Stoptober is and isn’t a success. I will be completely honest with you, my friend – I have had the odd slip up.
The nicotine cravings went away very quickly. I don’t need a patch, some gum, or even one of those stupid fake cigarettes that looks like you’re smoking a tampon with the applicator still attached.
I felt better every morning and I slept better through the night. The thought of smoke entering my mouth and lungs was revolting, and my appearance just… brightened.
I JUST REALLY REALLY MISS BEING A SMOKER!
I feel like I’m no longer part of the secret smokers club. Those of us with the numb hands and endless filters, who talk about our failed attempts to quit as we lovingly drag away. Those people who can be best friends with anyone in possession of a lighter. I can’t even count the people I’ve known, even if only for an hour, over a cigarette and feeling of togetherness you get when shunned by society.
I’ve found, pretty much the only way to cope, is to identify the times I want a cigarette and acknowledge the cravings. I get that crazed look in my eye and snap at everyone, before telling them in a superior way that I actually quit smoking two weeks ago.
After a very filling dinner and a glass of red with my flatmate, where the meal had ended but we weren’t ready to retreat to our rooms or start cleaning. I wanted a cigarette.
Arriving to an industry drinks event by myself where I literally did not know a single person. I wanted a cigarette.
An unsavory incident of sexual harassment (which I will write about soon) from someone in a position of complete power. I wanted a cigarette. (In this case, I begged one off a total stranger. He saw the look on my face and gave me two. I love him completely.)
The bus wasn’t due for another 10 minutes. I wanted a cigarette.
The club was noisy, and hot, and to be frank a little be boring. I wanted a cigarette.
Work was slow, and dull, and otherwise uninspiring. I really, really, really wanted a cigarette.
I have slipped up a couple times, but I’ve also gotten back on the wagon. I managed to go out for drinks, and hang out with smokers, and politely decline. And to be honest? I’ll probably slip up several more times, but everytime it will be a slip up, and not giving-up completely.
The powerful feeling I get by not smoking far outweighs the indulgence of a cigarette. And I’m slowly getting addicted to that feeling instead.