Quitter’s Log 11/30/11

3:30 PM and I’m running close up to the 48 hour mark. It’s kind of tense here, I can feel the twitches sneaking into my eyes and fingers. Pretty soon I’m going to look like Tweek Tweak from South Park.

Here’s a bit of what cooked up on Day Two:

Five people now know that I’ve quit the smokes. I almost made it six on the bus to work. A stranger boarded the bus at the Franklin stop and sat next to me, as they do. His tobacco sent was wafting into my nostrils; clearly, he’d been smoking while waiting for the bus. Smoking was my personal favorite activity to do while waiting for anything, but particularly the bus. So my first thought was that I only had one choice. I opened my mouth to say, “Hey. Sit over there, Smokey. I’m a quitter.” But I refrained, mainly because I’m not that rude, and also I didn’t mind the short bust of nostalgia. Can we have nostalgic episodes about something from only two days ago?

I did tell my mother this morning. A more appropriate person to tell, I know. She said “congrats!”, then, and here’s the important thing, she told me one of the things she did when she tried to quit smoking was see a hypnotist. Wait…. What?! I have a difficult time sewing together that image. But then again, she was in college at the time. I guess I did weird things in college too, like start smoking.

Last night and this morning has made clear at least one thing. The strongest and most consistent trigger rears its creeping head while I am in transit. I typically would smoke from the bus to work, work to the gym, gym to the bus, bus to the house. That’s a lot of cigarettes! And while preparing myself for the strength to defend against Smoke Breaks, I foolishly allowed myself to be surprised by the intense craving that hit when I left work yesterday, and then drove to Elk River. And then drove home from Elk River. And then to work this morning. Oh, pain.

But I survived, and my lungs stayed clear. (At least, no tar was added…on this day.)

47.5 hours without nicotine. Straight baller. My trainer gave me a tip that I think has helped with the restlessness. Today, rather than remaining at my desk when I would have stepped outside, I stepped outside sans cigarette. I’ve been walking around my building instead of lighting up. This might be the key to my success at Cold Turkey: replacing one habit with another, rather than simply being minus one habit.

So here we are. I’ve got some shakes, some jitters, a tiny pit of paranoia and what I think I’d call nervous chewing. But it’s worth it…. Right?

Quitter's Log 11/29/11 hour 24

4:00 PM

I am at the 24 hour mark. I’ve been reduced to soundscapes. It’s been mostly Japanese and Chinese theme music today. A little bit of Muzak thrown in. I think it is helping. The melodic predictability is assuring, or something.

Work is a drag. I’m starting to get snippy with co-workers. Three times since my last post, I’ve spontaneously realized my muscles were tense; cramping from the withdrawal, begging me to light up. Lucky for my lungs, I don’t have any cigarettes. Although I do still have a baker’s dozen worth of lighters in my bag(s). I suppose those should be the next to go.

The edge is on. The novelty: off. All I want is a cigarette. So, that’s great.

Quitter’s Log, 11/29/11

I had my last cigarette at 4pm yesterday. Monday seemed a good day to quit, for two reasons: one, because my teeth will be pulled this Friday and the suction caused by smoking, similar to that of sipping from a straw, can cause dry sockets – yuck. And two, because my pack was low, and I know I don’t want to try to quit while I still have some cigarettes. That would foolhardy. So, my afternoon cigarette came and went without much drama. I smoked alone. Told my boss it was my last when I returned to my desk. She’s thrilled; bought me tootsie pops to ease the oral frustration. It’s sweet. I don’t know if it’ll help. Which brings me to my point: I have never tried to quite before. I decided to try cold turkey for no more grand a reason than at heart I’m kind of lazy. It’s convenience. I can do cold turkey without having to remember a patch/pill/inhaler or seeing a doctor or spending any more money on nicotine. And bonus, you can’t deny the literary fun of going cold turkey while the house is filled with cold turkey. It is 10:20 am on Tuesday Nov. 29, 2011. I have now gone 18 hours and 20 minutes without nicotine. My boss and co-smoker think I should get the patch (soon!) but ….as mentioned before, the inconvenience. I will probably get some tonight, but maybe tomorrow…or Thursday. Which means it could be more than 72 hours before I have nicotine flowing through my blood stream again. The weirdest part of all is that I’m not sure how I feel. The habit of smoking was such a vast element of my enjoyment that I’m struggling to distinguish between the physiochemical withdrawal, and the emotional grieving. I hear this is common, that most individuals are more addicted to the habit than the drug. However, recent and not-so-recent studies show that nicotine can be as addictive as heroin or cocaine. Yickes. When I read things like that, Im all: “how can anyone succeed? I saw The Fighter, heroin is no joke. Christian Bale had to go to jail to kick it. I’m just blogging.” But then again, many people have quit smoking, so why the fuck can’t I? And here we go….