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02 Mar 2007, 19:08
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Ah, so let me tell you what its like to quit smoking.
Everything is a trigger. Things that you used to do with smokes you can't do anymore. That means, for instance, you can't drink coffee. Thats a tough one. It also means, that, ideally, you never eat because inevitably, food makes you want a smoke. That, unfortunately, you can't control. You can't drink. You can't hang out. You can't drive your usual route to work. You cant' do anything where you used to smoke or else, the cravings start.
They'll be little pangs of anxiousness at first, then they'll get stronger. Your palms get clammy, your eyes get a little teary and you feel on edge. It's like how you might feel twenty seconds after someone scares the crap of out you - your tense, ready to pounce, a little jittery and a little angry and - if someone does it again - you are likely to snap their head clean off.
Your body starts to feels tingly, and your arms feel out of place. Your anger and frustration begin to mount as you realize this feeling aint going away for a while. You become insanely easy to irritate. Anything - absolutely anything - will set you off. It's your body's way of trying to create a guilt-free pathway to having a smoke. "Oh crap! The font size is wrong! That's it! I'm smoking! I can't deal with this powerpoint crap!". Your coworkers are all idiots.
You tell yourself, you are doing great. After all, nicotine is more addictive than cocaine. It's been proven nicotine provides a higher high and a bigger rush - and cocaine addicts couldn't tell the difference between shooting up cocaine or shooting up nicotine. Wow.
Your remember that nicotine only takes 8 seconds to get to your brain, but it takes 72 hours to get out and for ten seconds, your palms return to normal, your heart rate drops and you feel, for a moment in control.
And so you make it through day 1, but then day 2 comes. It comes again - but stronger this time. It's like someone who was tapping on the door is now kicking it. With a steel boot. You can't ignore it. That's the nicodemon. He's a little guy who sits in your head and !@!# with you for about a week until you become strong enough to rip his little !@(#!(@# testicles off and shove them down his throat.
You make it through day 2, but theres no reprieve. Your pray for sleep, but he's there too. For about two weeks, maybe three or four (as in my first quit two years ago), you will dream of nothing but cigs. Every night. You will dream of Marlboro everything. You will wake up more irritated than that time you thought you slept with Jessica Alba but instead slept in a gutter hugging a dead squirrel.
The next day the coughing starts. Since you sound like you might actually die at any moment, while your lungs scream "WTF" and expel years of smoking goo, you are reminded this is a good idea. You wonder how its possible that blowing your nose produces less goo than coughing. And thats fricking scary. But at least you know your lungs are healing. It'll take another 5 to 10 years before they complete the process, but they do it.
And so, holding a big snot ball in the palm of your hand you think "yea I dont need another one of those." And that makes it through day 3.
You come home that night and notice something odd. Your clothes all smell, well, kinda stale. Like they've been washed but never dried. You figure its just that shirt, so you throw it in the laundry and put on another one. That one smell just as bad. Ok weird. You throw them all in the laundry. You get one when its done and it smells normal. You get into bed. But the bed smells stale. You can't do anything about it now so you spray a little fabreeze around and go to bed. You forget of course that within twenty minutes your nose will be as screwed as Britney spears' career. You spend the rest of the night trying to breath through your mouth, only to wake up with the worlds driest throat - complete with fabreeze taste in your mouth - and an even deeper cough.
And so begins day 4. You are excited because you've made it to the 72 hour mark. All the nicotine is out of your body. By now, the cravings should be gone right? Wrong. You've got about 10 more days to go before they really slow down, and about 24 more before they stop altogether. You mark your calendar, and you count down the hours for each day. One day at a time.
Anyway, sorry, had to get that off my chest.
3 days, 23 hours, 7 minutes, 24 seconds
But whos counting right?
Everything is a trigger. Things that you used to do with smokes you can't do anymore. That means, for instance, you can't drink coffee. Thats a tough one. It also means, that, ideally, you never eat because inevitably, food makes you want a smoke. That, unfortunately, you can't control. You can't drink. You can't hang out. You can't drive your usual route to work. You cant' do anything where you used to smoke or else, the cravings start.
They'll be little pangs of anxiousness at first, then they'll get stronger. Your palms get clammy, your eyes get a little teary and you feel on edge. It's like how you might feel twenty seconds after someone scares the crap of out you - your tense, ready to pounce, a little jittery and a little angry and - if someone does it again - you are likely to snap their head clean off.
Your body starts to feels tingly, and your arms feel out of place. Your anger and frustration begin to mount as you realize this feeling aint going away for a while. You become insanely easy to irritate. Anything - absolutely anything - will set you off. It's your body's way of trying to create a guilt-free pathway to having a smoke. "Oh crap! The font size is wrong! That's it! I'm smoking! I can't deal with this powerpoint crap!". Your coworkers are all idiots.
You tell yourself, you are doing great. After all, nicotine is more addictive than cocaine. It's been proven nicotine provides a higher high and a bigger rush - and cocaine addicts couldn't tell the difference between shooting up cocaine or shooting up nicotine. Wow.
Your remember that nicotine only takes 8 seconds to get to your brain, but it takes 72 hours to get out and for ten seconds, your palms return to normal, your heart rate drops and you feel, for a moment in control.
And so you make it through day 1, but then day 2 comes. It comes again - but stronger this time. It's like someone who was tapping on the door is now kicking it. With a steel boot. You can't ignore it. That's the nicodemon. He's a little guy who sits in your head and !@!# with you for about a week until you become strong enough to rip his little !@(#!(@# testicles off and shove them down his throat.
You make it through day 2, but theres no reprieve. Your pray for sleep, but he's there too. For about two weeks, maybe three or four (as in my first quit two years ago), you will dream of nothing but cigs. Every night. You will dream of Marlboro everything. You will wake up more irritated than that time you thought you slept with Jessica Alba but instead slept in a gutter hugging a dead squirrel.
The next day the coughing starts. Since you sound like you might actually die at any moment, while your lungs scream "WTF" and expel years of smoking goo, you are reminded this is a good idea. You wonder how its possible that blowing your nose produces less goo than coughing. And thats fricking scary. But at least you know your lungs are healing. It'll take another 5 to 10 years before they complete the process, but they do it.
And so, holding a big snot ball in the palm of your hand you think "yea I dont need another one of those." And that makes it through day 3.
You come home that night and notice something odd. Your clothes all smell, well, kinda stale. Like they've been washed but never dried. You figure its just that shirt, so you throw it in the laundry and put on another one. That one smell just as bad. Ok weird. You throw them all in the laundry. You get one when its done and it smells normal. You get into bed. But the bed smells stale. You can't do anything about it now so you spray a little fabreeze around and go to bed. You forget of course that within twenty minutes your nose will be as screwed as Britney spears' career. You spend the rest of the night trying to breath through your mouth, only to wake up with the worlds driest throat - complete with fabreeze taste in your mouth - and an even deeper cough.
And so begins day 4. You are excited because you've made it to the 72 hour mark. All the nicotine is out of your body. By now, the cravings should be gone right? Wrong. You've got about 10 more days to go before they really slow down, and about 24 more before they stop altogether. You mark your calendar, and you count down the hours for each day. One day at a time.
Anyway, sorry, had to get that off my chest.
3 days, 23 hours, 7 minutes, 24 seconds
But whos counting right?
