Am I a smoker? Ummmm… Maybe?

So it occurred to me last night that my cigar habit may have crossed some kind of Rubicon from occasional way to relax and blow off some steam (or smoke, I guess) to a daily part of my routine. While in Pittsburgh and Miami for recent family weddings I would also join my brother, a smoker, anytime he went out for a cigarette and I’d have one or two with him. At the wedding reception in Miami there was a guy hand-rolling cigars that were unbelievably good, smooth and mild. I smoked four of them over the course of the night and took a few home with me too. They didn’t last too long. I bought eight cigars on Friday night after work. I have one left on Tuesday morning.

My therapist cautiously endorsed the cigars since it was (at the time) a healthier decision for me than drinking, but she warned me that I could get hooked. I laughed- people don’t become smokers because of cigars, you don’t inhale, it’s not like cigarettes, etc. But I have to start admitting that the habit may have become an addiction in the past few months. My clothes are starting smell like cigars, even after washing them. I find myself looking for my lighter and cigar cutter as soon as I walk in the door after work.

My guess is that I’m not the first person to stop drinking seek out replacements for it somehow. I suppose cigars are better than heroin. I could probably cut back to just a few each week and lose the daily habit. On the other hand, cigars relieve my anxiety. When I’m out on the porch with one it’s usually a very calm and peaceful opportunity to read or reflect. I could probably keep bargaining with myself about it until the end of the day.

What made me think of it was that I had a doctors appointment last week and the nurse asked “Do you smoke?” and I didn’t know how to answer. But now I’m thinking I knew the answer and just didn’t want to say it.