Perseverance vs. Desperation

I originally thought up this post last night in regards to human relationships, specifically my own (obviously) and my often sad attempts at chasing after women that have no interest in me.  However, as I typed that title, a new subject burst into my mind.

I decided a few days ago to quit smoking when I ran out of cigarettes, so clearly every topic that comes to mind now reminds me of smoking. Since I had three packs on hand, it took a while to run out, but it finally happened this morning. So I went out for my morning cigarette, savored it, and threw it out. Never again, I told myself. No more smoking, no more buying cigarettes, nothing.

So that’s obviously where perseverance comes in. It’s a strange thing, not smoking anymore. It’s not even that I’m really going through withdrawal. I mean, of course I am, but I expected worse. Instead it’s a matter of…well, what am I supposed to do, then? I finished eating, and now I…don’t go smoke. I went for a walk to the store, and now…my hands are empty. I feel naked, in some strange way. The habit became so natural to me that it was a part of me, much like when I stopped wearing my rings and I couldn’t stop subconsciously rubbing my fingers for weeks afterward.

And then the desperation. Don’t get me wrong, I want one. I want ten. Badly. I’ve been forcing myself to do a combination of jumping jacks, sit-ups, push-ups, squats, lunges, and static holds every time I really wanted to go outside, but now my body is incredibly sore and I can’t do more than about four sit-ups before my stomach dies. I want to just keep eating because if the end of a meal never comes, then I won’t want to smoke. Clearly not the best idea, so instead I went to the store and bought some spring mix, dressing, apples, bananas, and nuts with the intention of eating a bit healthier and not gorging myself on crap every day. Granted, I won’t be strictly eating just this kind of stuff now. I honestly don’t think I have the willpower to handle that much change all at once. Just a meal here and there, a bowl of ramen replaced with a salad – that should do me some good, I think.

I’ve been told the first three days are the most difficult. I wish I had looked at what time I had that last one today. It was probably between 11a-1p, so let’s say it was at noon. That puts me eight hours in, and I am a terribly unpleasant fellow right now.

The strange thing is, I have absolutely no desire to quit. I like it. It gives me breaks from anything ever. It is a permanent excuse for five minutes of alone time, which anyone that knows me knows I am in dire need of when in the company of others. Especially lately. My god, especially lately. But that’s a story for another day, if I feel like telling it.

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