just gave up trying. I decided that if it was God’s will to make me sick or die, then so be it. My junior year of high school I started smoking more than ever. I could do three packs in a day with no problem. Hell, there would be times I would even smoke myself to sleep — which is dangerous for a completely different reason.

It seemed like all my money went toward cigarettes, and also all my pride. I was hurt because I felt helpless, and I was usually the one in my family who wouldn’t give up a fight so easily. The only thing I could do was make myself a walking billboard for the reasons why you shouldn’t smoke. I’d tell younger kids in my neighborhood to never pick up a cigarette, but I knew they just saw me as a hypocrite and probably ignored my warnings.

Today, I go back and forth between wanting to quit and saying f*** it. I try going cold turkey — just giving up cigarettes completely — and it always fails. Without my cigarette fix, I get cranky and I get into arguments with people just to keep my mind off my need to smoke. Sometimes I sit in my den, rocking back and forth nervously because I don’t have any cigarettes and I don’t have any money to buy them and I don’t know when I’d be able to smoke next.

But there always has been a next time, and I still don’t know how I’d live without cigarettes. Trying to quit on my own hasn’t worked, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to get somebody else to help me. So, I keep on smoking and beating myself up for it, hoping that one day I’ll be able to walk away from cigarettes without them having destroyed my life.

David has been a teen staff writer with VOX for five years.