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11/9/2017

I quit.

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I have a secret. I’m a closet smoker. I have been for a few years now. But now, I quit. I signed up for the NS Lung Association Quitting Cold Turkey challenge. Today is day 2. This is harder than yesterday. I want to cry. I miss it. And I don’t know why. It was something to look forward to. It was something to do while I am outside watching my chickens peck the ground. I want nothing more than to light one up and take a deep breath. Let’s take a few steps back. I started smoking when I was 13. I tried to hide it for several years but I kept getting caught. I smoked for about 8 years. I never thought about wanting to quit, but there were many times I wish I hadn’t started. I smoked my first while lying in bed, half asleep. My last would be just before drifting off. I only smoked about 10 a day because I had to work and could only smoked on designated break times. And because I couldn’t really afford it. My boyfriend decided he wanted to quit, and I would do it with him. We went to meetings once a week and took Champix. It worked well, and I quit for about 5 years. I know he was smoking occasionally. Cigars and such. But I didn’t want to. I was upset with him. And people doubted I could do it. I didn’t want anyone to be disappointed in me. And I wanted to prove them wrong. So, until I went to Cuba about 4 years ago and went to a cigar factory. And we decided to try them. So I smoked them occasionally. And then 2 years ago I started back full time (and then quit for a couple weeks here and there) smoking cigarillos. So a week ago my husband decided he was going to quit again. We tried getting him a prescription for Champix again, but wait times for a doctor are ridiculous. He’ll go to a pharmacist on Friday. I heard about the QCTC on the radio and figured this would be a great time to sign up. The rules are simple, Nov 8 @ 12pm, no smoking for 30 days, not even a puff, and they’ll give you a turkey for Christmas! I wasn’t sure if I could quit in the middle of the day, so I had my last one on the 7th right before bed. Day 1 was fine. Just had to get past the initial thoughts of lighting up when I get in the car. It’s Day 2, and it sucks. I worked a 12 and ate candy rockets when I got in the car. And an apple at lunch.
Day 3, off today. Off all weekend. Lord help me. I’ll be all alone. I’ve got a parcel to pick up at the store that needs to be signed for, but I don’t think I’m ready to go in without buying a pack of smokes.
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Day 7: I’m having a rough day. I just really hate my job right now and I don’t even have a smoke to look forward to. So I’m eating crap. Yes. I already ate the brownie. It’s about 3:00pm. There’s a cage next door to work. It’s bad. I’m also trying to cut back on my sugar intake. I think I’ve failed.
Day 12: want to cry. I’m emotional and I have no outlet. I’ve been trying to exercise, but I usually go for junk food. Especially after meals. Because I want something bad. Yesterday I was stressed. And the day before. Candy wasn’t helping. The only outlet I knew was smoking, but smoking isn’t really crossing my mind much. But my body wanted something. So I drank. Seriously. I went to the liquor store yesterday and bought a bottle of local craft cider. Shipbuilders Cider. It’s delicious. It took me 3 hours to drink it, but that’s fine. I called in sick to work today. I know, shame on me. But I’m exhausted from the weekend. It’s 2:30 in the afternoon. And I want to cry. First time today. But instead, I will go in the shower and when I come out, I will have a glass of wine from the cheap bottle I also bought yesterday.
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Jan 12: so far so good. Sometimes I really miss smoking. Sometimes I wish I had the willpower to just have one. Or just a a couple when having a few drinks. Then walk away. But I’m scared I’d just want more. I even have dreams about smoking. I do. But I’m determined.
Feb 16, 2018: No smokes yet. Though I’ve thought about it. I have no interest in those Colts cigars any more. And I’m really not interested in my Talon cigarillos. But sometimes I just wish I could have a cigarette. And I haven’t really smoked cigarettes in 9 years. And who can afford it?! But I’d like to have one. And I’m scared I’d want another one after that. So I haven’t.

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