i have a weird feeling that there will come a time, a hapless stranger will stumble upon my blog and yell:
'quitter!'
well that was what my best bud erick told me when he first learned that i am stopping smoking - for good. he's just like that because he now knows he won't have 'company' when he takes his cancer breaks.
it has been 7 days and i have not touched a cigarette. no doubt, i think about it sometimes...but to actually not feel the need to put a ciggy between my fingers - that's definitely something else.
we all know that when we are trying to quit a vice, there are a couple of things we need to rid ourselves of:
first, the habit. second, the addiction.
okay...it was both a habit and an addiction to me. it was quite a love affair, actually.
my habit and addiction rescued me from desperation. it became my refuge when i was on my own and did not really have anyone to speak with. for some reason it felt like i was able to think through things better when i smoke. but now we all know that it is not true. i think that for most part, i was disillusioned that smoking presented comfort.
since i stopped smoking, i have been able to sit inside starbucks. i hated sitting inside the coffee house because my hot coffee isn't scalding anymore when it reaches my throat. anyway...it was cool to find myself on the other side of the fishbowl.
for a moment, i felt like i have become someone who might just be instrumental to another person's utter, debilitating boredom - i just watch people, i complain about how itchy my patch gets, i don't know if i would still be able to sport a mohawk without a ciggy and convince people that i am a rocker chick in my past life.
but...7 days later...i don't regret a thing. i am glad that i took the necessary step to preserving the little life i have left in my pixie-like body. who cares if my arms are immobile, who cares if i feel like half of my body is in catatonic schizophrenia (all because i cannot move too much when i have the patch on and because i feel like another being has taken over me)...at least i know that i am healing, and i have learned that no cigarette is ever safe...that yes, life is about making choices. it was a choice to try smoking, i got hooked, then a few years later, realized that the habit is more like an absent lover. it sucks all that is good in you and leaves you with nothing.
in the next few days, i might have to try restraining myself - but this time - only with willpower. i have asked nosh to not buy me patches anymore. i will keep everyone posted...to prove that i can make up my mind to do something - anything - and quit.
'quitter!'
well that was what my best bud erick told me when he first learned that i am stopping smoking - for good. he's just like that because he now knows he won't have 'company' when he takes his cancer breaks.
it has been 7 days and i have not touched a cigarette. no doubt, i think about it sometimes...but to actually not feel the need to put a ciggy between my fingers - that's definitely something else.
we all know that when we are trying to quit a vice, there are a couple of things we need to rid ourselves of:
first, the habit. second, the addiction.
okay...it was both a habit and an addiction to me. it was quite a love affair, actually.
my habit and addiction rescued me from desperation. it became my refuge when i was on my own and did not really have anyone to speak with. for some reason it felt like i was able to think through things better when i smoke. but now we all know that it is not true. i think that for most part, i was disillusioned that smoking presented comfort.
since i stopped smoking, i have been able to sit inside starbucks. i hated sitting inside the coffee house because my hot coffee isn't scalding anymore when it reaches my throat. anyway...it was cool to find myself on the other side of the fishbowl.
for a moment, i felt like i have become someone who might just be instrumental to another person's utter, debilitating boredom - i just watch people, i complain about how itchy my patch gets, i don't know if i would still be able to sport a mohawk without a ciggy and convince people that i am a rocker chick in my past life.
but...7 days later...i don't regret a thing. i am glad that i took the necessary step to preserving the little life i have left in my pixie-like body. who cares if my arms are immobile, who cares if i feel like half of my body is in catatonic schizophrenia (all because i cannot move too much when i have the patch on and because i feel like another being has taken over me)...at least i know that i am healing, and i have learned that no cigarette is ever safe...that yes, life is about making choices. it was a choice to try smoking, i got hooked, then a few years later, realized that the habit is more like an absent lover. it sucks all that is good in you and leaves you with nothing.
in the next few days, i might have to try restraining myself - but this time - only with willpower. i have asked nosh to not buy me patches anymore. i will keep everyone posted...to prove that i can make up my mind to do something - anything - and quit.
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