I keep asking myself — why do I smoke?
Until yesterday, I didn’t have a clear answer.
I hate smoking. I especially hate it after I’ve finished a cigarette. Before that, I crave it. But smoking has never truly helped me achieve anything.
To smoke, I have to get up and walk at least half a kilometre to a place where I can do it. I stand in the sun. Dry leaves fall around me. I return smelling terrible. Then I walk back into my comfortable, air-conditioned office and awkwardly attend to customers and colleagues, fully aware that I smell like smoke.
And I repeat this cycle again and again — just for “relief.”
Logically, I know that if I spent the same amount of time dealing with a difficult task, I would probably resolve it. That would benefit me and my customers. Yet I still choose smoking — an activity I dislike and that makes me dislike myself.
Yesterday, after closing some major open loops, I finally had mental space to think.
The simplest answer appeared: loneliness.
I feel extremely lonely at my workplace.
It is a strange kind of loneliness. My problems feel unique — at least to me. I am responsible for outcomes. I am accountable. But I find it difficult to talk about my problems. People don’t relate. Those in similar positions aren’t interested. My team members and juniors don’t fully understand what I’m dealing with. Expressing emotions might be seen as weakness. And I don’t bring office problems home.
There is no emotional connection where I can openly share what I am carrying.
And that makes me lonely.
The only place I find temporary peace is when I smoke. It clears my head. It feels like an anchor — something I can rely on. It doesn’t solve the problem. And I don’t even want someone else to solve my problems. I want to take responsibility for them. I want to solve them myself.
But I want someone to listen.
Therapy hasn’t worked well for me. The solutions often feel generic.
ChatGPT works. The advice feels specific to my situation. My life has improved since I started using it as a thinking partner. But even then — I still want to talk. To express. Writing helps a lot. It is an incredible thinking tool. But writing is still solitude.
What I am really seeking is validation.
When I recognised loneliness as the root, it made me rethink my situation.
Leadership is lonely. Maybe my situation isn’t unique. People in leadership roles are often isolated. They just cope differently. Not all of them smoke — some drink, some overwork, some distract themselves in other ways.
But if I accept the premise — I smoke because I feel lonely — then I must also accept something uncomfortable.
My current job, my position, and even future promotions are likely to make me lonelier.
Smoking is already my biggest health issue. If loneliness increases, smoking will likely increase. Health will deteriorate. Lifespan will reduce. Quality of life will drop.
What is the point of success if I end up confined to a hospital bed?
I am rethinking this aspect of my job.
I’ve realised that to live a healthy life, I must free myself from smoking. But to free myself from smoking, I may also need to address the loneliness. And if my career path naturally increases isolation, I need to rethink how I deal with that.
The change has to be internal, not dependent on external factors.
At this stage, I don’t yet know how to do that.
But I know I cannot ignore it.