The Return of Agnes: Agnes vs. King Kong

I am beginning the struggle again. It's rather early, for me, on Saturday October 10. Madeleine is still in bed. I had unkindly not told her that I wasn't smoking yesterday, and she took my resulting lack of affect personally. This was unreasonable as she knew that I'd lost all my linens to the wind the previous night—theater people invaded my studio, capered around, broke things, and sang blaxploitation songs while drinking from a bottle of Jameson's. One tends not to have much affect left the day following such a night, smoking or no.

I am beginning the struggle again. It is a real struggle. I wish it wasn't. Especially as it is the kind of thing that makes me feel extraordinarily self-indulgent—as in starving children in Africa. This is the worst post ever. I am going to have to cut out coffee, too, which makes the morning very, very fuzzy, as you can see. So much of what happens when I quit is physical: the giant Q-tip head effect I am experiencing right now, the severe muscle tension, the headaches, the gastro-intestinal irregularities, this stuff is a problem. But worse is the feeling that I am somehow too close to the world. Smoking is a very effective barrier—sometimes literally—between the self and the outside. Whenever I remove it I feel raw and a bit emotionally enflamed. Which is disgusting. Also, my brain gets completely scattered and I become even yet still more stupider than I actually am.

Georges Braque: “When someone appeals to talent, it is because his zeal is wanting.” I wish I had a talent for this. And by “this” I mean actually stopping smoking rather than “quitting,” for which I have a zealous history. My shrink told me to remember that this cannot be a passive process. Not bad advice. He also quoted Alcoholics Anonymous: “Move a muscle, change a feeling.” Which means that I should get off my ass; very good advice. I may subject you all to the rather dull litany of my daily life—I have found in the past that keeping an obsessive record of what I eat, when I go to bed and get up, if/how I exercise, the money I spend, is very helpful to me. I'm not sure why this is. I may or may not do this, and I may or may not post it.

Sleepy but determined. For now. Later I will write about the “affect issue” which probably makes sense to no one except M.

No Smokes Last Night. I guess that makes this Day 2.