Day 8 really wasn’t that bad so I have little to say, and, as I am saying it well into the afternoon of Day 9, I have new issues to cope with.
Of course the little devilish Minions tried to make Monday as blue as possible and their coaxing little voices rarely let up, but I was again able to resist their forked tongues and went to bed at 10pm still an ex-smoker.
Mentally I feel okay, but physically I am suffering a bit.
And not only because of the cravings, I am starting to develop a real smoker’s cough – could be that my lungs are healing and trying to get rid of the nasty tar and chemical lining. And it will take a while, as we’re talking 40 years’ accumulation of muck.
I am also feeling a bit light-headed and queasy – typical symptoms of nicotine withdrawal. And, if I slept three hours last night, it’s a lot. My insomnia is bad, but strangely enough, I don’t really feel tired. I do have a slight headache most of the time, but nothing that two Panados can’t sort out.
When I lie awake at night, I don’t toss and turn - I speak to my aunt in Melbourne (9 hours Down Under), read, or listen to music. I also catch up on interesting doccies forwarded by friends.
So, there’s lots to do, although, just more than a week ago, I would have done the same things if I couldn’t sleep, only with a cigarette in hand.
Luckily, in spite of the physical discomforts, I am not depressed.
And I think the reason is that my new love, who quit smoking ages ago, is coming to visit for an entire week. I want to show him I can do it too. We’re not in competition, but a girl’s got her pride.
I have always been good at relativising things. For example, when as a young girl and woman it was “that time of month” and I felt a bit down - as most females do over those few days - I would just say to myself it’s perfectly natural to feel the way I do as my hormones are acting up, and there’s no other reason to feel sad. And just like that I would feel better. Or, so I kept telling myself.
Now I’m doing the same: I know it’s just my nicotine level that causes some physical and mental discomfort, and it’s nothing to worry about.
So there, you pesky little Minions, go fly a kite!
