My last cigarette was Friday, after work. Today is Tuesday. I am struggling. I write this for myself.
I kind of quit on accident. I had no plan. Still kinda don't. Maybe that is why this is so hard for me. All last week, every cigarette I had left me feeling like garbage. So I just didn't have another one. I never decided which one would be the last. I didn't run out, I still have half a pack. Should probably throw those away. They are there. I know they are there. I don't need to buy more. I'm just not smoking them.
During a global pandemic of respiratory disease, I beat myself up in my mind with every smoke. Now is the stupidest time to be smoking. I've been smoking the last 10 years. All of it was the stupidest time to be smoking. I tried to quit a few times, with varying levels of success. But always with a relapse. This time will be different. This time I am determined.
My anxiety levels are high. I am feeling overly emotional. My chest feels tight. Putting it into words on a blog that maybe no one will ever read... makes me feel better. Last time I tried to quit, it lasted a few weeks. And then I became a closet smoker. Ashamed of my failure.
I am quitting for my daughter, my husband, and for myself.
I am done sneaking out to "go for a walk" with gum and hand sanitizer in my pockets. I am done hiding behind the garage. I am done feeling like a failure. I am done feeling out of breath. I am done with smoker's cough. I am done paying money for something that doesn't make me happy. I am done allotting time to do something that will eventually kill me. I am done smoking.