dpnice - Archived Blog Posts

[dpnice]

If I desired to be poetic I would compare my present life to that of an alpinist; striving to attain that one brief moment at the summit above the clouds but spending the majority of his time struggling up the tortured slopes cloaked by thick mist and cloud, forever wondering if the summit will ever be attained. Then when that rare experience is achieved all that stretches ahead is the decent into the valley and the renewed struggle up the side of the next unclimbable mountain.

Yesterday was a day with my head above the clouds but too far down the mountain slope to see the peak ahead of me.

I occupied myself with mundane unimportant tasks. Ventured out into the living world to collect my salary cheque and pay it into the bank. Just that short trip immerses one in the total beauty of the South of France; I honestly can’t drive 5 minutes without being overwhelmed by the scenery, architecture and plants.

I managed my hourly walk, slightly later than programmed but without any real need to force myself out. Perhaps, even though only a newly established routine, it is becoming something automatic in my life. The circuit around Cap Ferrat is wonderful but it is rare I meet a large number of other walkers. Now if I still lived in town I could use the Promenade and my hour would be filled with seeing hundreds of attractive looking guys. Then instead of spending the hour constantly ruminating over the fact that I can’t smoke I could spend it fantasizing over each and every guy I pass.

Today seems not to be heading towards being exceptional. Since waking I have been sat in front of JUB. Now that I am dressed I have no real envies just the realisation that I should get down to clearing up my terrace.

Perhaps if I just stopped agonizing over life and its problems and accepted the boredom and emptiness as normal I would be happier.

 

[dpnice]

That’s it I am finally giving up. If my life without cigarettes is so miserable then instead of all this shame and anxiety about the lack of motivation and aims in my life I am going to just accept everything.

If I am getting fat then hard luck. I am sick of forcing myself out to do an hour’s exercise, I never had to do it before and I have had enough of doing it now. Shit, no one but myself is going to see my disgusting body naked so as long as I can manage to fit into a pair of trousers that is all that is important.

I can’t be bothered cooking or eating correctly so might as well just stop buying the food and throwing it away after several days. It seems more practical to buy junk food and eat something I am going to enjoy.

I feel so uptight because I don’t go out any more. Instead of sitting there bemoaning the fact that I am doing nothing might as well just stretch out on the sofa and take a long nap.

Today I found myself thinking about a cigarette from the moment I awoke. I have done absolutely nothing and felt guilty all day.

Enough is enough! If I can’t smoke and survival is the only thing I can hope for then let’s survive instead of living and stop complaining.

Work, eat and sleep! This shall be my daily routine and my programme for the next few months. Perhaps see you all again in a few month’s time.

 

[dpnice]

I would like to be able to confess that my recent bad mood was a thing of the past. But no! Unfortunately I can feel the anger inside me just waiting below the surface ready to explode at the simplest of annoyances. On the outside I give the appearance of normality but when on my own I am capable of exploding over anything.

I just dropped an apple and immediately had to physically stop myself from throwing it through the window breaking the glass. I was just so angry during a few short seconds, before I regained control, that I seemed to be capable of doing anything. To tackle the stress I am trying a homeopathy remedy but I am not at all certain that it is having any affect.

Finding the enjoyment in doing something is still nearly impossible. I went out to the cinema last night but with absolutely no enthusiasm. At the end of the showing I had one thought in my head; I wanted a cigarette.

I have lost a kilo even though I stopped doing my daily brisk walk; so will that encourage me to restart the exercise again?

In case I wasn’t clear and any readers misunderstood I must reaffirm that I am still a non-smoker with the hopes that I will never relapse.

I am not working today and had hopes of good weather but it is drizzling and seems to have settled into that pattern for the rest of the day. I suppose I should use the fact that I am obliged to stay at home all day to research a little more in preparation for Costa Rica.

Perhaps a bite to eat and a long nap first.

 

[dpnice]

The cat was 14 years old yesterday and spent the afternoon sleeping in my arms whilst I was stretched out on the sofa.

No it wasn’t a birthday treat for him it is how my life has deteriorated. No need to give me advice as I am old enough to know what I should be doing to put my life back on the rails.

But if you have a magic formula for putting good intentions into practice I would appreciate knowing it.

 

[dpnice]

I am still incapable of evacuating the thought that as it is miserable not being able to smoke then the whole of life might as well be miserable and I shall just make no more efforts trying to improve it.

Despite this unproductive attitude and the continual thought that it would be extremely pleasant to go to sleep and never wake up again I haven’t yet melted down into a lethargic, unmoving, vegetating, moronic mass.

I have managed to persevere with my daily forced march around the cap. Due to the abysmal weather conditions lately I have been obliged to stride out after work when night has fallen and not a living soul remains on the streets. In fact it is quite pleasant; the night time smells are intoxicating (apart from the strong curry odour I encountered this evening – I wonder where that came from?). No need of music as the noise of the frogs croaking is sufficient to keep you company. Then it is interesting to note that there is not a single villa occupied, all second homes I suppose.

Walking is one way of becoming aware that I need to exercise more. As I swing my arms in keeping with my rapid strides I can feel them rubbing up against the rolls of fat around my waist, now that is a new experience. The solution seems to be to start some sort of exercise routine that works on reducing the fat and firming up the waist line and stomach. Or I suppose I could have it all sucked out into a bucket. Then there is the easy way out of wearing a corset for the rest of my life.

But my weight is slowly going down and at present has stabilised around 70 kilos. I even bought myself some scales so I can check my progress morning and evening. This weight loss seems primarily due to fact that I no longer eat between meals, chocolate has been banished from my life and I have stopped eating half a baguette covered in honey or jam whenever I am hungry.

So as I start my sixth month as an ex-smoker the battle continues. Each day I hope for some improvement and on discovering its absence I hope that I will see it tomorrow. The problem will be the day I realise that this bright new future is not just around the corner and I have a life before me of bitterness, emptiness and misery. It will be at that moment I will be able to prove that I have succeeded in giving up cigarettes completely and I will have to decide if it was really worth while.

 

[dpnice]

Internet is a real resource for ex-smokers; it abounds with forums and sites feeding you advice and support. But I have yet to find one that deals with the sort of bereavement that I am suffering.

After five months people seem to have overcome the pain of separation and turned the page allowing them to continue with their lives. Few people seem to be still seeking help after five months. Yet here I am unable to chase the thoughts of past pleasures from my head; those moments of pleasure which were always accompanied by a cigarette.

Every single thing I do requires a sacrifice or has become an obligation.

The myriad of simple things I did as a smoker now prove to be problems as they always pose the same question – you can’t smoke whilst doing this so do you really want to do it.

Do I want to go out for a coffee – a coffee without cigarette?
Do I want to stop the car to look at the view knowing that I can’t smoke whilst enjoying it?
Is it worthwhile going to a restaurant alone if I don’t have the support of a cigarette?
Is crawling out of bed in the morning worth it when the day doesn’t start with that much needed nicotine intake?

Where are all the improvements in my life that I was promised?

There are only two things encouraging me to hang on. The level of my bank balance is one and possibly the most important as you wouldn’t believe what I am saving by not smoking – remembering that it is not only the cost of a packet I am saving but all those outings that I no longer do.

Pride! Starting smoking again would be impossible as it would require confessing my failure to all those I have informed of my attempt to stop. Too embarrassing believe me. Then there is a slight personal satisfaction that I have succeeded in quitting doing something over which I had no control. A second drink is easily refused but I know a first cigarette would put me back on the road to heavy addiction. The fact that I have been able to control that addiction is something I never thought I would be able to do.

So let me put misery aside for this evening; seeing “Sex and the City” at the cinema has cheered me up so I might as well crawl into bed smiling over that rather than bemoaning the fact that I would really prefer sitting on the terrace lighting up a last cigarette. Didn’t Carrie give up smoking for Aiden?

Mind you for whom am I giving it up?

 

[dpnice]

Not working today it became a real struggle to extract myself from the secure folds of the duvet. Each hourly look at the time sent me retreating back to the oblivion of sleep. When I smoked, the minute my eyes opened I was up and about occupied with the routine of living. Now I try to postpone that dreaded moment until the last possible minute.

Before showering I decided to at least wash the car. For the past week we have had nearly daily rainfall; rain which had picked up the finest of sand particles from over the Sahara and then deposited them in a sticky brown covering on every single unprotected surface.

Car washed I returned to shave, shower and wash my hair. At least my personal hygiene is still something considered important. I think once one considers not washing one morning or when the thoughts of the worthwhile ness of clean teeth becomes confused it is really time to take professional help.

Cooking lunch has become something rare but I did manage to rustle up a cheese omelette and tomato salad.

To pass the time I had decided to take the car and drive my usual daily routes but this time I would stop to look at the views I have always had a great desire to see, but never the time. You can see several of the photographs I took here June08

So all in all it seems I had a reasonably full day, active and interesting. But every moment required an enormous amount of forcing myself to make the effort. The lack of enthusiasm left me wanting to do nothing else but crawl back into bed. Every action was an obligation. My personal ablutions, chores, cooking and even doing something that in theory I enjoy doing required me insisting that I did it; an obligation rather than a spontaneous pleasure.

 

[dpnice]

For the last couple of days the good weather has returned and brought with it the tourists whilst encouraging the Nicois to gear themselves up for summer. So the winter clothes seem to have been packed away and everyone is out and about in shorts and tee-shirts.

It is this observation that makes me wonder if I am worrying too much about the 5 kilos I have gained and the rolls of fat around my waist. Looking around the crowds I have seen today I can honestly say I saw no man in his fifties who didn’t have a beer gut or thickening waist line. In fact you could probably include the 40 yr old men in this group as well.

So should I just accept I can no longer be the willowy ephebe that I used to be and just accept the change in my appearance? With being close to sixty and being certain that few if none are going to every see me unclothed should I just give up? Is that what growing old is about? Accepting body changes for what they are and not being too aghast at the hideous image thrown back to us by our bathroom mirror?

I really have no desire to start a series of exercises to reduce my waistline. But if I was certain that there would be some visual results and sooner rather than later I think I would be willing to give it a try.

Growing old and giving up smoking are two experiences I would have liked to have avoided in my life.

 

[dpnice]

Well it does seem that becoming an ex-smoker is turning into a long term project. The monotony of my life is nearly unbearable, to such an extent that yesterday I climbed into bed at 15hr just because I knew I was incapable of surviving the afternoon.

I had hoped, by now, to be a well balanced, participating member of society. But that seems impossible at present as I am completely incapable of controlling my diet so I don’t see me coping with other important needs in my life.

Today is my day off which unfortunately coincides with monsieur’s birthday so I am obliged to work yet again tonight. Neither financial recompense nor extra time off to compensate either. The same thing happened last week; we had guests on my day off.

Mind you the time when madame disappears to cruise the Mediterranean during two months is fast approaching.

NB. My hour of brisk walking is much more interesting if I do it during the daylight hours. At least I get to see some attractive guys and the occasional bare-chested builder.

 

[dpnice]

Have you noticed how accommodating mankind is? Whatever the situation he manages to cope no matter what degree of suffering is involved. One thinks that mankind has complete control over his living conditions and future where, in fact, he has no control at all and just seems to accept, survive and continue.

To a much lesser degree my miserable nicotine free life is also beginning to seem acceptable. If being miserable is the result of being nicotine free then so be it.

Surprisingly it was this thought that stimulated a slight change in my approach yesterday. If I have managed to give up cigarettes then there is no reason that I can’t give up being miserable. One line of advice found on Internet was that you can do everything as an ex-smoker that you did as a smoker. I agree but really it is not the same and subsequently you have to rebuild the pleasure that was part of this activity.

It is time to accept that there is a life after giving up smoking. One just has to accept that it is no longer the same life and that everything needs to change. I have always had this self image of myself as an elderly, rather distinguished, Englishman living in the South of France; but this image was accompanied by the fact that I was a smoker. Now is the time to find a new self image.

Now is the time to find a new way to spend my free time. Now is the time to find a new way of eating.
If anyone reading this has advice on changing your life and breaking habits that you have firmly entrenched in your life for the past 44yrs then please feel free to share them.

All these sites on quitting smoking are great supports for the beginning but once you have stopped, once the months begin to slip past all help seems to evaporate. They all insist that there is a life after quitting but where is the help and advice to show you how to live this new life? So seems like I am on my own.

Think positively David. We can do this together.

At least the weather is now on my side. Summer has arrived, the skies are clear and the sea is like a lake.

 

[dpnice]

Is it the climatic changes or just old age creeping up quietly behind my back? But I am positive that the summer weather gets harder and harder to endure with each passing year.

It becomes detestable the moment I am obliged to fit cold showers into my work schedule and a change of shirts before serving lunch and dinner. With the necessity of three white shirts a day I have the proof that summer is well and truly entrenched for the next three months. Happily this coincides with the departure of my employers who sail away not to reappear above the horizon before the beginning of September.

Even with the absence of stress and work restrictions the heat is an omnipresent aspect of life during the next months. My life changes and I begin to adapt to a survival routine. Long afternoon naps are taken to recover from working early and late during the day. Outings are avoided or at least planned for early mornings. The shady side of the street becomes the only side to walk on and air conditioned shops become the only places I am willing to offer myself as a client.

A successful day is one where I have avoided being soaked by transpiration and sweat dripping down my forehead. What happened to the young man who spent whole days worshiping the sun with his skin soaked by rivulets of perspiration?

Accompanying this oppressive heat is the annual opening of the open air art gallery of beautiful youth. I am constantly a traffic risk when driving as my head seems to be highly sprung twisting to look at each handsome bare-chested male pedestrian. It is with occasional guilty feelings of being a lusting old troll that I manage to control myself and not turn and follow a young stallion down the road for an hour.

The beauty of youth and the frustration of age.

 

[dpnice]

It seemed so simple. All those positive thoughts, those interesting ideas and those life enhancing activities. Unfortunately being positive is easier than finding the desire and effort to put that positivism into action.

After six months of not smoking the evaluation is not very good.

The daily brisk walk for an hour has been established and welded into the daily routine. I don’t enjoy doing it but accept that it is a necessary means of controlling my weight. It really is a sacrifice as I am forced to do something that is not in my nature to do; it takes time that I really don’t have free and therefore must find by getting up earlier or crawling into bed later.

Day by day I am beginning to get my diet under control. This involves removing every single thing I have ever enjoyed eating; changing my pattern of eating; accepting that after 50yrs I must spend the rest of my life not eating what I want when I want. It is only now, six months later, that I am managing to start cooking real meals again.

There you are two brownie points for me based on exercise and diet. Now for the rest I must admit to complete failure.

I am still thinking about cigarettes daily, from the moment I awake to when I go to bed.

My only means to control this is to sleep and subsequently any spare time is spent spread out on the sofa dozing – 2 or 3 hours or even the whole afternoon. I seem to spend more time sleeping than awake now that I have no work routine to enforce activity.

No books read. No restaurants. Hardly any moments spent in a café. In fact hardly any moments spent away from the security of home. I haven’t spent more than a few seconds on my terrace and most of the plants are now dead through lack of watering.

Daily I still want to scream and throw objects across the room.

Most nights I fall asleep wondering how nice it would be if I never woke up again. My musings whilst awaiting the arrival of sleep are the blackest I have ever experienced.

Though I have stabilised my weight the waistline is disgusting with three or four rolls of fat overhanging my waistband. To change that I see only one solution and that is some form of physical exercise daily. Now when to do that?

So as positive as my thoughts might be my life is still as miserable as the day I stopped smoking and apart from my bank account and waistline nothing has changed.

There is no doubt that I can continue to live like this; but can one really call it living.

Excuse me boring you but I need to get it all off my chest occasionally.

 

[dpnice]

I am going to clean my flat from top to bottom today and intend doing nothing else until I have finished.

Everything needs doing from washing down the walls and woodwork to polishing the floors.

My lack of motivation has now reached a level where I need to take control.

Right I will be back when it is all spotlessly clean and all my linen summer clothes hanging in the wardrobe and my winter ones packed away in the cellar.

 

[dpnice]

My intentions were good. I felt really quite motivated as well. Finally it has taken me five whole days to complete something I should have done in a single day.

Mind you spending nearly two days in bed sleeping wasn’t really conducive to doing housework. I did manage to haul myself out of the bedroom to complete the essential tasks in life such as feeding and walking the dogs, taking the Mercedes to Monaco and feeding myself.

Every moment that I opened my eyes I knew I should activate myself but after drinking a coffee I just gave up and crawled back under the covers.

Well today I awoke and for some unknown reason found the required effort to knuckle down and finish the rest of the flat.

Now is this a good sign? Does it bode well for the next few days?

 

[dpnice]

Due to the fact that I have speeded up during my walking I realise that one whole tour of Cap Ferrat no longer takes an hour. So today I completed two tours and subsequently found it took over an hour. I think I will have to add a few detours to my circuit to make it just that little longer.

I awoke not exactly enthusiastic over my plans for the day but aware that it was well time that I got underway. So I completed my list of jobs for today. Mind you can I call walking the dogs around the garden a job? Early in the morning before the heat arrives and all is silent it is a real pleasure to be there all alone. Then in the late afternoon the heat haze has settled over the horizon and the noise of people on the beach breaks the solitude.

For the first time since several months I cooked a real meal this evening; oh I ate lunch as well. Due to the problem loosing weight no dessert just fruit and that I might add pisses me off.

I really would like to see something change to reward me for all my efforts. A morning when I awake without thinking about cigarettes; or finding my weight has gone below 70kg; either of these would perhaps give me added courage to continue. It is a new struggle everyday. I am afraid of leaving the property in case I let myself be tempted and buy a packet.

Well I am off to the cinema tonight to see “Hancock”.

 

[dpnice]

Being obliged to go into the centre of Nice for work I decided to combine it with shopping for my holidays and lunch in my favourite restaurant.

What does the well dressed Englishman wear when climbing up the sides of volcanoes and tramping through tropical rain forests? I wanted some well fitting lightweight khaki pants which proved impossible to find. Yet you see every single adventurer on television exploration documentaries wearing them. I finally settled for a pair of hiking trouser which will be suitable for the weather but on the side of elegance fall extremely short; similar complaint for the leg length also.

I bought myself several long-sleeved linen shirts in shit colours and packing these with some of the many tee shirts I possess should be sufficient. Oh I need a hat but that I can buy when we get there.

Went wild and spent a small fortune on buying a bottle of Habit Rouge, the perfume concentrate. I have always liked it but since working here I no longer wear smellies, I just manage with a good deodorant. So it was good to treat myself to a luxury I don’t really need – and I smell wonderful.

My courage failed me for the restaurant. I saw no pleasure sitting there if I couldn’t smoke so I let it drop and came home to eat an omelette.

I am still in a state of mind lacking all enthusiasm but at least I am occupying my self with some of the things that need doing.

The weather is absolutely wonderful. Okay one has to deal with the oppressive heat in the afternoon; but the early mornings and late evenings are perfect.

Managing to eat a home cooked meal tonight – I have a daurade, tomatoes, red peppers and onions baking in the oven and some rice bubbling on the hob.

 

[dpnice]

I suppose that it is obvious that I am still battling with my monotonously miserable existence in a nicotine free lifestyle. A new start with the beginning of a new month leaves me wondering if things will improve this time or not. I am starting to be convinced that perhaps this mediocre life I am living is actually the way the rest of my life is going to be and is the only reward I am ever going to get for having given up smoking.

Of course “miserable” is a subjective impression of my life. Here I am in one of the financial paradises in France, with Cannes and Monaco just around the corner. The views are breathtaking every time I lift my eyes for the computer screen or drag my weary body out into the garden. My daily jogging (brisk walking) takes me amongst opulent villas surrounded by verdant gardens. The weather couldn’t be more perfect.

And as an extra my two weeks in Costa Rica is fast approaching. Finally I have found the perfect outfit for the elderly Englishman exploring the tropical rain forest. A perfectly fitting pair of chinos and khaki linen shirts. Now I have to sort out the beach part of the holiday – I am not looking forward to this; strolling along the beach in early morning silence or eerie evening light has an attraction to it, whilst lazing laid flat out on a towel seems just a waste of time. Some organisation with friends seems to be on the agenda.

The need for clothing and other life essential necessities have obliged me to leave my monastical existence and become a member of the human race once again; even if it be for a few short hours. The streets are paved with handsome, often bare-chested, young men of all races to such an extent that I realise how unfair life is. For now I realise that as I cruise male perfection when he looks at me, if indeed he does, the image I see reflected in his eyes seems to be the equivalent to the painting in Dorian Gray’s attic.

Aging is so unfair! I was fine with being an elderly, well dressed Englishman living on the Côte d’Azur but the image I had was always accompanied with a cigarette delicately held in my right hand.

Without the cigarette the image has become distorted and not at all appealing.

 

[dpnice]

After a rather lengthy discussion with my doctor it seems possible to put a different perspective on my approach to no longer smoking. Rather than considering the deterioration in my life as a result of making sacrifices it is really the result of 40yrs of smoking; now is the payback. It is no longer a question of retaining my ancient way of life minus the nicotine there is finally no choice but to change everything and achieve a balance that may bring a degree of happiness.

All change requires an effort but the major one is that related to my weight problems. To get my weight gain under control requires a complete rethink about how, when and what I eat. Obviously 72 kilos is not excessively overweight yet the resulting rolls of fat around my waist and sagging breasts are something I cannot live with; to look like a bleached whale is an insult to how I see myself at my age.

I spent the afternoon wading through my recipes to make a selection of fish and vegetable dishes that would be suitable to the changes I am obliged to make. This evening I rustled up a gratin de choux-fleur which was excellent, certainly good enough to serve as a vegetable accompaniment for madame.

Spent the afternoon in town and I really believed that I had died and gone to heaven. Never in my life have I seen such a concentration of perfect young men. Obviously beauty is in the eye of the beholder; but if I could have put just a small percentage of them on a porn site I would gain a fortune. The knowledge that I can treat them solely as art, their beauty being something I will never experience is so frustrating. Seeing them emphasises my distaste with my present appearance and accentuates the fact that my age puts me out of reach of them all.

My preparations for Costa Rica are well in hand which means I can give myself a couple of days off to visit gardens at the end of this week.

 

[dpnice]

Two days! Two whole days during which I have had just one desire; to jump in the car and drive out to buy a packet of cigarettes. It is unjust; this is my 7th month and surely I should be able to spend at least one day without craving a smoke. Nothing seems to be supportive, I have even managed to put on 2 kilos even though I have hardly eaten for two days.

I would like to drive into town to see a little of life as my solitude is weighing heavily at present. But I don’t know whether I dare leave the security of my home; I am afraid the first thing I will do is drive to the nearest tobacconist.

My suitcase is packed and the taxi ordered for 9hr tomorrow. My anxiety level is climbing gradually. Have I sufficient clothes? Have I suitable outfits for tropical forests and evenings out? I think I am prepared for every eventuality except snake bite. In my present state of mind I am tempted to just sit down and let the venom decide on my future should ever I be bitten.

This is my final expedition. From now on holidays will be spent in Europe and its beautiful capital cities where restaurants and hotels abound. Where I know exactly what to wear when and where and the flight doesn’t last 8 hours.

 

[dpnice]

Photographs are here:

CostaRica08