So... I quit smoking.
It wasn't so much a choice as a necessity. I haven't had any sleep recently, because I've been up all night coughing for the last week or something, and even though there is something oddly romantic about waking up at four in the morning and looking outside your window , it's not so much fun if it's happening ALL the time. Plus, mostly there was less looking outside my window and more curled up in bed in a foetal position hacking like I was sixty or something. And scaring my cat.
After about the third day of this, I realised that a nice cigarette versus feeling my lungs bleed was no contest. (The cigarette had to go, of course, not the lungs, although now, tick tocking into day 3, pffffffft, what's a little cancer?)
How's it been so far, you ask? Well, I have these strange mood swings that keep happening, so one minute I'm fine and the next I'm in the depths of depression. I have INTENSE cravings every now and then where I would kill anything in my path just to get a nicotine fix, but I'm working on that with deep breathing and carrot sticks. Apparently carrots have some sort of chemical in them that resemble, very vaguely, nicotine. I don't know about that, but I like them coz they're roughly the same size as a smoke in my fingers and they keep me from pigging out on the chocolate that is ALSO in my fridge. Oh yeah, I'm eating a LOT. I attempted to keep it under control for a bit but now I'm just going with it. I don't have the energy for THAT much will power.
Basically, quitting smoking has ZERO benefits so far.
I can't go out for a drink, because that might tempt me.
Ditto with smoking friends. (I MADE Lali give me a Godang Garam of which I had one drag and put it out and now it's sitting on my bookshelf mocking me. One more couldn't hurt. No, it could. No, it couldn't. I'm going to hide it now.)
I can't drink coffee.
I'm going to be fat.
Goodbye, post coital cigarette. (In fact, goodbye coital anything since I'm turning into Porky Pig and no one will want to sleep with me anyway)
I think I might cry now. (See what I mean by the mood swings?) Oh sure, less chances of cancer and no premature aging and possibly better skin or something, but they're all such LONG TERM things. I mean, who's to prove that I wouldn't get cancer anyway?
I should've never started smoking in the first place.
By the way, fun fact, all the physical need for a cigarette should be out of my system by tomorrow. After that, I just have to keep telling myself it's psychological.
Psychological, my ass. And my "friends" find this very amusing, this entire quitting thing. I hate everybody. I hate the world. I want to die.