Come Inside My Head, if You Dare…
Friday, January 20th
Dear Diary,
Today marks the 8th month I have not smoked.
Whoopee.
I’m not excited because I have fought with The Bitch on a daily basis. I have used all of my addiction fighting tools the past 2 weeks and I am exhausted. I am also terrified – I feel The Bitch gaining on me.
I need to call in reinforcements…
–
I think ALL of these at the same time might work 😉
October 20th, 2011 – 5 months clean
Dear Diary,
I am losing my mind. I can’t get cigarettes out of my stupid head.
Lately I think about smoking often throughout the day. The Bitch (my addiction), has been relentless and I feel my stamina eroding. Month 2 was not this bad. I started feeling sorry for myself a couple of weeks ago. Now I’m becoming resentful and bitter. Such fun to be around me.
I have been down this road before and I recognize the self-destructive thoughts and behaviors that come before a relapse. No matter how stubborn I am, no amount of “will-power” is going to save me. The only reason I have not bought a pack of Virginia Slims Menthol this week is not wanting to smoke around my granddaughter – she would not only nag me, but tattle on me as well. There are also a lot of folks rooting for me that I don’t want to disappoint.
I could enjoy one and I’d be able to focus… One with my morning cup of coffee to clear my head… Just a couple drags won’t be a big deal… No one will have to know…
In the substance abuse world, those thoughts are called “romancing the drug” and I have been brought down by their lies before. I can fight back with the STOP technique and remain fairly sane.
What I fear the most are the darker thoughts that come when my defenses are weak and something upsets me: To Hell with this… I can’t fight this anymore… No one gives a shit about what I do, unless they don’t like it…
The official term for this is “having the fuck-its”. (My doctor uses this term so it must be official) It is the most dangerous emotional state of mind for anyone to be in, but it can mean life or death to an addict.
If you arrive at the fuck-its take action immediately! Stop thinking and call a friend, get out of the house, take a break from work. Stay home in your jammies and read a good book or watch soaps. Pamper yourself. Sleep. Meditate. Pray. If you’re hyperactive (like I am) take advantage and clean your house, cupboards, something. Anything but give up!
I know this is easy to say, and nearly impossible to do, when you are pissed off at everything and tired of fighting with yourself and your addiction. I have personal experience with the fuck-its. I relapsed back into a pack-a-day habit after being clean for 10-years. 10 years!
I am not trying to frighten or lecture here. Only want to pass on what I’ve learned in case it could help someone else. And of course to vent, whine and dis The Bitch while I’m at it.
😉
True to my word last week, I managed to drop my scheduled daily recordings of my soaps. I still have saved ones that I’m watching while in the kitchen, or folding laundry in the living room. I have 16 episodes left (8 for each soap). I hate to admit it, but I have started to worry about said soaps. Will the trial be over in eight more episodes? Will I miss Victoria and Billy running into each other? Important crap like that.
I am coping with this pre-abstinence behavior by focusing on what I won’t miss about my soaps. There are many things, actually. Today’s episodes (1 of each) reminded me of some of the really annoying ones..
Like that damned Chloë – I can’t stand her constant whining. Every day it’s something. Jill and Catherine are still fighting after 39-years, and just when you think that Jill has found her true mother – you’re wrong.
And we have spent WAY too many episodes listening to everyone in town going on and on about Hope’s virginity. Especially Hope. She is so sickly-sweet that I have to inject more insulin when watching her.
That reminds me of Sharon Newman’s too sweet to be true personality. I will miss seeing her ex, Nicholas, though. Yum. But I digress…
What is with Ridge Forrester’s haircut? Are they making him look like an old fuddy-duddy on purpose, or was it a horrible accident? Then there is Stephie Forrester. I love her new haircut. But when is somebody going to shoot the bitch? I am so tired of her I’m-a-little-princess attitude and her slutty ways. I suspect she is the progeny of Taylor and Bill Spencer, but I’m not going to wait around for that revelation.
And don’t get me started on Victor Newman. Just don’t. 
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