Thanks to everyone for your care and concern yesterday. My doctor cut my dosage in half, and I am going to stay on it, unless I have side affects again. That was a scary two days. Next time I see her I'm going to let her know how many of you also had problems being on it. This is day 9 for me. I feel the best that I have in a month! I talked to my son yesterday - who lives 100's of miles away. He congratulated me on "trying to quit." I told him I'm not trying - I quit May 1. I"m done with it.
Spoken like a noble and naive newbie, eh? It's certainly easier to help a craving along as it passes through me when I can distance myself from it. "Don't get comfortable. I'm not listening to you today."
Thanks Izzy! I am quitting - no excuses and no going back. I'm 60; it way past time.
If this is anxiety, not a serious side effect, I'll find a way a to deal with it. I wonder if 8 days if far enough along to go off the bupropion anyway... not feeling all that strong at the moment. Congrats to you on 12 days! I'll talk to my doctor tomorrow - I think you just got me through till then. J
Yesterday and today have been rough. I have been taking buproprion since April 11, and really think/thought it was helping with my quit. This is day 8 for me! Several days ago my heart begin to feel like it was pounding, and I felt like I was having an anxiety attack. I thought it was just part of the quit for me - I had an panic attack after my first 3 hours of quitting. Since last night, the pounding heart has been virtually constant, and I'm a little scared.
I cut my dose in half today, and will talk to my doctor tomorrow. Any one have any experiences llike this? I feel like I'm could start hyperventilating any minute. I did talk to my pharmicist, and she didn't seem overly concerned. I think I'm just looking for a some reassurance.
This is a landmark day in this house. At the end of today, I will be quit one week. I can imagine looking back on it, in horror and in pride. Like having emerged from the looking glass. I’m just talking tobacco here! “Just.” Common little, handy little killing device. Self mutilation. Self destruction. The thought of going through this week again (because I would have to quit or die) is one perfect reason to stay quit. I’m not sure I would survive it again. The thought of it makes me
want to laugh, and dance, and sing… freedom! I will always be a nicotine addict. I will always have to consciously choose not to smoke. So, that’s all you want of me? I can do that. I know I can do that. One day, one minute, one urge at a time. With help.
All of you who are ahead of me – thank you. I hear you better now. When someone says “I quit ten years ago” or “I quit because of _____,” I now want to roll up my sleeve and show them my spotless arm. No tracks on me, either. And if there’s someone out there who is thinking about quitting or of coming back to their quit, just hear this and nothing more: you’ve got a great voice. Sing.
This is a landmark day in this house. My husband, who has been out of work for 10 months, starts a new job next Tuesday. Ah, man, he is so cool. And he’s so excited. I’d like him to come and blog to you himself, so you could meet him. But he doesn’t need to quit smoking – he’s never been a smoker. This is a second marriage for both of us, and we’ve been married 17 years. How did I get so lucky? By saying “I can do that.”
Day 4. Still doing pretty well, except for not sleeping. I must have gotten at least, what - 3 hours? I lay in bed and thought up new strategies for dealing with cravings. Here's one I call "triple A." Acknowledge it, animate it, annihilate it. Here are a couple examples:
1. How big are you? You are small. You are a cockroach sneaking out of the dark. I'm not afraid of you. I am going to step on you and pick you up with a tissue and throw you in the toilet.
2. How big are you? you are big. You are an angry gorrilla stomping around with your fists clenched. I am not afraid of you. I am going to stomp around, too, with my fists clenched, and yell "I don't want a cigarette!" until YOU go away.
3. What are you doing here? You are here to seduce me. You look over your bare shoulder at me and say, "just one more time, Baby, for old time's sake." I'm not afraid of you. I lead you out onto the hotel balcony and push you over the railing into the pool below. Which is full of mucus from my diseased lungs, you creep.
The first day wasn't SO bad. I made it. Today I face the drive to work - I always smoked when I drove - and the smoking breaks, where I used to hang out with other smokers where I work. There were only a handfu of us out of maybe 50 people in our building; a small group of comrades connected by smoke.
Today, there will be one less in the group. And when I've gotten a little more time between me and my last cigarette... opps, scrap that thought. Today, this is for me. I am quitting for me.
p.s. This is the first blog of my life. I don't read 'em, and I've never written one. I've always thought that self absorbed ramblings are quite boring.
I've kept lots of journals Is a blog like a journal you share with others? I don't think it is, completely. If I were to ramble through my fears and joys and regular daily muck, I'm sure it would be much like your own. That is, not all that interesting, and not helpful to anyone, especially me.
Right now, getting ready for day 2, I realize this blogging is a way to join a community. Doesn't have to be schmucky. I'm good to try it.