This quitting m'larkey is "an emotional rollercoaster". I was feeling so upbeat this morning but this last hour all I've done is cry. Ha ha ha my OH has left me to it, as we know each other by now for him to know I'll be alright and get things out of my system.
Something struck me whilst I was reading Allen Carr. He says "you probably don't remember when your first cigarette was but you'll remember what it was like the first time you smoked it". Well I do remember my first cigarette...my nan had just died from ovarian cancer. My lovely, special nan who was like a 2nd mom to me...she collected me from school everyday when I was a kid for years stopping at the sweetie shop on the way back to her house. The house where I spent more time than my own house. The nan who I related the most to...my friend who I talked to when I couldn't/wouldn't speak to my parents. When she died a long and suffering death at only 52 I felt robbed beyond belief. I was 21 when I first lit that cigarette after my friend at uni told me to smoke one cos "it would make me feel better!". Don't get me wrong I don't blame him for my smoking...that was all my own doing. That stubborness and determination to be able to smoke without coughing and for the taste to not seem shit anymore...well that was all me.
The point of this post is entirely selfish and for myself...as 17 years later from an addiction born out of death...this addiction itself is also dying in order for me to live. Bye, bye fags. I won't miss you but I can't say that I won't ever forget you. Will always love you lillian.