Those who may be following me or having read some of my other blog posts know this quit has been an ongoing struggle that - from my perspective - seemingly has yet to abate in its agony.
I had a revelation in the form of a dream where I gave in and smoked. Since then my resolve to not smoke has been rock solid.
Unfortunately, the symptoms related either to withdrawal, anxiety, or both are as bad today as 31 days ago. I'm 5 days into an antidepressant (Lexapro) hoping that will give some relief in "3 to 6 weeks." Today though, although I'm sure I'll receive congratulations on one month smoke free...I don't feel like there's any cause to celebrate.
I don't have any desire to smoke, but I hate, hate, HATE how I've felt and continue to feel since 1 hour after that last blasted cigarette.
3PM and it's all I can to do lay in bed writing and trying to distract myself from the vice grip clamping down around my chest.
Deep breaths, cold water, long brisk walks. Useless.
Sorry for always sounding miserable but hopefully things will turn and I'll have documented proof that when I get past this, never ever go back. Too hard to do it all over again.