Okay, so, it has been nearly seven months since I quit smoking….and I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting off urges and thoughts to smoke. It’s exhausting. The physical part of my stupid addiction is over. Nicotine has left the building….but the mental part, ooohhh, the mental part…
I think about smoking a lot, I wish I’d never started in the first place but I can’t change the past. I really do miss certain aspects of smoking like; the sense of relief and satisfaction that comes with the first drag; rewarding myself with a smoke after completing a task; having a smoke to calm my nerves; etc…
I ask myself daily, “how much longer can I keep this up? How much longer can I fight off my urges and desire for a cigarette?” Even as I’m writing this, I’m debating on grabbing a pack and putting an end to my suffering. The devil on one side whispering promises of relief, and the angel on the other side reminding me of the benefits of not smoking.
I was able to send gifts to my grandchildren for Christmas and birthdays, I was able to help my kids and a couple of friends a little bit financially. If I was still smoking, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that. But boy, do I miss it.
I admit I have had a few cigarettes along the way and each time I think it kind of rekindled the romance. It’s like a catch twenty-two, my mental craving got so bad I caved in, which in turn, kind of reset my brain’s addiction
So, what’s a girl to do? Soldier on, I guess is the best way to put it. Becoming a smoker again would create way more problems than it would solve. It would cause problems with my partner, with my meagre income would mostly go towards cigarettes, my health would deteriorate faster than a non-smoker, etc… Time to repeat my mantra: nothing good comes from smoking.
My Phoenix Rising 