I was doing so well.
I went four whole weeks and a couple of days. Granted, I spent every minute of those four weeks as a seething human cesspit of furious anger, ready to explode at any minute, but I didn't smoke. Sure, I alienated my whole family and most of my friends, got complaints at work and had people recoil from my rage filled glare on the sidewalks, but I didn't smoke. I honestly didn't know I had so much anger in me - I never think of myself as particularly cranky. Eccentric & crotchety, yes, in a lovably endearing way somewhat akin to a muppet, but angry? Never. Not me. I don't get mad much. But apparently the cigarettes have been keeping it at bay all this time and I just never noticed. My friend said, "You're a Southern woman. Of course you're full of anger; you just never let it out."
Still, I went around angry and handled it but I just wasn't prepared for every single craving to come back three score and worse about 48 hours ago. I don't know what happened - I honestly thought I had beaten the demon and then kaboom, all I wanted was a smoke and the craving just didn't go away. For 48 fucking hours, at which point I gave up.
Now I'm sitting here trying not to go to BJs for a pack. I want another one so bad. Damn. Damn damn damn damn damn.
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4 comments:
Yeah, that one month Ubercravemonster's a mighty, mighty bitch.
A month of smokelessness is worth celebrating, and let me know if you need any more fun non-smokey doodads.
The whole seething anger thing... I get you. Smoking has been my number one anti-depressant, anger mgmt. tool, and social lubricant. Now I have to do things like exercise. Blech.
thanks, screwy. I think I'm okay on the doodads so far and while, okay, I did smoke one cigarette yesterday, I kept it at one. Hopefully today will be smoke free. But sheesh, I did NOT expect a one month Ubercravemonster! I knew it was going to be tough, but I had forgotten just how tough. Argh.
You definitely should not be on beer fast too right now!
My very well-mannered, Southern Mom tells a trying-to-quit story where she actually ran down our street at 7:00 a.m. in her bathroom and slippers because she noticed some construction workers had started work on a neighbor's home and she knew she could bum a cig off one of the workers.
She did, eventually, quit completely about 10 years ago.
I thought I was going to go stark staring completely batshit insane today, the cravings were so bad, but somehow or other I got through the day and then they miraculously started to diminish around 4:30. I'm finding the only way around this is to totally promise myself that I'm going to smoke any minute now: I'm going to give up all this stupid quitting stuff and go smoke in just a second. . . and, weirdly enough, that works. For a while.
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