I was scared to death. I had been smoking way too long to live through withdrawals.
What is it about quitting that just scares the hell out of us? Maybe we’re frightened of the unknown. What will I do with my time? I’ll have to get a hobby. Do we think withdrawal will be painful? Are we afraid that our friends will shun us because we’re not cool anymore? Are we reluctant to admit that we’ve really been causing ourselves a slow painful death, that we’re too hardheaded to confess to others that we are actually mortal human beings & subject to the afflictions just like our mothers, fathers, siblings & friends that we’ve watched die? Or do we not want our friends & co-workers to see us whimpering like abused animals because we just don’t think we can do it?
I say all of the above & even more
There comes a day when we just give up. We’re tired of making excuses & we’re fed up with stealing time from loved ones to feed our addiction. We finally admit that our smoking is not only a problem for us, but others as well. We’re tired of being sick & missing out on events that we should be enjoying. We’re done with making plans around our smoking. We’re nauseated by the smell of our own personal environment.
There comes a day when we have to find our own way, to meet our fears head on & cast them aside like so much chaff.
No one can do it for us, but we don’t have to do it alone. Make the commitment, you will not be sorry.