Throw'n my will around

So I have come here to rant away about my quitting smoking. I do not call my self an addict in the heroin/alcohol sense. Whether I should or not, is not a question I can answer. Being a 'normie' has lead to believe I am not entitled to that label, as surely.... I do not know ANYTHING about real addiction. So I humbly discuss my smoking- whatever it is. I have quit a number of times for various amounts of time, the longest being two years. It keeps good timing with my addict, when he relapses... I clearly need my old faithful friend, the cigarette, around to keep my morale up.

So, I had my last smoke Sunday night. Day 3 I recognize as one of the more difficult times for me and then it slowly dissipates. But.... the flashing moments of complete pissed offness I get that I can't have a cigarette (which was really a choice I made to not have a smoke) gets a little stronger. And then, there is the calm reasoning- which is what I encountered this evening.

It is completely reasonable that I should be able to have one cigarette! So what? I would have one- no one would know, and then it would be done. I would satisfy that urge and then become clear again as to why I don't want to smoke; that, it was, in fact, a choice. Sure, in fact... having one cigarette was quickly becoming the best idea I could have had. Excellent!

It's amazing how wholly and completely the addictive voice can convince you that you are talking- and not that incessant mind fuck chatter that just WANTS WHAT IT FUCKING WANTS, that you really want something that you chose not to have....

and yes, I am wearing the patch. I have nicotine acid flowing through me like electricity- electrifying my dreams.

And still, that little voice made having a cigarette the most sound idea I ever had, a thinking woman's idea, a mature idea. Fucking Fabulous.

So... now I stink and have a horrible taste in my mouth.

whatever.....