Closet Fascination

A blog about a journey, smoking, not smoking, vaping and everything in between



The Need to Confess… Part Two

I’ve been trying to work out how to confess to my significant other that I not only have spent the past week smoking, behind his and everyone elses back but that I have absolutely no desire to stop. I’m forcing myself to stop smoking until I tell him. Why? Because this is the only thing I can think of that will give me sufficient motivation to tell him. I almost told him last night. The conversation was not quite serious enough though  and all I got out was that I really like inhaling smoke. I got him to agree to go to a hookah bar with me and it scared me a little that he was even resistant to that. Despite all of the smoking bans, hookah bars are still allowed to have smoking for cultural reasons as long as the shisha is tobacco free. I think this is funny seeing as it is still smoking and undoubtedly just as bad for you, just not addictive. Plus- for the most part I do not think you inhale the smoke… I’ve gone off on a tangent.

Anyhow- now that I am no longer permitting myself to smoke, I want to that much more. The forbidden fruit factor I guess. I mean it was still forbidden when I was doing it, only now it is more forbidden since I am no longer permitting myself to do it. I’m not sure that makes any sense. The past seven days are the longest stretch of continuous smoking I have ever done. Sure I missed two days, but I almost smoked every day last week. It was the first time I actually felt like a smoker. It was the first time that even in my mind I identified myself as such.  As odd as it might sound, I even liked the way it made me smell- a smell I previously detested on others. My last cigarette I even postponed washing my hand for as long as I could because I liked occasionally smelling it. Last night, thinking about never doing it again made me really sad. I think that if (or should I say…when?) I give myself permission to indulge at will, I still I have little desire to become a heavy smoker. I enjoy my active lifestyle and will continue to do all the things I did before. This of course will not happen until I tell my boyfriend and I still feel that he is the only one who needs to know about my smoking.

How do I bring this up? Do I take my pack out of my hiding spot in my truck and show him? How do I tell him that although I am a perfectly intelligent, normally rational personal, I have this one desire that is not based in reason? I consider myself to be a perfectly intelligent human being.  How do I explain to him that in my mind, the benefits outweigh the risks when he only see it as being self-destructive? I mean it took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I have this desire to something that I know is bad for me and that part of the reason I enjoy doing it so much is because it is bad for me. The other side of why I want to do it has to with my sexuality and how smoking has somehow, even without me actively doing it has become intrinsically tied to my sexual being. I was reading my earlier blog posts and never when I started this blog in November would I have thought that this is where my journey would take me. I feel so much less repressed now and I feel like “coming out” or coming completely clean about my desire and intent to smoke to my boyfriend is the last step. I think the reason why I am so hesitant is because I am scared it will destroy the relationship. Maybe it will be destroyed because I have not been completely honest. Almost more scary for me- I’m scared he will reject me because of it and I think that it is such a big deal because of what it means to me. Smoking is not just smoking for me. It is not about the nicotine, although I do enjoy the effects. I can tell there is no physical draw for me yet, at least not from nicotine. If it was about the nicotine, I could go out and buy myself some gum or lozenges or even smokeless tobacco. Starting smoking for me is probably as big of a deal for me as quitting smoking is to people.

As crazy as it may sound, I think that my desire to smoke and by extension any smoking I do are part of who I am. And I guess I am scared of having this side of my personality revealed and potentially rejected. Although I have been hiding the fetish from my significant other for almost four years now, it is only in the past six months that I have really come to terms with actually having the fetish and what that means.

I’m still not sure how I am going to tell him, I only know that must tell him because of what smoking means to me. I feel like everytime I smoke, it is like I am cheating on him with my other lover since in many ways, smoking is my other lover. I really do not want to have to pick between the two which I think is why I am so hesitant to talk to him about it. But I cannot keep sneaking around like this. The guilt of that will kill me quicker than any of the poisons I willfully inhale.


A good one and a bad one…

I guess I got a bit carried away on my first cigarette after my few weeks of abstaining and made myself sick. What is awful is I can’t even tell I have gone too far until it is far too late. It is in those moments that I question it all. Why I even have any desire to smoke at all. I question my sanity a little when I start thinking about how even though I have made myself sick I would do it again. Anyone in their right mind would quit trying if they had made themselves sick as many times as I have, but I guess there is this part of me that wants to concur it. It is a dichotomy of walking the line between concurring and yielding.

I didn’t give up though. I decided I would smoke again the next day, but because I had gotten sick the day before, I was so much more tentative. Almost too much so- I didn’t even get the full affect of the cigarette. I mean the effects were still pleasant, but much more subtle and manageable. I had been feeling slightly nauseous and very tired all day and it was amazing the difference that one cigarette made. I didn’t make the connection until I felt much better after smoking. It reminded me of the time that I unknowingly got addicted to green tea and happened to not have any for almost a whole day. I had a splitting headache and I couldn’t study so I decided to grab a green tea. My headache seemed to melt away.

I wanted to again yesterday but didn’t. I even made plans to, but decided against it. Actually- part of the reason was that I ended up taking an afternoon nap which is somewhat uncommon for me.

I’m still pretty conflicted. Part of me wants to experiment with smoking at least on a once daily basis for a bit and the other part of me refuses to even consider it. That is the part of me that was a bit too happy when I made myself sick again. I plotted to smoke again this morning- but it is far too cold outside for it to be enjoyable. So I have scrapped that plan as well. Also, I think if I do plan on taking the plunge with experimenting with a cigarette a day- I will need to tell my boyfriend before I do. I think the stress and guilt of keeping it from him would eventually eat away at me. And right now- I’m not sure how I will tell him.

But, my pile of work awaits me… maybe I’ll write more on this later. Until next time…

No, you can’t just have one

A couple of months later, I smoked again. I was working at a law firm downtown and my hours were 10 to 6. This gave me ample time in the morning to sneak off to my ravine spot and have a cigarette before work. I only did it twice though, on two consecutive days. The first day, I enjoyed the cigarette and managed not to poison myself before work. That, in itself, was a feat considering what I had done to myself a few months before. The next day, it was a lot colder outside. I decided I didn’t care though, because I wanted to have another cigarette. I went to my spot and because of the wind and the cold I had trouble lighting the cigarette. I wanted it so bad that it made me upset that I couldn’t light it. I finally got it lit and smoked it but that brief moment of panic I felt when I couldn’t light the cigarette really scared me. I mean, I’ve hardly started and already I was, at least mentally, craving it. I thought about this as I smoked the cigarette. I mean, it was sort of a crossroads. Should I go down the path to addiction or stop now and be free of it. I was pretty disgusted with myself by the time I was back toward my house. I quickly made the decision to chuck the almost full pack of cigarettes in the dumpster and never think of smoking again.

But I did think of smoking again. I mean, how could I not? Smoking is addictive that is why. And I was or at least the pleasure centers of my brain were definitely enthralled. I didn’t smoke again for another three months. I got my opportunity when my mom went home for the holidays. The first day she was gone, I stopped at the convenience store on my way home and picked up a pack of Matinee Slims Menthol- an ultra light cigarette.

These cigarettes were almost too easy to smoke. It felt like inhaling air and the feeling of inhaling menthol was just well cool (Pun intentional). That and the pleasurable feeling returned immediately. I was almost instantly riding a wondering nicotine high with no adverse effects.I smoked inside, knowing that as long as I stopped long enough before my mom came back from her holidays that I would be able to get rid of the smell.

I smoked again that morning after breakfast but before my shower. As I smoked it I could tell that these cigarettes were designed for addiction. This time that realization didn’t scare me, even though it probably should have. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about smoking. The moment I got home, I got my cigarettes out and lit up. I dragged and inhaled my normal sized puff and nothing happened. I didn’t feel the pleasant relaxed feeling wash over me like I had the last cigarette. I decided I must need a bigger puff. I drew on the cigarette as long as I could and inhaled and finally received the feeling I was looking for. It scared me a little, that after only two cigarettes, I was already becoming tolerant to nicotine. But I didn’t let this worry me for long, but I did decide that I wouldn’t smoke in the morning.

Physically, I felt fine all day despite not having the morning cigarette. This pleased me since I didn’t want to get physically addicted because I was going to have to stop before my mom got back. I still wanted a cigarette when I got home. I smoked one right after supper and decided that I wanted another one. I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to have another right away, lest I want to poison myself again, but I only managed to wait 10 minutes before I lit up again. I got through most of the cigarette fine and didn’t really start feeling sick until I put it out. Oops, I did it again. I OD’d on nicotine. My lack of self control scared me this time. I wrestled with whether I should throw the rest of the pack away and decided against it despite the fact that smoking was really no good for me.

I kept that pack for months without smoking, although I certainly did think about it. I threw them away as I was getting ready to go away to University. They were probably stale anyways, but for me it was an affirming action- that I wasn’t going to smoke again. But I did, because as me and many others have found out, smoking cigarettes is like eating Lays potato chips- bet you can’t have just one.

My First Full Cigarette

There were a few more puffs that night, but for some reason I never smoked with that friend again. I had numerous fantasies about me being her cigarette supplier when I turned 18 because I was older than her and she sometimes had trouble getting cigarettes. It never happened.  Also, she seemed to become protective of me. Like she didn’t want to be the one responsible for getting me started on smoking. I wasn’t one to push things either.

I couldn’t stop thinking about smoking. It became a bit of an obsession. So much so that I decided I would buy cigarettes on my 18th birthday. Only once it came time for me to go purchase them, I chickened out. It would take me another two months before I had the courage to go buy my own pack. I bought a pack of DuMauriers Lights (regular length). I wanted a pack of DuMaurier regulars because I knew I like the way they tasted, but I was too chicken to tell the sales clerk he had made a mistake. Besides, it didn’t really matter at this point. To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised that I got the words out. Just buying the cigarettes was a rush. Probably because I knew that it was the first step to doing something I shouldn’t be doing.

I took the cigarettes home, got my lighter that my friend had given me awhile back for candles and walked to the ravine by my house. I didn’t really want anyone to see and besides- the view from the top of the ravine is beautiful. I couldn’t really think of a better place to smoke my first full cigarette.

I sat down cross-legged on the ground, and unwrapped the cellophane from the cigarettes. I took a deep breath and took one of the cigarettes out and placed it between my lips. It always amazed me how light cigarettes are and this moment was no different. It took me a few tries to get it lit because of the wind but I managed. It was from here on that I started to make mistakes. First, I was taking in giant drags. I was light headed from the first one, which at first was pleasant. The problem is I kept taking large drags. Also, I smoked this first cigarette way too fast as if it was going to be the last one I ever had. The combination of my large drags with the speed at which I was smoking made me dizzy. I didn’t stop. I was determined to smoke my first cigarette to the filter and so I did.

At this point I was feeling pretty ill. I stumbled home, starting to think that my choice of ravine edge smoking spot might not have been the best place. I immediately lay on the couch. I wasn’t aware at the time, but I had just given myself nicotine poisoning. I didn’t lie there for long before I had to run upstairs and puke. Puking provided immediate relief. After I puked, had a shower, threw my clothing into the wash (to hide all evidence) and had a snack to settle my stomach. I almost threw the cigarettes into the trash after just one. I probably should have. But something inside me decided I should keep them. Probably the part of the brain that enjoyed what the nicotine was doing to it. Stupid brain. Damn dopamine and its pleasurable effects. Because I kept the cigarettes it almost guaranteed I would do it again at some point. And I did. On more than one occasion. 

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