But after I lost my five-year-old daughter in a car accident, that is the only thing that keeps me alive. I never wanted to smoke, but it was something that I had to do. It was the only way I could cope with the pain and heartache of losing my daughter.
I tried to quit many times, but I always went back to it. Every time I lit up a cigarette, I thought of my daughter and how she was taken away from me so suddenly. It was my way of honoring her memory and keeping her alive in my heart.
I thought about the consequences of smoking and how it was slowly killing me, but I never cared. I was already dead inside. Nothing mattered anymore. I had nothing left to live for.
My family and friends tried to talk me out of it, but nothing could get through to me. I was beyond help. I was just a shell of my former self.
My daughter’s death had changed me forever. I was no longer the same person I used to be. I was a broken man, and smoking was the only thing that kept me going.