QUITTING

For years now I’ve put off quitting smoking.  I quit cold turkey when I found out I was pregnant with Alex, but started back up shortly after he was born.  It was as if my craving neurons knew I could smoke again without guilt and kicked into high gear.  Obnoxious high gear.  So, I just told myself I would quit when I was good and ready.  It had to be for me, not because something or someone was making me.

Let me start by saying it is a huge decision.  It sound so ridiculous to admit that.  However, it’s true. Once I started having a list of health issues come up all seemingly at once, I decided I might as well get myself prepped for quitting.  What sense does it make to get my insides healthy if I’m just going to continue polluting them?  Sort of silly.  I asked my doctor for Wellbutrin to help me on my path.

I’m 4 days into being smoke free.  Four miserable days.  The medication did it’s job by dulling the cravings significantly.  A few days into the medication, I realized I was having frequent headaches.  Debilitating headaches.  I wasn’t surprised the meds were the cause.  Today is my first day in nearly 3 weeks I am not taking the drug.  To be totally honest, it doesn’t feel any different...sans headache.  So I guess that would make it better.

Today I have worked VERY hard at not heading to the store to grab a pack.  I even went to the store to pick up some other stuff and I completely avoided the temptation.  Therefore making the trip to the store a success.  Ridiculous that I have to play these kind of mind games with myself, but seriously, I’m actually making headway.

Last night was the hardest yet.  The majority of my smoking habit took place after sun down and the kids were in bed.  It was ‘my’ time.  Now that I don’t have that set me time, I’m restless.  I’m playing excessively on my iPad and doing my best to keep my head and hands busy.  My irritability is intense.  I’m working tirelessly at keeping my mouth shut.  I’m no saint, so yes, I snap a little bit.  But the irritability is the equivalent of hearing someone scratch cat’s claws down a freshly cleaned chalk board.  Everyone in my house is lucky I’m not screaming at the top of my lungs sporadically.  I guess that’s the perspective I wish them to take.  While it’s easier said than done I am drifting into a smoke filled room at least once an hour in my brain and basking in the thing I’m depriving myself of.  SMOKE!

I know this is the best thing for me to do.  I know what smoking does to my skin, lungs, hair, nails, breath, teeth, etc.  But man do I enjoy it.  A couple times I’ve said aloud, “I just want one.  Just one.”  Knowing good and damn well that would be the biggest lie.  That one would instantly turn into a few, then needing to buy a pack.  Lying to myself is absurd.  

Even as I am writing this, my innerds are clamoring for a cigarette.  I’m reminded of a Chantix commercial about a guy sitting on a dock repeating to himself aloud, “Cigarette.  Cigarette. Cigarette.”  Suddenly a huge great white shark leaps out of the water and latches onto the man’s leg.  Uninterrupted, the man repeats his mantra.  After a few more iterations, he realizes a huge shark is eating his leg and he then reacts accordingly.  It’s actually pretty funny.  But holy crap is it something I can now relate to.  The catch phrase or tag line was, “Quitting sucks.”  AMEN!