11.05.2004
Day 3
we have passed the 72 hour mark since the last cigarette. the last smooth, long satisfying drag off that long stick of rotten ass taste. there have been many addictions in my life that i have long since kicked, this being the last straggler. unless we count nail biting but i cant help that because its genetic cause bumpa does it too. so there. but the smoking? no fucking way. i cant. ive spent more of my life with a smoke in my mouth than not. but that says both that its time i quit and that i was a naughty 10 year old. theres always been a dozen reasons why i wanted to quit. ive wanted to for years. but as they say, it takes the 3 elements. ready, willing and able. and the able i was just not. not for the past 13 years, not at the moment i decided to quit. it was funny really. it was like 4 second window of opportunity opened that i had never had before. i knew if i didnt take it in that moment of strength, then i would still be smoking at 30. 40. 50. you get the point. so it was simple really. just like that. i dont think i want another cigarette. and that was it. and i didnt really tell anyone but the obvious live-ins, because it was like that '3 months into the pregnancy thing'. i wanted to wait to make sure it wasnt just a 'nonsmoker phase'. Day 1 was simple really. driving is the worst, so i avoided it and went on accordingly. Day 2, we are still pretending didnt happen. i didnt smoke, i didnt even want to really. but my body. oh my body was not nice. trust me, if you quit smoking your body will fall down and say to you 'fuck you and your cold turkey. you will sleep, a lot as punishment'. and this would be ok if it werent for the headache and the shivers/sweats and the TIRED. where did all this tired come from? but we got through it, without begging or screaming or kicking. in fact, i even overheard my mother tell angie 'youd be proud of your sister. and she isnt even being a bag of shit.' thanks mom for the support and encouragement. be nice or i may be forced to call you a bitch-monger again.
Day 3 Summary:
mood: shockingly even and non-confrontational
cravings: worse after meals or when asked if i needed a smoke yet (yes you heartless fuckers, and it wasnt nice 20 minutes ago either)
we have passed the 72 hour mark since the last cigarette. the last smooth, long satisfying drag off that long stick of rotten ass taste. there have been many addictions in my life that i have long since kicked, this being the last straggler. unless we count nail biting but i cant help that because its genetic cause bumpa does it too. so there. but the smoking? no fucking way. i cant. ive spent more of my life with a smoke in my mouth than not. but that says both that its time i quit and that i was a naughty 10 year old. theres always been a dozen reasons why i wanted to quit. ive wanted to for years. but as they say, it takes the 3 elements. ready, willing and able. and the able i was just not. not for the past 13 years, not at the moment i decided to quit. it was funny really. it was like 4 second window of opportunity opened that i had never had before. i knew if i didnt take it in that moment of strength, then i would still be smoking at 30. 40. 50. you get the point. so it was simple really. just like that. i dont think i want another cigarette. and that was it. and i didnt really tell anyone but the obvious live-ins, because it was like that '3 months into the pregnancy thing'. i wanted to wait to make sure it wasnt just a 'nonsmoker phase'. Day 1 was simple really. driving is the worst, so i avoided it and went on accordingly. Day 2, we are still pretending didnt happen. i didnt smoke, i didnt even want to really. but my body. oh my body was not nice. trust me, if you quit smoking your body will fall down and say to you 'fuck you and your cold turkey. you will sleep, a lot as punishment'. and this would be ok if it werent for the headache and the shivers/sweats and the TIRED. where did all this tired come from? but we got through it, without begging or screaming or kicking. in fact, i even overheard my mother tell angie 'youd be proud of your sister. and she isnt even being a bag of shit.' thanks mom for the support and encouragement. be nice or i may be forced to call you a bitch-monger again.
Day 3 Summary:
mood: shockingly even and non-confrontational
cravings: worse after meals or when asked if i needed a smoke yet (yes you heartless fuckers, and it wasnt nice 20 minutes ago either)
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