…because of how much I love smoking.
This week (friday specifically) will mark 12 weeks since I quit smoking. That’s amazing. It’s 3 months. I never, ever thought that I would manage to get this far. Champix helped a great deal and I honestly don’t know if I’d have made this far without it. I will add that it was time to quit. How do I know that? I don’t know, it was just time to quit.
I’ve been a smoker since I was about 15 years old. I think the habit started then and the addiction took a firm hold when I was about 20. I’m 40. For the past 10 years I’d been smoking about a pack a day. Like everyone else, I’d tried on several occasions to quit and I’d failed. I loved to smoke. Not the horrible phlegm and the nasty ass cough that came with it, but the act of smoking. The 7-10 min where I could fuck off and be by myself to read a book, surf the net or navel gaze. It was an automatic break away from everything. I miss that beyond belief now. I’m managing. I have not committed any murders or gross verbal abuse of my family or of strangers on the street. I’ve also been pretty chill about it this time around. That’s the part that makes me realize that it’s time to quit. Every other time I’ve tried to quit I think I knew that it wasn’t going to work. This time I went into it, if not confident, then resigned to the fact that it was time. My mantra has become “I don’t do that anymore.” It pops up each time I see, think about, desire, crave a smoke. So far I’ve been able to move on from there. It’s not easy. I’m done the Champix now and I still think it’s going to work. One thing I have realized, even on a good day, I have to consciously decide to not smoke. It’s a bit like quitting each day.