It’s day eleven and I feel like I’m ready to explode. Not only am I still dealing with withdrawals from smoking but I have a surgery coming up which has been stressing me out (Finally A Date). It’s a little overwhelming.

I want a cigarette so badly that I feel a little angry and resentful towards my partner for insisting I quit. I’m confident I will one day thank him but today is not that day. He’s aware of how I’m feeling right now and that I am blaming him for my withdrawals. I’m aware of how ridiculous that sounds.

It’s a crazy addiction and so far I’ve been strong but I feel like I’m on the edge of saying “fuck it” and buying a pack of smokes like I have so many times before. I really want that sweet relief of inhaling the smoke and deeply exhaling, like a big sigh. Giving in would give me some relief in the very short term but I would end up feeling like crap.

There are a few reasons I would feel like crap; I did promise my insisting partner that I would quit over a year ago; I get short of breath with any kind of physical exertion; I wheeze slightly when at rest.

I know logically it is best for me to stay the course, it’s really fucking hard.

I finally have a date for my pubovaginal (bladder) sling surgery and put an end to my stress incontinence. I have a mixed incontinence issue which means I have accidents due to a sudden intense urge or if I cough or sneeze. Some women opt to simply live with it but I can’t. Every accident brings to mind my mother’s voice calling me names, and spanking me. Needless to say, having accidents holds a very negative connotation for me.

I have high hopes for this surgery. I had one years ago but it was a different kind of sling which has now basically come to the end of its life. That sling saved me ten years of embarrassment and humiliation. It eliminated my incontinence altogether. This next sling will be fashioned from my own fascia instead of using a plastic one, which I think will be better.

The date is coming up fast and I’ve got a lot of anxiety mixed in with the excitement. I feel like the high level of anxiety has to do with my mastectomy and reconstruction surgeries twenty-seven years ago. I’ve had other minor procedures in those twenty-seven years but I didn’t understand where the anxiety came from. Working with my therapist, I discovered that the mastectomy and reconstruction process were more traumatic to my system than I thought.

So here, in this one surgery, I am addressing my incontinence nightmares, and experiencing PTSD symptoms. It feels almost overwhelming so I try to think about how good it will feel to not have to worry if people can smell me; if they know my dirty little secret; to not have to worry about having major accidents while I’m out, and I start to feel a little better.

I need this surgery, and for it to be successful, for my mental health, however, the anticipation and anxiety aren’t doing my mental health any favours as I wait. And as if I didn’t have enough to deal with, I am also quitting smoking and it’s early in the process. I want a cigarette so damned badly.

Since my last entry on the subject I have continued to smoke as per usual, until a couple of days ago, that is. That’s right I’m making yet another attempt to ditch this awful addiction. This time I’m using the patch along with lozenges and a Juul vape. So far, I haven’t needed bail money but it’s still early in the process.

I hate that I ever started smoking and have been a slave to this addiction for over forty years. When I started smoking it was to rebel against my parents and to assert my independence from them. Now it’s a monkey on my back that I’ve struggled to shake for so long.

I’ve got the nicotine addiction covered with smoking cessation aids but I’m going to have to give those up too, eventually. My strategy is to get rid of one thing at a time; first, the cigarettes; then the Juul; then the patch; and finally the lozenges.

The mental obsession is a little trickier to navigate. My mind has told me I’m not strong enough to beat nicotine; that maybe I don’t really want to quit, I’d rather sneak around; and there’s the almost inevitable weight gain.

Oh, I sincerely hope I don’t gain more weight, I’m already bigger than I have ever been in my life. I was always a medium size and now I have to shop for x-large to plus sizes. It really sucks, especially since I already suffer from body dysmorphia.

Yeah, I’ve had some pretty stupid reasons to hang on to this stupid addiction.

I rolled into my hometown a couple of days ago and already I’ve reconnected with an old friend and visited with my youngest daughter and granddaughter, and both went exceedingly well.

It’s been almost ten years since my friend and I last spoke, he stopped speaking to me because of my former partner, who was an asshole to him. And, I mean, how do you tell your close friend that you can’t stand the person they’re in a relationship with? It’s possible I would have stopped speaking to him. It was good to put that behind us and catch up, now we can stay in touch.

I met my daughter and granddaughter at the mall. My granddaughter wanted to spend her birthday money so we went to the toy store and and department store (toy section, of course). I’m glad our visit was in public and away from my daughter’s cultish friends, who were at the birthday party last week, by the way (I guess I dodged that bullet).

It was fun watching my granddaughter shop. There were some big decisions to make on what to spend her money on so she took her time and made sure she really wanted something before she bought it.

My daughter and I avoided talking about any painful stuff from last year. Instead, we caught up and had a pretty good time. I didn’t notice her scrutinize me in the way I feared, there were no accusations and I kept up my end of the bargain by not using cannabis. We even talked about a visit at her home before I leave. I felt hopeful that she may soon start speaking to me on a more regular basis. The second visit didn’t materialize due to scheduling conflicts and I had already bought my ticket for home so I couldn’t extend my stay.

I visited with my parents and eldest daughter. I hadn’t seen my parents since before the pandemic and I’ve spoken to them very little for the last couple of years, ever since my dad and I had a terrible fight. My eldest daughter and I have only spoken a few times since last year but that is just because of busy lives. I was so happy to see her.

I was a little nervous about seeing my parents. There’s still a lot of wounding there and was afraid I’d just break down in tears. I worried my nervous system would go into overdrive and just take over. How I feel about my parents is complicated, to say the least, and how I felt about seeing them was just as complicated. I still think about the fight with my father; my childhood and its scars and it all still has the power to produce tears.

The visit went well, I managed to keep myself regulated by sticking to general topics and not getting too personal. My dad didn’t stay long, he had to take care of some business but he appeared to be happy to see me. He’s still busy with the sod farm.

When it was time to leave, my daughter drove me back to my friend’s place. I managed to hold back my tears until I reached my destination and even then I only shed a few. It was hard seeing how much my parents have aged. I noticed how much they’ve slowed down, especially my mother. This was not the same woman who hurt me so deeply as a child. She was frail by comparison.

All in all I managed to achieve my goals of keeping myself and my nervous system regulated while visiting family; spending time with my granddaughter; and reconnecting with a couple of dear friends.

A few days ago my partner worked from home because he wasn’t feeling 100%. He had a scratchy throat and didn’t feel like eating much. His symptoms worsened slightly; and I developed a headache and a feeling like I was coming down with something. Given that I’m over fifty I had to book a PCR test which meant missing my granddaughter’s big double digit birthday. I really wanted to be there for her but it was better to be safe than sorry.

I haven’t seen my granddaughter or youngest daughter in a year and I miss them terribly. There’s been little communication between us because of a big falling out a year ago. I’m disappointed that I cannot be there for my granddaughter or to lay groundwork for reconciliation with my daughter.

I’m also a little relieved because I don’t have to face the unknown with my daughter right away. I’ve felt very trepidatious over this trip. I made plans for dealing with any triggers that might come up but my anxiety didn’t seem to care, and it’s still been pretty high. Since facing my daughter has been postponed I have more time to prepare myself mentally.

As it turns out I caught some kind of bug but it isn’t Covid. I’m on the mend and rescheduled everything for this coming weekend.

My granddaughter is hitting the double digits on her birthday this year and I have arranged to be there for the big day. As joyous an occasion as it is, I am approaching the trip with a certain amount of trepidation.

I haven’t seen or spoken to my daughter in about a year, since we had a blow up just days before my granddaughter’s birthday. There have been a few text messages sporadically over the last year but that’s it.

I worked with my therapist to identify some specific areas of concern. My whole life I’ve been accused of things I didn’t do and so I find it very triggering. I agreed to not use cannabis (THC) during my visit and I worry I will be accused of doing so. I worry that my daughter’s scrutiny will set me off and I’ll lose my shit like I did last year. I also don’t want to be snide in general due to my own hurt feelings.

I anticipate that my daughter will closely scrutinize me and I need to figure out ways to stay regulated through it all. I will need to remind myself that my daughter is doing whatever she needs to do for herself; it has very little to do with me or how honest I am. But what if she vocalizes an accusation? How will I tolerate that particular trigger? The only thing I could do is stand by the truth which will be that I am not high. I can’t make her believe me so walking away without a major confrontation might be my only option.

Whether or not I’m snide with her is completely within my control. Behaving in such a way would be counterproductive. It would only serve to drive a deeper wedge between my daughter and me. I’ll need to keep a solid grip on the hurt me that wants to lash out, but how? I’ll need to pay special attention to my tone and the words I choose. I’ll need to ask myself if my behaviour is helpful or harmful. I will have to check in with my vulnerabilities; did I get enough sleep; what is my pain level; am I hungry; what is my overall mood? Taking care of any vulnerabilities will help control impulsive behaviour.

I could make all kinds of assumptions about why she still isn’t talking to me, for instance; maybe she is punishing me; or she doesn’t want me to be a part of her and my granddaughter’s lives; or her crazy cultish evangelical friends are influencing her to stay away from me because I insulted them. I could drive myself crazy ruminating and trying to figure it out. The best thing I can do for myself is stick strictly to the facts. The fact is that she told me back then, when we had our fight, that she had to distance herself from me as evidenced by the lack of communication from her. I don’t have any other facts, just assumptions.

Well, the date for my trip is fast approaching, wish me luck! I’ll write about how I make out.