For the third time in 4 months, and the 46th time in 15 years, I am attempting to quit smoking cigarettes for good. I am heading into Day 4, and life has never been better. I have absolutely no finger nails left and have started to chew the skin off where they once were, my eyes are swollen and pussy from hours of crying over completely unknown reasons out of nowhere, I bump into everything, my skin is crawling, I am a total bitch, I want to kill myself, I'm having nightmares, and there are babies crawling on the ceiling. Okay, so there are no babies crawling on the ceiling, but there might as well be. I feel like a fucking junky.
The thing is, I know I can quit, 'cause I've quit before. It was hard. It was horrible. I didn't like it one bit. I almost always started up again because of the depression and the moodiness. It's hard to go to work, or do anything, when you aren't sure if you are going to burst into tears at any given moment, for any given reason. This time though, I have no job. I don't live with anyone that smokes. My large social circle has shrunk to a small triangle. My funds are limited. I am living somewhere where smoking truly is frowned upon. I can feel my body getting older, and I know that not smoking will help me feel better. I have a nicotine inhaler that sometimes helps me get through those nic-fit moments. (Although I have considered just eating the nicotine tablets...yes, I know that would kill me, but I think it might help.) I have a husband who not only puts up with all of the above withdrawal "symptoms", but hugs me, and understands me, and tells me positive things. If he wasn't here...well, if he wasn't here, I'd be going and buying a carton of cigarettes, and just giving up on myself.
Anyways, so it's been hard so far. I wish I could be like all those bazillions of people out there that quit smoking and it was so freakin' easy for them, they put their mind to it, and never even craved it again. At most, it took three days, and then they were running marathons and chairing the lung cancer association. They all hate smokers now, and pity us, and goddamn do they get on my nerves, but I wish this could be easy for me too. I really do.
I know that I cannot drink alcohol if this is to work out, and it's a good thing drinking isn't really part of my life since moving away. ( I have had TWO beer since leaving Regina. ) Alcohol lowers my inhibitions, and is the reason I started up again last time. There is nothing better in my mind than having a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes, and that truth is sick and twisted. There has got to be something better in life, and I need to figure that out. I'm hoping that this trip away from everything and everyone will help me clear my head and help me figure out a healthy way to make myself happy. To be happy, and not have to reward myself for being happy with drugs and alcohol. If I am to drink, or even have the occasional cigarette, it should be as a treat to myself, not a damn lifestyle.
Cigarettes have been a part of me since I was 16 years old. When I started smoking, I stopped cutting my hands and arms up when I was upset. When I quit smoking, the first thing I think of doing when I'm nic-fitting is hurting myself to distract myself. It's scary. I feel like I lost my best friend. My bad-influence, unhealthy, loser best friend, that I loved despite all her flaws. Everything I have ever done has involved cigarettes in one way or another, and it's hard to change your whole way of life...to change yourself, overnight. Or it is for me anyways. I'm not all that strong when it comes to looking after myself.
For now, I'm just going to try and chew on something other than my fingers, keep a roll of toilet paper near to wipe the tears, and hope this passes, or at least diminishes a little bit sometime before I'm old and gray.