I never thought of myself as particularly helpless or weak-willed.  In fact, most people who know me will describe me as determined, sometimes almost to the point of single-mindedness.  Control freak has been used as a description more than once.  I like to be in control - of myself, of the situation, even of others on occasion.

I've never tried illicit drugs not out of some sort of a moral conviction, but out of sheer fear of losing control and being unable to regain it at will.

Willingly giving up control is different. I can and have done that, but finding myself without the ability to regain control is something I don't like to think about.  And so it's all the more galling that I can't seem to gain control over a habit I have.

I hate it.  I hate the sense that something is stronger than my determination.  There's no medication that can help, no X-step program, there's nothing except me and my utter inability to exercise the self-control necessary to stop doing it.

Why don't I just stop?  It's not because I can't.  I'm at least honest enough to admit that.  I don't stop because I don't have to.  I've overcome and conquered challenges before because I had to.  Because it wasn't a choice, it was a matter of survival at least on some level.  In this case, I should do it, I should kick the habit, but I don't have to.

And so I choose not to.