Sunday, June 3, 2012

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do of tomorrow, after I wake up, I will be attempting to quit smoking, cold turkey, yet again. Last time I attempted, I was successful for about 3 months.  I came to the harsh realization a few weeks ago, that I have been smoking for about 5 years now, at about a pack a day for those 5 years.  That is just....too long.

See I have tried to quit smoking before.  Quite frankly, everytime I have decided to quit, my significant other at the time would get annoyed with me and end up buying me a pack of cigarettes.  You see, my withdrawal is pretty bad.  When I finally had a boyfriend who was willing to endure my withdrawal, I spent the weekend alternating between laying in bed miserable, or with my head over the toilet vomiting.  That weekend, sad to say, was easier to get through than the next three months.  Because I had someone with me the entire weekend, letting me snack on junk food and watch whatever movies I wanted, the annoyance of getting sick and feeling miserable, wasn't as bad.  The three months after, when he couldn't be there to watch my every move, where I had to leave my bed, and venture out to the places where I had come attached to smoking, that's where it got harder.

My mother smoked when she was younger.  She quit probably, actually around my age.  Me and my brother were pretty young, but I still remember knocking on the bedroom door and having her respond by saying she wasn't there.  I asked where mommy was, and she said "Australia".  Several years later, I found out that we had a blizzard and my mom had run out of cigarettes, and realized how ridiculously addicted she was.  So one day, my mom's best friend took her out for the day, and my dad cleaned the entire house, got rid of every pack of cigarettes, lighter, ashtray, as well as all of the smoke smell in the house. Then, he went out and rented movies, got her books, hard candy, snacks, etc, and prepared for her to be locked away to go through withdrawal.  She hasn't smoked in about 20 some years now.

Even while dating the guy who had helped me quit, I couldn't handle it.  I was still in college, and there was the simple pleasure of smoking a cigarette on your way to class, or after a long class, or standing outside of the building with your friends who are smokers as well, and talking.  I'm sure he knew that I hadn't truly quit smoking, he caught me on occasion, but I don't think he had any idea of how often I really smoked, and how many of his friends knew that I smoked.  It wasn't really a shocker to him when we broke up that I was smoking again,
so I'm sure he had some idea.  Then I started working in the restaurant, and having a smoke break felt right.  My mom even knew that as soon as I started working there I was going to pick right up with it.  But now, after almost two years of working there, I worked my last day (except for perhaps the occasional shift here or there if they need me).  So now, seemed like the most appropriate time to quit.  No more excuses.  I moved into a new place, so I don't have as many smoking rituals here.  I've started running.  I'm not around my smoking friends as often.  Why not, right?

Mind over matter.  Quitting smoking is like a break-up.  You have to get used to something completely different.  You're cutting something out of your life that played a constant role.  Something is missing.  Places you go, and rituals you did, you can't do anymore, because it doesn't feel the same.  You feel sick, all you want to do is eat and sleep and hide.  You're grumpy, irritable, and part of you wants to crumble and give up.  You need a support system to help you stay strong.  Those of you who have never smoked, will probably never understand this comparison, but it's how I feel, and it's how I have felt everytime I've tried to quit.

I have a support system.  I know my family will be very supportive of me.  My mom, my mom's boyfriend, my dad, brother, and sister-in-law have been trying to get me to quit since they found out I've started smoking in the first place.  Sure, my mother has been understanding, but that doesn't mean she doesn't nag me to quit.  Unfortunately for me, my boyfriend hasn't been very supportive.  I'm not saying that he doesn't want me to quit.  I'm sure he does.  It would save money, I would smell better, he wouldn't be affected by his asthma.  He has helped me get into the running.  But everytime I mention the fact that I'm going to quit, his response is usually, "Oh great, you're going to be so much fun to be around."  To be honest, I wish I could get a bit more support on his end considering he'll be the one I'm going to be around the most, and I don't want to give in this time.  But, I know deep down that the only person I can rely on to help myself quit, is myself.  So...tomorrow starts that adventure.

Wish me luck.

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