Why I Smoke

I was suffering through a terrible depressive episode when a friend advised me to go outside and get some fresh air.

“I will,” I told her. “I need a cigarette.”

She laughed so hard she probably had something coming out of every orifice except maybe her ears. For a day, I was famous with people I’d never met as the conversation made the rounds of her family and neighbors.

But cigarettes are best when I’m on edge. On the edge or after a good cry, a cigarette is divine. It stings a little, giving me that lift into my body. It stops the tears. It gives me rational…