Am I sure? No. Have I quit? Yes. The last two days have been the worst, even though "they" tell me it's the first three days that are hard. But looking back on my behavior, I just have to laugh at myself. I was sitting in the breakroom with my head against my boyfriend ready to cry. I was moved to the first register where not only do I have to check customers, but I have to deal with cigarettes and the lottery and movie rentals...I kept telling myself if I stayed put a little while longer, I'd ask my friend for a smoke.
It's hilarious how desperate my body is trying to convince my mind to smoke. "It's okay. Just one more...you can even ask him for permission if you want. You don't need to quit. Death by cigarettes isn't in your destiny. You can quit now, and you can always come back to it. Okay, you've quit long enough." etc. etc.
Anxiety and panic are heightened, and I amaze myself by how I can pull through.
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It's hilarious how desperate my body is trying to convince my mind to smoke. "It's okay. Just one more...you can even ask him for permission if you want. You don't need to quit. Death by cigarettes isn't in your destiny. You can quit now, and you can always come back to it. Okay, you've quit long enough." etc. etc.
Anxiety and panic are heightened, and I amaze myself by how I can pull through.
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