Quitting makes you miserable. FACT.
I've been very low without my precious cigarettes this week.
I admit I hated myself for it, but I was becoming increasingly smug that the two-month milestone of being a 'non-smoker' was approaching.
No patches, no gum, no sneaky drags here a
nd there. Cold turkey and, so far, not one slip-up.
Smug, smug, smug.
This time last week I genuinely believed I was no longer controlled by nicotine and was fairly chuffed at the prospect.
So imagine my horror when this week I found myself in tears because I wanted a cigarette so desperately!
It seriously knocked my superiority complex, as well as my confidence (having only just resurrected my social life after weeks of avoiding my smoking friends.)
Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's Christmas stress - whatever it is, it's making me feel rubbish.
And the only thing I want to cheer me up (short of an all expenses paid trip somewhere very warm) is a packet of fags.
You can be mad at your partner, feel let down by your mates, and your family could be driving you up the wall, but one friend will always be on your side making you feel better.
It comes in a neat little stick with Silk Cut written on the side of it.
And now they've gone too.
I will be two months 'smoke-free' on Sunday, saving me an estimated £224. I think it's about time I cashed it in at a Spa somewhere.
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