Have you ever dreamed that you had smoked or were smoking? That's exactly what happened to me last night. First of all, my sleep has been very disjointed this past week as I cope with withdrawal, but then I had a dream in which I was at work, and had a major conflict with one of my co-workers, with whom I never have any conflicts in the waking life. In the dream I was so stressed out that I thought, "That's it. I'm just going to go home and smoke." It felt so real, so reminiscent of reality, that I startled myself awake as I felt myself fall from grace, the same way I'd wake feeling myself falling over a cliff. My lungs felt heavy, as if I'd just had a few cigarettes.
I drifted back to sleep, moving in & out until my alarm went off at 7 a.m. to get me going for a 9 a.m. yoga class. As I was walking to class, I noticed that my lungs had gone into heavy purge mode, starting to dispose of unneeded mucus now that my lungs are on the way to healing. I remember this part of quitting, and it sucks, because I almost feel the same draining guilt that I would if I'd smoked...but I have a firm grip on where I am, and why I'm here...and that what's ahead is glorious.
Even though I felt icky with the lack of sleep, I really wanted to make the morning yoga class because my favorite teacher was teaching, and so I had a really strong, engaged class. Afterward, she stopped me on the way out to tell me that she was happy I came, and gave me an energizing hug. Between that and all the amazing affirmation I've received here in the first week of my quit, I feel relief and optimism despite the struggle to adapt.
I came home afterward to get some errands done, putting the literal and proverbial house in order. Maybe I will take a second class later today, but I definitely will be setting some time aside to nap. Sometimes the time you spend exercising can be just as important as the time you allow yourself to not exercise.
Also, I'm going to text my co-worker today to be assured that we're still friends.