The evening of day two was spent in the real world around real people. Family, friends, people who knew what I was doing and wishing me the best as they lit up and looked stupid and stunk. Some tried not to smoke but couldn’t. Some didn’t try at all and I wanted to blame them as I paced and fidgeted and then laughed at myself for being weak and stupid.
I was prepared for the mental aspect of quitting. I was prepared for the physical aspect too. – What I wasn’t prepared for was both, in an overwhelming landslide of energy, at the same exact time.
I tried to be around them (the smokers) and laugh at it (the addiction) (not at them). I tried walking away from them into an empty shadow of nothinness and sit there by myself, fidget and wonder why they didn’t give a **** about me. I tried to think about something else… and that worked for hours… until something else happened…
There they all were celebrating my birthday.. and there I was bored out of my head and needing to do something… anything. / there was a mountain of unbelievable, dangerous energy. – I tried running around the block and when I returned they asked me, with smiles, if I had been smoking. No!
I tried swimming. I tried screaming, I punched a tree and sprained my wrist. I tried 20 times to laugh and go sit in the living room, where I’d last about 30 seconds before standing up and declaring I couldn’t sit there.
Boredom, anxiety, extreme frustration and they all just looked at me knowing that one drag of a cigarette would take it all away and make me smile again., turn me back into the person they loved.
For the last time I declared that I couldn’t sit there. I got up, I yelled at a few people who didn’t seem to understand, they yelled back at me and I drove to the store and bought a pack of cigarettes.
I wondered the whole time of this crazy uncontrollable energy was what I had been suppressing since I was eleven years old. / Then, somewhere between opening that pack and sticking a cigarette between my lips I remembered someone, at some point in my life explaining that this very feeling was the peak of withdraw.
I couldn’t go back to the house that held my birthday. I knew, if I did, I would smoke. And I knew, if I did that, I could never do this again… and be forgiven… by anyone.. but mostly myself. My choices were to return a happy dying smoker or to go be alone, go find something to do with this…. (whatever it is)
I called and I made my apologizes. / My mother defiantly told me she understood what I was going through and told me again that I could beat it.
They had their cake and icrcream without me but the way I saw it - I was sacrofising this year’s cake to be here for next year’s, and many more years. It was my birthday present to myself. I had made a promise to myself and I really hope they all understand.
There was no lighter to light it. I had prepared for that too. The cigarettes were thrown out the window and I drove home to be alone and to beat this.. cold turkey.
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