Okay, so even the even-day writing schedule I was keeping up sort of fell to the wayside for a couple of days there. The reason for this is because days nine and ten -- the latter to a lesser extent -- were actually kind of touchy days, and I didn't get much done; let alone this blog.
Mush. The best way I could describe it, is mush. It's like everything turned to mush for a few days there. My resolve, my clarity, the upshoots of energy sparkling off my fingertips of late ... all mush. It was almost beginning to feel like I felt exactly the same before I started smoking (read: so what's the big difference now?). Of course I read through that, but the feeling was still there. It felt like 'this was it' -- the exact same, except I "couldn't" smoke, and supposedly I'd be healthier, or sumthin'. Blech.
I watched the feeling sort of half-amused (half-concerned, of course), hoping that it was just another whimsy. I was getting close to day ten, and even closer to the habit-breaking point of 21 days-ish. No doubt my brain is going to use itself to relight the pilot on the status quo. I'd have to be on the watch for that.
Plus, I'm engaging in a number of new habits and the breaking of many old here, as well. There are lots of things going on at once, and lots that my brain (I'm sure) would want to keep just the way it was. And for such a brilliant instrument and organ -- for a near-sentient part of sentience that understands itself better than I can understand it, using it ... an organ that intrinsically knows how to unravel strands of DNA and fold them back together again, like a map --
-- it doesn't know what the hell it's talking about.
It lives and survives on the primal; the biological machine. Primal intelligence is about brilliant survival -- the cortex of habit and consistency. Change is death; complexity thrives only in that which supports the congruence of the same. So I guess in a way, it's not near-sentient. It's habitual. But I am the driver, the Navigator; I'm at the wheel here. And what is it about the primal and pure intelligence, anyway? Funny how those two are always roommates, no? Yeah. Yup.
So yah; day twelve. Well after a bit of sluggishness and laziness on my eleventh day, I cleaned up a bit today and made sure I stayed on track with everything. I even made my bed before I started the first part of floor routine (told ya', looooots of stuff in play over here, lol). Had only one, maybe two cravings today. So small I didn't even notice them. One happened at some point when I was obviously coughing up phlegm. Probably some old cigarette stuffing in the lungs there sparking off an old taste deep in the throat, somewhere, if I recall correctly. It was odd. Sort of caught myself in full blown consideration, and then thought: "Whaaaaat? Really? No. That was weird." Another was a time-filler, and more of a thought but slightly more commanding than the cough-memory. They were easily surmountable, in this case. I'm glad that that's all they are now: thoughts. I haven't fought the real urge to go running out and restart my nicotine addiction since day, well ... day 'a long time ago, now'.
Starting to regain the voice, or at least control of the voice. It's like I have too much oxygen; too much breath. Find myself looking for the steepest inclines to walk up both to and from a destination. Find myself glad that I endured a couple of days of discomfort for this -- the feeling that I'm quite okay, without. Something that only makes sense on the other side; it's true.
One week, four days, 22 hours, 31 minutes and 47 seconds. 238 cigarettes not smoked, saving $53.72. Life saved: 19 hours, 50 minutes.
