With one cigarette left still in the box sitting on my kitchen counter, my alarm clock wakes me and I make the decision to not smoke. It's a decision made on a whim and one that I've made in the past. The difference between now and the other times is back then I used to carry my cigarettes around with me "just in case". My "quitting" then would simply be cutting back. This time, that last lonely cigarette remains on the kitchen counter with the lighter, both untouched.My morning coffee and time out in the new back yard were hampered by thoughts of a nice long drag from that tobacco stick just 10 feet away, but I refused. I can do this this, I told myself. The self-help books my therapist had given me and the talks with him allowed me to learn the tools to be able to cope with the negative feelings associated with quitting. It was the physical addiction that was scaring me!
Day 2 (Thursday)
Awoke still smoke free. I thought I would have trouble sleeping since I went to bed last night thinking of smoking. I get out of bed and immediately head to the kitchen to make coffee. The cigarette pack is still there, right next to the coffee maker, the neon-green lighter resting on top. I spent the morning watching the news and preparing for a full day of sweating.
All I thought about all day was smoking. Work was kind of slow, making the habit that much more intolerable. When I finally did have someone in the store to talk to I realized that I was jittery and couldn't get a grasp on what I was actually talking. I swore up and down to myself that they probably thought I was the worst salesperson they've ever dealt with. After they left I looked in the mirror and was shocked at how red my eyes were. Now I realize they probably thought I was stoned.
After work, I went over to my friend's house to go swimming and to cool down in his house. I felt bad that I was forcing him to go out side to have a cigarette in his own house.
Day 3 (Friday)
STOP MOCKING ME, EMERGENCY CIGARETTE!!!!
Day 4 (Saturday)
The cravings are not subsiding. Sometimes I don't think about it, but when the feeling hits me, it hits with the force of a bullet, nearly knocking me off my feet. I take a deep breath, hold and let it out slowly. Then I snap the rubber band on my wrist and finally I start gnawing away at the pretzel logs I purchased yesterday.
A part of me (the evil part) is saying I made a mistake. The good me (learned optimism) is saying I have done this good for more than nearly 48 hours, that I've already saved almost $30 since Saturday and that it will get easier.
...the evil part is saying bullshit....go ahead and smoke...
