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Anticipation ...

So today is it: the day I try to quit smoking again. Needless to say, I'm tense and pensive and a whole bunch of other adjectives. So many friends have quit lately -- Trix, David, Jill, Joe ... _aqualung_ recently celebrated his one year anniversary as a non-smoker. And it's great, and I'm trying to use it as inspiration, but oh ... so once I go to bed, that's it. Finito. Wake up and be done with it. Miss Prissy Pants has invited me over tomorrow night to bake brownies, and I'm hoping that provides a worthwhile distraction, though I'm also worried because he smokes. I plan to give him my leftover cigarettes, if nothing else.

It's making me think of the last time I quit -- fall 2003. I remember n0thingman taking me out bowling as a form of distraction. I remember that H.W.S.R.N. and I had our huge falling out about one week into it (and over my LiveJournal, no less). My falling out with lurpy followed soon after. I remember the death of Molly, the last of my rats. I don't know if it was those factors, or the withdrawal, or both that made me such an emotional mess. And yet somehow I stayed not smoking through all of that, through months of agony, until the deaths ... of Bob, and of my Grandmother. And then I let those things serve as an excuse, and it opened the door ... sent me sliding down that hill, and got me back to where I am now.

I'm scared. Totally fucking scared. Like I told unixd0rk, I know I can do it, it's just that I don't know if I can do it, you know?

Fuck. I'm gonna give sleeping another try.


Mar. 23rd, 2005 12:12 pm (UTC)
It's been a little over 13 months for me. I never realized how putrifying cigarette smoke is until I quit. Now whenever one of my coworkers returns from a smoke break, I can't help thinking, "did I really smell that bad?"

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