I recently tried to quit smoking.
Why
You know how on some days, you wake up and then you douse yourself in petrol and set yourself on fire? It's a bit like that, really, only more destructive.
How it panned out
Whilst having my last cigarette, I had this... Vision. I was going to quit and it was going to feel absolutely fucking AWESOME and there'll be cherubs and favourite fictional characters cheering me own and rainbows coming out of every crack in the wall and shit like that. Then I told myself that I was going to document the journey towards healing and then post it EVERYWHERE and everybody is going to be so goddamned fucking inspired by it.
None of that happened. Of course.
The timeline of unlimited fuckuppery (After last cigarette)
Ten minutes: The old habit kicked in. My eyes were drawn to the ashtray and how it looked so lonely.
Willpower: Indomitable.
An hour: Brain began questioning my action. The table looked like an ashtray.
Willpower: 90%
Two hours: Massive debate ensued. Why should I against why I should. Brain functions regress to that of a child throwing a tantrum. Found myself muttering 'Why can't I just have a cigarette?' under my breath.
Willpower: 60%
Five hours: Full blown hallucinations. I feel a cigarette in my mouth. I really do. And in between my fingers. It feels so comforting. Teeth developed lips.
Half a day: Everybody's face is ugly. They should be gassed. Everybody's voice sounded like Cthulu's snore.
Willpower: 0
A day: Mild elation at the fact that I smoked nothing. Told self it could happen.
Willpower: 10%
A minute and a day: Told self it could not happen.
Willpower: -20%
A day and a half: I could fear tears welling up. The nicotine withdrawal manifested itself as utter loss of hope and joy. Absolutely convinced that one cigarette would heal every hurt in the world. Anger took hold. Cleared away everything that reminded of cigarettes. Washed ashtray and put it in the kitchen. Dumped all rolling tobacco from back home into suitcase.
Willpower: Kill me.
Two days: I am become Death; destroyer of worlds. GIT became fucked up. Went to class and felt the overpowering desire to kill everything. Stalked a person who was smoking. The puffs of smoke left behind was orgasmic. Ran home and cried like a bitch.
Two days and a half: Hands clenched permanently. Teeth grit permanently. Crawled to suitcase and retrieved tobacco. Rolled on as the world laughed. Smoked one. As the nicotine hit home, I saw galaxies collide.
All is not lost, though. I'm on a one a day regiment. This might maybe probably definitely change in the near future.
It's an insane thing; addictions. At one point, you're damned sure you got over it. Nothing could break your will, move your mountain of strength. Then five minutes later, you're already fucking it all up.
It feels like hell. It really does. I'm not even talking about the hard stuff. This is cigarettes we're talking about. The mildest of the mild. The kindergarten of drugs. This is nothing. Yet it still fucks your body to no end. I have in front of me right now, seventeen wrappers of biscuits and assorted candy; things I used to take my mind off of smoking. Seventeen!
And I remember finishing a packet of biscuits and feeling fucking angry at the fucking packet for being depleted. Do you understand that shit? I was angry. At a packet of biscuits. Because I ate it. How fucking fucked up is that?
Addiction is a mad cunt. For people who go around looking down on smokers and alcoholics and junkies, you better fucking pay attention. It's a big fucking deal. If it was easy to stop, everybody would've been a fucking model citizen by now. It's not easy, man.
I can't even write anymore right now because I feel the urge to smoke again. Do you understand the fucking hell I'm in? Of course you don't. You're better than me.
Edit: Apparently one of the 'tips' to quitting smoking is to take up a hobby. Such as dancing. Oh I will dance alright. With a fucking chainsaw in my hands.
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