Diary of a Nicotine Addict: 8 months clean

Friday, January 20th

Dear Diary,

Today marks the 8th month I have not smoked.


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…

Side Effects of Nicotine
Scare Tactics?
Phoenix Age 7
Tough Love?
Heavy Arillery
The National Guard?
Bad Ass Guardian Angel
Bad Ass Guardian Angel?

I think ALL of these at the same time might work 😉

Diary of a Nicotine Addict: Month 5

October 20th, 2011 – 5 months clean

Dear Diary,
I am losing my mind. I can’t get cigarettes out of my stupid head.

Addiction Poster
The Bitch

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.


Diary of a Nicotine Addict: Day 3

Heavy Arillery
This is War!!!

Sunday, May 22nd, 2011

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe I posted such a horrid photo on my blog yesterday. Sorry!

As I sit here, sipping on a Sugar-Free Rock Star because morning coffee really gets me jonesing for a cigarette, The Bitch is setting me up. What pisses me off the most is I know she is trying to sabotage me and yet I can’t stop her.

Welcome to addiction, where knowledge is not much power.

This morning her tactic is self-pity and resentment. (The Bitch is bringing out the heavy artillery already and I don’t know whether to be proud of this or terrified.)  She attacks in the mornings because that is when I have the most awareness and energy. One or two little thoughts planted into my head can fester into a full-blown pity-party by noon.

This mornings thought: You would think your husband would mention how nice you smell.

That fleeting thought brings back to me all the times he told me I smelled like an ashtray. I start to feel resentful, then I pity poor little me, who smells NOT like an ashtray and nobody cares.

My next reaction is to retaliate. Should I pile on my favorite perfume until he notices?  The man is not even out of bed yet and already in trouble.

He will probably get used to this as time goes on…