Two weeks, no cigarettes. a miracle. That’s what that is. I definitely want cigarettes less, but I still want them.
The other day I was having coffee with a friend and I know that sometimes she smokes the same kind of cigarettes I smoke. All day I was thinking about how I was going to smoke one of her cigarettes and not tell anyone about it, or act like it was no big deal and just have “one cigarette.” It turns out she did not have any with her. Thank goodness. I really want to stay quit.
My boyfriend quit cigarettes 5 days ago and he is being much cooler about his quitting process than I am. It’s really nice to have him by my side as we quit together. We are each other’s cheerleaders and support team. Yesterday I found a half-smoked cigarette in my car that I didn’t see when I cleaned it out. I texted a picture of it to Jonny and he told me to throw it out. It took me about 10 minutes to make the decision. Thankfully I threw it away.
I am currently working through some trauma that step 4 reminded me I need to work through. Something happened to me six years ago and the wound has been re-opened. Roughly 100 times each day, I tell myself that going through this trauma again means that I absolutely should smoke a cigarette.
“one hour at a time,” I tell myself.