The Dream of the Unreachable Pocket

Denne tekst er til rygere – og til dig, der kæmper med en anden afhængighed. Jeg skrev den i et subreddit for folk, der prøver at stoppe med at ryge, og ville dele den her(inspirationskilde er en drøm, midt i en krise efter rygestop).

Hey,
I just wanted to share something with you. Maybe it’ll motivate you. Maybe it’ll make you reflect. Either way, it’s been sitting with me, and I think it’s worth putting into words.

I call it: The Dream of the Unreachable Pocket.

It all started with loneliness.

I had this strange dream – the kind you get when you quit. But maybe it wasn’t just mine. Maybe it’s every smoker’s dream.

I was at a company party. I didn’t know the company – only that it had everything needed for a celebration. I wore my best outfit. The room was full of happy people who accepted me. I’d never felt more included. I didn’t cough – where the phlegm always represented misery. I didn’t feel anxious. I was present.

I kept trying to find my cigarettes. Every time I reached for them, they were tucked away in an impossible pocket I couldn’t access. I’d get distracted by someone I didn’t know – someone approaching me with a friendly gesture. I smiled and laughed the whole time. I could just be me.

I reached for that pocket again… but still couldn’t get to the cigarettes.

The party continued. Eventually, it ended. I had the best food, though I didn’t eat a thing. I got drunk without really drinking. It was the perfect transition to the city. And at no point did I think about health. It was the time before I started smoking.

Suddenly, I was in the city. I met people at the crosswalk, waiting for the green light. Everyone was waiting – and I was happy. People approached me with warmth. We smiled and laughed, and I cracked my worst dad jokes. I’d never felt so accepted. I thought the green light represented the start, and the red was the wait.

It felt like the entire city was my friend – and I was the city’s friend. Again, I reached for my cigarettes. Still, they were in that unreachable pocket.

I woke up with the biggest smile. Just like the dreams where you fall in love or dream something beautiful. But this time, I fell in love with a friend I’d never met. I’d never felt this kind of longing before – the longing for a true friend. Maybe the longing for the time before I started to smoke.

I reflected on what sparked the dream:
I read Allen Carr’s book before falling asleep – he keeps talking about enjoying everything and anything without smoking. That really affected my dream – also, read the book!

And then it hit me: I need friends. Because this will end in loneliness. Not because of the cigarettes – but because of the reason I started smoking in the first place. It was the longing for acceptance.

Even though that was a long time ago, and I’m no longer in clubs trying to impress girls, the feeling still lingers. This time, though, the cigarettes are in the trash bin – not in my pocket(but still impossible).

I still feel insecure, anxious, concerned about health – waiting for the green light. But this time, I need a friend. Someone to approach me and walk with me across the street. Maybe I just remember how it felt, before the whole thing started.

So here’s my thought:
Remember what you really wanted. Instead of having that, you started to smoke.

Let’s not forget what we were truly reaching for.

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Emne