I'm not sure that anyone will read these, and that's okay for me. I'm not here for comments, likes, etc. If I need advice, I'll ask :-). Instead, I've decided to document my daily struggles as I go through my quit. I don't really have anyone to talk to. My husband works third shift. I'm not seeking out cheerleaders and 'you can do it!'s. In between my writings, know I am reading the blogs and most are very helpful!
Since this is only my second blog post and EX is being wonky, it's worth noting that this is my 3rd day quit (9/1/18). I had cut it to the very edge of when I needed to quit for surgery.
Let's start this one off with how my before-quit went.
When I found out I needed to quit for surgery, I decided I was going to give it a trial whirl - if it stuck, great! If not, I had time to try again. Soooo, I failed. I quit for a week. And I didn't try again until I needed to quit (9/1/18). In fact, I smoked more than the pack a day I was used to, because I knew my quit was coming, and I was already mourning my future loss. This is still new to me, so I can't say I'm not still in mourning of what my addict brain thinks is the loss of a friend. I know this is a good thing.
After my trial quit, I had one cigarette one day. Then I had two, two days later. By a week after the day I'd had my first one, I was back up to a pack a day. All of August I was over a pack a day with no signs of slowing down. I chose the worst, most stressful week to quit smoking - mentally and physically.
I celebrated my birthday on Monday, the 27th. It was an emotionally exhausting week because of some familial issues that arose due to my being born 34 years ago. Then, I ended up with food poisoning on Saturday, the 1st. I actually smoked my last cigarette on the toilet. I'm very sad that's how it had to end.
But, I guess this opens up another chapter. A new chapter in a few of my books.
