"Who wants to go through withdrawal again?" I think to myself as I reach for it. My husband left his out on his desk, and the temptation while cleaning on a Saturday was intense. Surprisingly intense. He'd lost his job yesterday, and I knew money was going to be tight again. Too tight. Trying to combat the thought, I took my dog on a walk and sliced an apple for a snack. It was still calling to me.
"Stop romancing that thing. It's death." The exercise hadn't taken away my thoughts on that solitary item on his desk in the basement.
Try as I might, the hard cleaning, laundry, crocheting, hot cocoa, and chewing gum I had used successfully for 3 months wasn't cutting it. I sat on the stairs to the basement and lit up with my contraband nicotine. Eating apple slices and reading on my phone, I destroyed my first quit with a few puffs.
Bracing for the headaches and nausea. Again.
Drinking decaf tea to combat the insomnia. Again.
Trust me. If you're in No Man's Land, don't throw away your hard work over a single weak moment.
If you do, you'll just have to go through withdrawal and start over.
So, here we are.
Day 3.
Again.
