Days non-smoking: 4 (not counting today)Cigarettes not smoked: 43
Pieces of gum chewed: 18
Relatives visited to stave off smoking freakouts: 4 (6, if you count their spouses)
Freakouts had anyway, despite relative intervention: 2 (plus a minor one last night after Ben fell asleep, because I accidentally banged my nose into his forehead trying to kiss him good night and it really hurt)
Minutes spent sobbing: 100 (or so)
So, the not smoking isn't going as well as I had hoped, but I am still NOT SMOKING, which is the main goal. The main side effect of not smoking, for me at least, appears to be sleeplessness (which aids in ease of freakouts) and depression, to the point where sometimes I literally get sad that I can't smoke, as if never smoking again were on par with never seeing my cat again, which it totally is not, considering my cat is good and fun and cute, and smoking makes me talk like Bea Arthur.
Ben is doing much better than me, and even that contributes to my freakouts. While I am threatening entire nations with my wrath unless I get a cigarette right now (Namibia, you bastards, I don't care if Brangelshiloh are there, I am COMING for you unless someone hands me a Parliament light!), Ben is calmly playing video games or watching movies or planning outings to prevent me from actually enacting my fiendish plans. And I had fully expected that I would just wake up and NOT SMOKE, and it would be easy and would be a garden-fresh winner. That's what happened the last two times, but I think in the back of my mind, both times I knew I wasn't REALLY going to quit smoking.
But oh, well. I am still a non-smoker, and, to bring the freakout level back down to low, I went shopping and bought a ton of new clothes, which are cute and fit me (until I quit the patch and my metabolism plummets and I gain a million pounds and meld to my couch). But until them, I am cute, I smell good, and, as Daisy pointed out, I will not have weird mouth wrinkles when I get older. All good things, and yet, I will still fistfight you for a cigarette right now. Luckily, there's no way I can ever win, so my non-smoking streak should remain intact.
3 pipers piping:
I just wanted to comment in support of your endeavor...Go Kim! I was a sobbing mess in Lula's for 9 monthes. Every time midnight rolled around I started to feel like cutting off someone's arm, taking their cigarette and fleeing to Mexico was an excellent idea. You can do it. Just don't go to Lula's.
Tell yourself, "Neil Diamond wouldn't want me to smoke." Tell yourself, "Paul McCartney wouldn't want me to smoke." And most importantly, tell yourself, "Colin Firth wouldn't want me to smoke." Or punch me and make me take you to the drive-thru gas station to get cigarettes.
YOU CAN DO IT! Just don't get scared...scared of being alone.
Also, I must say that I think Phillip Morris sponsored the word verification. They obviously don't want me to able to post this comment in support of your quitting
Be strong. Unlike me.
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