Bad Habits
One month with no cigarettes (drunken ones don't count) and here I sit on my porch, enjoying the psuedo-spring weather, happily puffing away. What is it about bad habits that make them so addictive and endearing? Cigarettes are like old lovers in that way. Early on, the experience of being with them is so amazing that you can't walk away. Every second that you're not with them, that's the only thing on your mind. Five minutes of action dominates 23 hours and 55 minutes of compulsive thoughts. Over time, the intense need eases. But it's still there. In the back of your mind, with thoughts of cherry pie and other vices. A one-time thrill now becomes part of the everyday. Integrated into the routine of life so much that it becomes as consistently expected as air.
One day, seemingly out of nowhere, the pleasure level isn't as high. The thrill is gone, baby. Out of habit, you continue to engage in the same behavior. Eventually, the disappointment wears you down, wears you out. Sometimes ceremoniously, but more often without fanfare, you cast your vice aside and allow the memory to fade into obscurity.
No matter how long it's been since you last indulged, when presented with your former bad habits, nostalgia surrounds you. You can remember every feeling of joy associated with it. Every moment of misery eased by it flows back too. Suddenly, it's more desirable than ever. There is uncommon intimacy in our bad habits, as they've seen us at our best and through our worst.
Indulging isn't the same once you've quit. Your likely hasn't changed, and maybe you haven't either, but your relationship to it has. It's like trying to wear your shoes from 8th grade--they don't fit quite right anymore in style or size. Still, the memory of intimacy calls you back. It's almost as good as it once was, and in the same way, almost as bad as it once was. But it's never the same.
One day, seemingly out of nowhere, the pleasure level isn't as high. The thrill is gone, baby. Out of habit, you continue to engage in the same behavior. Eventually, the disappointment wears you down, wears you out. Sometimes ceremoniously, but more often without fanfare, you cast your vice aside and allow the memory to fade into obscurity.
No matter how long it's been since you last indulged, when presented with your former bad habits, nostalgia surrounds you. You can remember every feeling of joy associated with it. Every moment of misery eased by it flows back too. Suddenly, it's more desirable than ever. There is uncommon intimacy in our bad habits, as they've seen us at our best and through our worst.
Indulging isn't the same once you've quit. Your likely hasn't changed, and maybe you haven't either, but your relationship to it has. It's like trying to wear your shoes from 8th grade--they don't fit quite right anymore in style or size. Still, the memory of intimacy calls you back. It's almost as good as it once was, and in the same way, almost as bad as it once was. But it's never the same.
posted by The Husskateer at 5:34 PM
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