When I go to bed tonight, I will mentally pat myself on the back for going 10 straight days without . . . self-administered carbon monoxide, tar and approximately 6997 other chemical poisonings. I can’t yet brag about giving up nicotine yet, because in weaker moments, I am falling back on various other delivery systems for that particular drug. The plan is to make it through the first month in this way and then detox completely when my stress levels plummet precipitously on July 1st.
I did look into a few other commonly used methods to conquer addiction, but none of them seemed particularly auspicious. There are all sorts of natural and/or homeopathic products, but deep down, I believe that you have to believe that they will work for them to work and I am not much of a believer. The same problem arose when I googled “12 Step Program”. Somehow I don’t see myself taking a fearless moral inventory of my character, admitting my defects to a higher Power and then humbly asking Him to remove these shortcomings. I also don’t plan to become missionary among my many MANY smoking friends. No, I will use my own (if I may say so myself, impressive) powers of denial to get me through.
This I know:
Thinking about quitting sucks big time. It is truly awful in its futile endlessness.
Quitting, at least so far, has been easy in its awesome finality.