There are times when this quit sucks. There are times when "life is tough and the I need that smoke" becomes a mantra. There are times when you just want to lose yourself in that blue smoke again - just because you can. That is when, you reach out for the person you trust the most. For the helping hand, for the kick in the ash or for the reaffirmation that you are going to be OK. I was reminded today that being alone in this quit is not a smart thing to do. I was reminded today that reaching out for support is OK and not a sign of weakness. I was reminded today that giving and receiving is part of the healing. And, above all, I was reminded today that good people - amazing people - are still out there if you know where to look and are lucky enough to meet them. I was. After 319 days of online friendship and support, I was lucky enough to meet my quit partner: Impalamania. It is so good to be able to share emotions and experiences and look back together with someone that knows exactly what you went through.

I know it has been said before. Get a quit buddy. It makes a difference. We are addicts. We need mentoring. We need a go to person. All the support you are given here is amazing. And there are so many people ready to extend their hands and welcome you to the better side of breathing. Take that support. Accept that helping hand. And you have a better shot at making this quit, the final quit.

As for you, partner, our pledge still stands - we keep this quit, buddy!

Cristina

 

 

I don't know what the deal is, but I am struggling lately to keep my resolve. On everything - smoking, weight, exercise, marriage... I am trying really hard not to just lay down and let life pass me by. For a change, the thought of just not doing a darn thing sounds like a blessing. I am tired of trying to change/support the world. I am tired of fighting my own urges and "be good" at all times... I am tired of being the responsible adult. I am just tired of it all.

I had a long talk with my mom the other day about one celebrity that chose to end her own life. She was married, had a 1yo baby. People thought she had it all. Still, at 43, she chose to commit suicide. And, of course, everybody and their dog have an opinion/judgment... Mom was worried, since I don't seem to talk much about what I am going through. The best way I knew how to calm her fears was to tell her the truth: I have two "pests" in my life that would haunt me forever - her and my daughter. My life don't belong to me - I have them two to worry about.

And as sad as this sounds, it is true - it is the responsibility of their well being that keeps me running in circles like a good little rat - work, home, chores, play nice with the other "kids"... But lately, even though I know all the reasons why I am fighting all these battles with myself... I am having trouble buying into it.

Smoking - it's BAD for me; I had such a hard time quitting and now it is way easier to stay quit than to start all over again; I set a good example for my daughter by sticking to it; I would let so many people down if I start smoking again; I would stink again, cough again, shortness of breath, diminished taste... you name it. But it would numb me enough to ignore everything around me.

Weight loss - I am so fed up with this thing. I feel like my body has no clue what is good/bad for it. I am tired of seeing no results or to see weight increase when I know I am not doing one darn bad thing... arghhhh. I miss foods that are BAD for me. I miss indulging in stuff I should not touch. But I do like looking in the mirror and seeing a slimmer version of myself. And clothes are definitely looking better on me than they were 7 months ago.

Exercise - this goes hand in hand with the weight loss. I am still exercising every day - usually is one of the Billy Blanks DVDs. In the afternoon I try to exercise at least every other day - Bowflex or walking or swimming. Still... If I don't exercise one day, regardless of what I eat, weight spikes, flabby shows up... Darn, you'd think that one day would not make that big of a difference - am I in on a short leash, or what???

OK, I know this is a lot of whining. No major issues, I agree... But, I notice that the endurance is the one that wears me down way more than anything else. The dude on the P90X had it right - you can do anything you put your mind to for 30 seconds... It's true. I've been good for more than 9 months on the smoking and more than 7 months on the exercise/weight thinggy... Can I just drop it for a while without paying the price??? Nope.

Meanwhile, I am still here. Still posting in my blog. Lurking in the shadows of SSC - not feeling like being in the spot light, right now. When I don't think what I have to say is good for the rest of the gang, I really don't feel like saying it "out loud".

By the way. I have 10,080 cigarettes not smoked as of today...

Cristina

This is another amazing post by Nonic on 7/11/10

 

Good day fellow travelers:

 

It breaks my heart to read through many of the posts here.  That is so because I hear the anguish and understand the pain that cessation's path requires.  For so long, as addicts, we played a game of hide and seek. When trouble came our way, when people's actions and unforeseen events sent daggers through our very souls and anger, rage and sadness cut us like a knife, we ran and hid behind that ever present thin blue veil. We metaphorically put our hands to our eyes, inhaled the vapors and swore no one could see us there.  And in many ways that was true. No one could see us there, because we internalized the pain we felt and eased its sting by bathing our wounds in a good old nicotine bath.  And we did in that way become invisible. 

 

However our invisibility also stripped us of our opportunity to confront the source of our indignation, our hurt, our sorrow our grief.  By rendering ourselves invisible, we lost a million chances to grow stronger in our own hearts. We let go our opportunity to forge a stronger bond between our internal world and the external world. We fell victim to the ageless fear of the forest.  We wrapped ourselves in the soft folds of addiction. We did not stand up for ourselves, we failed to practice gratitude for the life we have been given, we did not speak calmly to our aggressor, we did not reason with our partner, we did not address that which brought us so much pain.  And the world heard no more from us.

 

But where does the heart go when there is nowhere to hide?  The truth is that the heart needs no place to hide.  The heart (self), that which you know yourself to be requires no excuse for existing. You are the product of a gardener of vast skills.  You have a right to grow stronger, you have a right to seek the sun, to stand tall and be proud of who you are.  You are a living breathing creative being who has something to add to the cosmic conversation.  Do not silence yourself through self inflicted addiction.  When the heart has nowhere to hide it must grow stronger, it must gain the confidence that comes from accomplishing difficult tasks, it must grow in compassion because it already knows the sting of rejection.

 

Remaining addicted is tantamount to destroying the vessel (body) in an effort not to experience the soul (self).  Cessation is a chance to engage yourself, find new ways to deal with old problems.  It is a second chance.  Take hold of it today, tomorrow and on all your remaining trips around the sun. 

 

 

stay well

 

 

nonic             

I am riding the roller coaster of emotions all over again. Do I thrive when things are off balance or what??? I had a major blow out last night with hubby - we are back to the point when smoking decides what activities we do and when. HIS smoking. Well, I am aggravated enough ,so I don't really give a c#$! about what comes out of my mouth... So I did tell him exactly how I feel. Just the dry facts - the stench, the a nuisance, the coughing... the whole nine yards. Did not sit well with him.

Before I get stoned for these comments, let's remember how hubby's quit went. "Everything was OK, he did not have any problems, he did not need to go through all the patches... he just decided he will not smoke and puff... there he was, a new man" It did aggravate me at the beginning that he is not going through all the stuff I went through... But I did get over it. And I truly enjoyed our life as non-smokers. And now this... I still feel angry and betrayed. I still feel that he should have said something, not just give up... And yes, I do have moments when I do feel the "I'm better than you"... All these are wrong, and I know it. But that does not help.

I don't want to smoke. I don't miss it. But there is something luring about the darn blue smoke, isn't it? All I can say is that I will take it one day at a time again. And promise to find some sort of reward system.

Keep the quit

Cristina

Wow you have every right to feel let down - especially when you began your journey together.  But your great tenacity and strength will prevail provided you keep looking inside at your own reasons for quitting, same as you've done for nine months.  That nine months is so significant, because it really IS a birth into the new you and the life you were dreaming of when you put out that last cigarette.

 

You are so in tune with yourself and that knowledge is so very powerful.  Tighten your grip on it and squeeze.

 

My hubby has smoked the whole time since I quit.  I knew he wasn't planning to stop and wondered what it would be like to be married to a smoker while trying to stop.  I have 3-1/2 years in the bag now and can say that at the onset it was absolutely gut-wrenchingly terrifying; mostly because I was taking a running leap into such a great unknown, entirely on my own.  Not only had I been a smoker for 20 years, but my husband and I both smoked when we met, thus all our romance, joy, anger, sorrow for half a decade was dealt with/enjoyed with/faced with/hidden behind that cigarette in hand.  When it suddenly wasn't there, it was as if I had changed and he hadn't.  I desperately feared how our relationship would withstand the new feelings and expectations.  I found many of 'little irritants' in our relationship were actually pretty big problems for me - but mostly because I wasn't emotionally sturdy enough to address them without the smokes.  That new ability to speak up after years of not saying anything became an issue in itself.  I felt like the token 'nagging wife'.  I felt wrong for healing while he was still addicted.  I felt guilty for trying to take my life back.  These issues remain but every single day, he still smokes and I get stronger.  And we get stronger for it.

 

My point is that this 'you-don't-smoke-and-he-does' scenario is another phase of your relationship, one that you didn't expect and will have an impact on you both every day.  It is a twist in the tale you didn't see coming, but you must turn the page and keep reading this new story.

 

If you want to remain quit, you will find a way to make those differences work.  I suspect your husband may be a bit torn.  He'll certainly be feeling guilty for starting up again and wishes everything could go back to 'the way it used to be' and so that 'I'm alone in this' guilt would end.  But that was a past you've committed to leave behind and I'm sure he'd dislike it more if you were both smoking, whether he'd admit it when he's having that cigarette or not.

 

Bottom line?  Keep on thinking, keep on blogging, dig even deeper and hold fast to what you really want, not what you think would make it all easier.

 

Nothing worth having is easy to achieve.

 

x T

I will be OK. I will get my head around this. AGAIN. I will find my strength. I will find my focus. I will be OK.

But for now, this specific moment, IT SUCKS! I feel so disconnected from everything. I'm back to the point when all I wanted was sleep it off or cry it out. I am tired. I don't feel like doing this... Not again. But I must! It is my choice to stay quit... whatever the pain. I did not think that 9 months into my quit I would go through this much... Comes to show you that this darn addiction is so much in our minds... By now, except for the damage left behind, tobacco/nicotine is way out of my system. But the demon is STRONG, restless, mean, luring...

I hate feeling like this (have I mentioned it????). And every time I see hubby going out for a smoke, I get angry. If I were a dog I swear I would drool... But, I also am a firm believer that what does not kill you makes you stronger. This darn thing ain't getting me! I'm done smoking, I'm done... Whatever the price (now) the victory will (eventually) come to the ones that persevere... RIGHT?

I will save Todash's post to my wimpy crying... It was a wonderful, heartfelt encouragement. It hit home. ALOT!

And you, my friend... Thank you. As usually, your words mean a lot to me... Don't worry, my friend. I will keep my part of the pledge.

Keep the quit

Cristina

I am still smoke free. But I am still struggling at times with breaking the habit, the addiction, the "comfort" part that smoking brought to my life. I hate feeling like this. But I have discovered over the past nine months that I am a very disciplined person (with the good and the bad that discipline involves). I am fighting at times to keep my quit, but I take pride in the fact that, at the end of the day, I can say I have done it.

Yesterday, after months of suspecting that hubby smokes, he finally came clean and said he is "experimenting" smoking again. "nothing serious, but I really enjoy smoking every day... a few a day, not at work, not back to two packs a day... oh no, nothing like this." I tried to be supportive and told him that it is a personal decision and I will not try to convince him one way or another... He told me he has experienced "feelings of depression". So I have tried to tell him what I have learned here about the effects the Nicodemon has on our minds, what other people - me included- have experienced in their quit... But it did not make any difference - he was not listening. I went on with the evening and saw him going outside way more often than usually, back to the brushing teeth/chewing gum - I have a feeling he knew he cannot "hide" anymore so he had to come out and admit he is smoking.

So, here we are. I will be 9 months into my quit in a few days.
And now, last night I woke up with thoughts of smoking. I heard hubby "hacking" early this morning and grinned to myself saying - "I don't miss that!". But it hurts. I feel cheated, I feel like we were supposed to be a team in this... I feel like I should have done more to protect OUR quit. But, this is the emotional part of me. The rational one KNOWS that it is nothing I could have done to change his decision, that I need to get my thoughts straight and save MY quit... But I am struggling.

I will be OK - I think.

I will keep close to the boards here for a while...

Keep the quit

Cristina

Even though I though I read everything Nonic wrote... I guess I was wrong. I enjoy his writings tremendously, and this one here gave me a better understanding of where he is coming from

The Hall Of Fame

Recipient: nonic Quit Date: December 25, 2006 SSC August HOF Member Name: Nonic Quit Date: December 25, 2006 We’ve been rewarding our quitters with the Hall of Fame distinction every month since June 2001, and every one of these 73 success stories have been beyond honest, heartfelt and inspiring. They’ve also followed somewhat of the same format. The 74th recipient of the Hall of Fame distinction submitted their own story in their own format. We applaud Nonic’s creativity and inventiveness, and since we all quit in our own way, we invite future recipients to tell us their own story so we can publish it in a way that’s meaningful to them, and certainly others. But enough of us, let’s listen closely to Nonic: Somewhere around the age of 5 or 6 I had a vision, an experience. Intensely at play in a sandbox in my parents backyard, I suddenly fell into a state of what I now call, rapture. Staring at the grains of sand I felt at peace and I was still. Suddenly and with no effort on my part I was knew who and what everything else was. It was a state of total concentration that was absent of all concentration. I am sure at that age I would not describe the experience to you in such a fashion, but I have had a great many trips around the sun since then and sadly the experience is long ago. Perhaps that single unifying experience lies at cross-purposes to the mostly fragmented and diffused world I have experienced as an adult. One of the ways I found to unify my journey through the world was to fall in love with nicotine and depend on its ability to help me deal with the unavoidable inconsistencies of living as a human being. When I was 18 years of age I knew everything there was to know. There was something about a black tee shirt and a bright red pack of Marlboros tucked up in the sleeve. The effect highlighted the bicep and added a few grams of testosterone to ones perceived manhood. There was a magical component in having the ability to light a match with one hand, stoke up the smoke and do it all while carrying on a conversation with some equally confused female adolescent. I liked the whack, the buzz and the jingle that I got from those little joysticks. Having one of those sticks smoldering away at the corner of my mouth, while pouring over the likes of Sartre, Camus and Tillich seemed like the natural way of things. Just add in a cup of mud-thick black java and you were right there with Kerouac flying down route 66, howling in the night. The smoke drifting skyward on a hot, humid summer’s night seems now like an offering to the gods of my younger days. Besides, I knew everything there was to know; I was 18 years old. In a year I was a soldier. In this place I really knew what hot and humid meant. Smoking came along for the ride. I no longer carried my smokes on my sleeve, but in the band of a helmet. By this time I was a stone cold nicotine junkie. Not that I thought of myself as having a problem. No, I was dealing with other more immediate concerns. This is the time in my life when I began using nicotine as a self-medicating substance. Of course I didn’t know that then. What I did know then, was that I was plenty scared. I was scared for myself and equally fearful that I would do something that would cause harm to my comrades. This was a time that only a 20 something could endure. Fear kept you sharp. Fear kept you alert. Fear kept you alive. And in those days I remember only two states of being. On the one hand, the world was very, very loud and chaotic and on the other, it was extremely, intensely, densely quiet. I savored the latter, but lived off the adrenaline rush in the former. I smoked the fear down in the quiet times, resting in a nicotine dream but always restlessly anticipating the loud times. I wasn’t a very good soldier; but then again I was 20 years old. On returning to the States, I became a student. My former experiences had hardened me to the point that I found campus activities to be a bit frivolous. I was amused by all of the protestors and the professors. The students seemed to be mostly middle class and upper middle class kids whose families where footing the bill for their education. Most of them did not seem to have much of a sense of the realities of the world, as I knew them to be. I am still amused by one kid’s obsession with getting the administration to offer pass/fail options for all course work. “Wow that will stick it to the man”, I thought. And most of the professors seemed equally as ill informed about life. I imagined that living in a cloistered educational community with the sweet siren song of tenure made them soft timid souls with limited imaginations. In any case I always felt ashamed, alienated and endlessly amused there. So I continued to do the rational thing, I smoked two packs a day. Eventually they gave me a degree. I depended even more on my ever faithful friend’s at Phillip Morris. I was now a fully evolved “emotive” smoker. As I moved on in life, I handled all of my emotions, the good, the bad and the semi-rational by sucking down clouds and clouds of smoke. If I lost a job, no problem, I got my friends right here… broken heart, no problem I got my friends right here, death of a loved one, got my friends in my top pocket. I believed that a cigarette could make anything better. And that is just what the tobacco companies wanted me to believe. Bored….smoke, angry…smoke, hurt…smoke, happy…smoke… ”Just smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette”. Smoking for me was a way of unifying my experiences in the outer world with my internal way of being. And it is for that reason that I wrote about my experience with the sandbox. Maybe we are all trying to find our sandbox, and for some of us, smoking has been a way of soothing that bitter sweet longing while we live in this rather disjointed, cruel and sometimes seemingly meaningless world. In these years, the meaning of the sandbox has been turning into a desire to return home. In my younger years the quest was always outward. It took me to live and travel in many countries through out the world and a good number of cities in this blessed country. Now I am going home in a spiritual as well as a physical sense. For some unexplained reason, I have managed to retain a fairly high level of physical well being despite my addiction to nicotine. This is a blessing from God and a calling to use what I have been given to the greatest good. I am going home now and dealing with whatever life presents, sans nicotine.   Some times we all just have to waltz with the moon...   You've got to waltz with the moon sometimes, just to know that the suns gonna shine. For the bitter and sweet of it often meet when the sun rolls low in the sky   When the twilight is neither beginning nor end. When the world's turning round, starting over again shed a tear for the rose buried half in the snow and wonder where time goes... What motivated you to quit this last time? It was time. I have been blessed with good health despite my disregard for my body. I thought God needed some help keeping me in this world a little longer. What was different about this final quit? I knew I could quit at any time. At least that is the lie I made myself believe. I enjoyed the activity of smoking. It wasn’t that I had to smoke, no not at all, I wanted to smoke. And when I did try to quit on many, many occasions, I always returned, making up some excuse or other as to why I “wanted” to smoke. The junkie in me was alive and well, and speaking with the authority of a zealot. This time out, however, I admitted that I was a junkie. I shined a strong light on the meaning of addiction and read the foot notes. It said… nicotine is what it is. It cannot change. You are what you will yourself to be. You can change. I decided to change... What did you use or what techniques did you use to resist cravings? I use a lot of mind visualizations to fend off the cravings. For instance I will visualize what 2,000 cigarettes look like and realize that that if I keep going I will not have smoked them. When I run I visualize my lung capacity expanding... deep breathing is another effective device. Water, water and water is the best... just keep drinking it, there is a connection between dehydration and the wish to smoke that has yet to be explained. However, I know it is there, I just don't know why it works. Did you have any major slips? And if you did, what did you learn? No. I wanted to smoke many times, but did not. Do you have insight or advice for others? Find a new activity that you could not do while you smoked and put your heart and soul into it. I chose running and weight lifting. Ballroom dancing is just as good. It doesn’t really matter what it is. You must want to quit from the inside out. This is not an activity for the faint of heart. Discover why you smoke, understand what keeps you smoking and then do something about it. Remember nicotine will never change, it is what it is. You, however, are an entity that was born to change and evolve. That is your birthright, and it is your choice to decide what and who you will become. Thanks very much Nonic for sharing your story and for showing us how to make your quit your own. You’re a most deserved inductee and you’ve inspired our whole SSC family. Welcome to the Hall of Fame.

There are times in our lives when everything seems to fall into place. And we achieve things that we never thought possible. This is what happened to me. Today I am six months smoke free!!! I am amazed. I am grateful. I am happy. I read so many posts advising to take your time and plan your quit. And I understand why, for some, this might work. For me - being inpatient, and all - "taking my time" would mean keep on smoking till everything is "just right". And we know that the "perfect moment" is never there. I decided to quit smoking during a less stressful week, got my patches, smoked my lungs out the night before... and I did it. Was it easy? NO. Was it do-able. Definitely. Would I go again through the first month or so? NEVER.

But it clicked. Somehow, because of fear of defeat. Because I did not want to fail. Because of the great people that supported me here. Because I am proud of myself for making this stick... It just happened that I am today 6 months smoke free.

I am waiting for the day when smoking won't even cross my mind. I am not there yet. But I am still going strong. And I am still amazed by the countless triggers that I encounter every now and then. But when I am able to out run my 10 year older, or stay and play outside without the smoking break. Or go to the mall with my daughter without rushing her cause mommy has to have her cigarette... That is why I know it is worth it.

Keep the quit

Cristina

I had no idea when I started this journey that one day I will get here. Life is good above the smoky clouds... who would have thought? I did not die when I didn't get "my fix". I managed to survive the anger bursts (so did my family and co-workers...lol). I managed to survive living with a smoker for 3 out of these four months (hubby quit as well YAY. He has a month under his belt!!!). I did not eat my weight in junk food - though I did put on a few pounds that I did not need... I did not turn into a beauty queen (guess that depends on genes more than anything else, huh?) but I do feel better, smell better, and more importantly breath better than I did in about
 20 years. I am still thinking about smoking every now and then. The stinkin' thinkin' that "a puff would definitely feel good now". But I KNOW that I am an addict. I KNOW that one will never be enough. So I don't give in. And it goes away.

I have smoked for so long that I still have to retrain my mind on so many activities that were linked to smoking in all these years. But I am doing it. Was it easy to get here? NO. Maybe that is why I do not allow myself to slip - I don't want to go through these steps again.

I love being a non-smoker. I do not impose my quit on anyone else. I do not try to convice people smoking is evil. If asked, I just brag about how great it feels to breath. That is all.

So from the top of my lungs I say...

Keep the quit

Cristina 

Hubby decided 1/3/10 to quit smoking. Went out got the patches. Smoked until wee hrs of the night. Woke up. Smoked one. No change in the routine. Shower. Another smoke, Patch on.

He is on day 3 now. Besides hot flashes and some night vivid dreams, he is "fine". I tried to help. I tried to "walk" him through the motions, the triggers, the emotions, the cravings. He's fine. I have no way of telling whether is true or not. I cannot help unless he asks... But I am glad he's not smoking - less of a trigger for me. It's a bit weird that all the people on this site had weeks/months of withdrawal like symptoms and hubby does not. Well, that comes to show that indeed no quit is alike. A bit jealous though - why could not I have an easy one like that. Kidding. Was not TOO bad.

Still here. Still keeping the quit.

Cristina

Ah jeez, what a whirlwind.

Most days I stay away from this board b/c most days it's been easy as pie to be a big fat quitter. Go figure. 20 years gone, 39 days recovered.  I'm just learning to be an adult who doesn't smoke.  I don't know what that's like - the last time I was a non smoker I was barely a teenager, barely pubescent.  And what did I do with that portion of my life?  Sold my soul to the Nic patrol.  A walloping eye opener.  Mark me with the sign of the 'L', thank you very much.

When I smoked, NO ONE out on the street smoked.  Now, EVERY bloody person smokes.  I look at them in pity.  I look at them and think 'I'm so freaking glad I've quit already, it's not something I HAVE to do anymore.  I've DONE it.  Guilt, get the hell out of my head please and thank you.'

So now I'm a quitter there's plenty of time to think.  (And how TOTALLY bizarre that I actually notice my surroundings more now, since I'm not perenially busy lighting up and crushing out.)

And here be emotions.  Leaving the fog of 20 years of pacification, two decades of distraction, er..you don't exactly learn how to handle emotions well being a smoker.

When I was about 10 years old I was fervently anti-smoking.  I was convinced I'd never smoke, that I was allergic to smoke, it was disgusting, foul, you name it, I didn't want any of it.  Mom and Dad smoked, older brother was about to begin.  But me?  Don't kid yourself.

When I was 15, everything sucked.  My parents were on the edge of divorce after years of a mad, chaotic home life.  I spoke to no one, locked myself in my room and played solitaire.  I had no friends from school because I had been bullied forever.  But lucky me, I started finding friends from elsewhere, new ideas, new influences.  Their contribution?

An escape from dealing with the crap emotions and whaddayaknow?  Cigarettes.

The rush, the hit, the kick, the slap in the face.  The high, the blast, the addiction that made me not give a toss about everyone else.  Divorce?  Who cares, light er up.  Bullying?  Ya right, I'm cool now, where's the matches?

The ability to deal with a single
lousy
emotion?

Gone.

So here am I, approaching a 4_ in my stats (holy crap!) No one I know believes I've done it, they're all stunned, shocked, proud.  And they all still smoke.  Ah, bless em.  They'll figure it out one day.

So yeah, I've suddenly discovered what an emotion is.  Now I didn't really know how to define the term when I started on the evil weed, and it's now feeling a bit like I was encased in ice for 20 years, I'm Judge Dredd, 'I am the law', I'm suddenly THAWED out baby, and I don't quite get what I'm supposed to do when these emotions pop up, clear as a bell, bright as a blue sky, no formaldehyde cloud of poison in my eyeballs keeping my view clear of them.

Emotions?  What are the-

AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Whoa Nelly, stop the world I wanna get off. As it plays out...

...To have busted my hump exercising since July, to have lost 12 pounds and suddenly found five again just by quitting smoking.  No change in exercise or diet.  Rage.

...To realise all those little niggly things in my 5 year marriage are a bit more than niggly.  Fear, panic.

...To know those things aren't 'deal breakers', they're all stupid nonsense that can be worked out - and quick - because I've suddenly learned how to have that calm, reasoned conversation, that debate that always makes sense.  Joy.  Relief.

...To accept that the #1 greatest constipation killer (a smoke and a cuppa) is no longer the routine and in doing so accept that I've not "evacuated" properly since last year so I probably should eat some great fibrous stuff like Weetabix (for those not in the know, it's about like eating a shoebox).  Pain.  Self pity like a rainbow of fire.

...To know that no matter how crap anything gets, I'll never smoke again.  To know Saturday night I'll pull off my last patch and then I'm quit completely.  Pure, unadulterated Bliss.

There, it's off my chest.

Oh wait.

Speaking of chest, I STILL haven't had a decent cough.  I had a nasty cold that miraculously left me in a week (is THAT all it takes to clear off a cold as a non-smoker?  More bliss!) that came with a cough and all, but not THE cough.  I still feel like a giant overflowing lung on legs.  Sigh.

Peace.  Out.
And the sequel

Fact 1:  Emotional Technicolor screams and sleeps.  And screams.  On and off.  Daily.  It’s a revelation.  It’s a nightmare.  It’s exhausting and invigorating.  It’s like trying to get a parakeet back in it’s cage to get things under control.  Deep breath, get patience ready, whistle a sweet tune and gently shut the door once it’s contained.

Fact 2:  I’ve discovered I’m a bit of a misanthrope.  It’s not that I dislike people in particular, it’s that I dislike artificial, arrogant, backstabbing and manipulative people.

Fact 2b:  Probably 95% of the people I’ve met in my life sadly seem to fit into one or more of the above categories.

Fact 2c:  Now that I have no instant escape from these kind of people, no instant off switch for the bitter distaste I feel when encountering such people, I can do nought but think about how greasy I feel in their presence.  I want a shower.  With a rocket-powered sand blaster.  Dried by a blast furnace to burn off the ‘ick’.

Oh, wait, that would hurt ME.  Cancel that thought, I think I’ll just have a hot chocolate and make faces at them behind their backs

Fact 3:  I’ve never been so confused.  So insecure.  So exposed.  So paranoid.  I hadn’t quite learned how to deal with all these things when I started smoking at 15.  It seems I’ve gone straight back to square one.  Learning.  Learning all the time.

Fact 4:  I’ve never been so happy.  Well, maybe before I started smoking, but that was so freaking long ago, it’s all new again.  Really.  I’m happy.  Except when I’m dealing with individuals referenced herein under Fact 2b.

Fact 5:  I’ve also never been so blisteringly annoyed.  At injustice.  At unfairness.  At condescension.  At rudeness.  At impatience.  At misunderstanding.

I always hated resolutions. With passion. Maybe it's the rebel in me. Maybe it is just the face that I never wanted to do something just because everybody else does it. Maybe it was just chicken of me - don't plan on doing something you might fail... Don't know. Bottom line is I do not like resolutions. But today, as I was thinking of the passing of 2009, Tim McGraw's song came on. And I have decided that it might be a darn good resolution for me...

I don't know how far in the process I will manage to get. But at least I'll try to end 2010 happier than I was in 2009.

Happy New Year!!!

Keep the quit

Cristina