*I realize that I'm posting a lot today, but I feel like I need an outlet. So, this is it. Hope that's OK!*
It's been a little over two hours since I returned home after that fateful walk through the cemetery in the intense heat. Two hours since I smoked that last cigarette and felt the burning in my lungs and the tightness in my chest as I pressed on toward my goal to show myself exactly how I was making my body feel.
As I write this, I feel pretty good. I took a shower, and I sprayed myself with my favorite body spray. My breath doesn't stink, and I think my lunch even tasted better. That's probably a mental thing. But still...
I know that I can do this. I'm strong enough to overcome this addiction, and my time is better spent working and spending time with my kids than sneaking off to smoke. It's really not getting me anywhere, except closer to an early grave. I'm gonna press on!