It’s been twenty-five years or so that I have been smoking cigarettes. I actually started the habit quite late, in that unlike most people who start smoking as teenagers, I was twenty or so when I took my first one. At that time I was working full time and at the same time attending university at nighttime. Most evenings I didn’t get home until after 11pm and because I needed to relax before going to bed I started taking a cigarette from my sisters, who both smoked then. Sometimes we would all smoke in the bedroom before going off to sleep.
I distinctly remember my first cigarette – I recall being dizzy and disorientated as I climbed the stairs to go to bed. But also, I remember, enjoying my time with my sisters, as there hadn’t been much of that in the years preceding that.
And then it just went on from there. I had an hour and a half in between finishing work and going to lectures at TCD (Trinity College Dublin) with less than a ten minute walk in between so there was a lot of time to fill. I’d have my dinner and then have a coffee at TCD and watch the full time students’ debate, argue – whatever full time students do. I was jealous and I didn’t really belong. So it seems I started to have a cigarette or two there to fill the void.
And bit by bit, cigarettes began to appear anytime I wasn’t working – morning and afternoon tea breaks, out for a drink. Then I started smoking during work at my desk… I don’t even remember when cigarettes became part of my morning routine. That was probably the biggest nail in my coffin and I don’t even remember it. And of course, it didn’t stop at one cigarette in the morning – it turned into many and more and more…