I’m on my sixth day as an ex-smoker. Although I don’t feel comfortable or confident saying that. I’m a smoker that hasn’t smoked for five days, and I’m working on not smoking for a sixth consecutive day. This, rather pathetically, is the longest period of non-smoking I’ve had since I stopped smoking cigarettes in 2002-03 for a little bit over a year. I’ve had several tries since then, but none of them have gone beyond three or four days. That longest period of stopping was aided by acupuncture. I had a little metal coil-y thingy put in my ear and the doctor told me to just push on it when I felt the urge to smoke. Pretty effective it was, too. I remember that the day after I’d stopped, England played Argentina in the World Cup. And I managed to get through that game alright. I’m not exactly going cold turkey this time; I have some NiQuitin lozenges I bought when I was in England over the holidays. They do help take a bit of the edge off.
This, though, is the first time I’ve attempted to give up—and got this far—when I’ve been single and freelance. No girlfriend or colleagues to keep me honest. First day was fine. Second day was a bit more difficult. The thing I hated the most on the second day was forgetting about it. I’d be doing something, and suddenly think, “cigarette!” and then, oh, can’t. Frowny face. Third day was the worst so far. I truly hated everyone that day. I could happily have gotten into a fight on Saturday and I wouldn’t really have cared if I won the fight or not. Day four, though, was the best to date. Felt like I’d turned a corner. The last day and a half, though, I’ve been edging back towards that day three feeling. Just feel like a right grumpy cunt today. I wanna burst your balloon. I wanna cut you off in traffic. I wanna tell you what happens at the end of the film you’re about to watch.
But, over halfway through this sixth day, I’m determined to keep in up. This is an unending war, I fear. Just a war I may slowly become more comfortable with fighting.