Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Day 5 towards a smoke free life

This is day 5 of the latest one of my countless attempts to kick the habit of smoking. I have to say that this really isn't as hard as I thought it would be, nor how hard I remembered it to be. It may possibly be something to do with the sheer determination that I'm showing this time; even though I know deep down, I don't really want to quit.

Over the past 5 days it has given my brain time to think about how I can describe what it is like to a none smoker. Imagine breaking you leg or arm, it hurts like burning shit being smeared on the soles of your feet while having your eyes poked out with a blunt, but very hot pallet knife. It's not exactly how it feels to break a bone, but it's a similar pain level. Obviously, it doesn't physically hurt to have nicotine cravings, but for the sake of argument, just go along with it.
Anyway, imagine breaking your leg. It hurts loads to begin with, and then you go to the hospital and they strap it up and it doesn't hurt any more, it just aches. This is the same with quitting smoking. The first day or two are hell, the cravings come in their troves and you do all you can to stay sane. But after this first stage, the whole thing just retreats to the back of your mind, and like an annoying little child, will sit and repeat "IwannasmokeIwannasmokeIwannasmoke" all day. And just like with an annoying child, you learn to put up with it and not think about it. Of course this leads me to the major cravings that will breach every now and then - like a giant Sperm Whale does to breathe. These are like knocking your broken bone. It'll go from an inconsequential annoyance to a MASSIVE PAIN then back down to the former sensation again after a small (ish) wait.

Day 1 was utter hell. Me being stupid decided to smoke my last ciggy just moments before I started work. But with the knowledge of not being able to smoke when I finished my shift, all my stress levels rocketed the instant a customer showed any stupidity towards me.

"Where are the jeans?"
"Turn around, twat."

Of course, I didn't actually say that, but I thought it, and it showed with my stern and nippy responses to any query directed to me.

Day 2 was slightly better: work was much more relaxing than the day before. I'd managed the monumental effort of preparing myself mentally for the day ahead without my vice. But it ended with a mammoth craving that night that lasted about 2 or 3 hours, I actually came close to chewing off my face.

Day 3 was just a nightmare. First day back to college after half term, and poor poor Lewis took the whole lot of my angst straight in the face. Funny from an outside perspective, not so much for me. Or Lewis. But to his credit, he just took it. Like a boss.

Day 4 was lengthy. Because I was off college I spent the duration in my room waiting for Siobhan to finish university so I could go for a drink. I decided to try and make this wait as short as possible by literally laying in until 1.30 and then trying to keep myself busy. When the cravings did hit, they felt endless. Meeting up with Siobhan and putting the world to rights over a pint strangely didn't come with the by product of nicotine want, thankfully. Until upon exiting the staple institution of the English socialising medium (pub) I was full on walloped in the face by smoke fumes from those that were smoking on the doorstep. I found myself fighting the urge to drop to my knees and grovel for a cigarette from them. Of course I didn't do this. I have dignity.

Day 5. Well this is day 5, and rather peculiarly, I haven't had any major, MAJOR cravings - except from the odd one when I've seen another person indulging their habit. My mindset has also started to change towards smokers. I look at them differently, but I think this may just be bitterness because I want what they have in their hands and mouths (no, that was not an innuendo).

As of yet, I'm still not feeling the supposed health benefits that I should be, or the financial gains either. What ever I used to spend on sirs Lambert and Butler, just gets spent on other, equally pointless crap.

It matters not. Quitting is my goal, and quitting is what I'm going to do. Cold Turkey.

No comments:

Post a Comment