Hey, all! Checking in because I've had an intense week dealing with my feelings and thoughts about cigarettes and I just wanted to talk through them.
One of my best derby-friends quit smoking a week ago! So proud of her. She's been absent from the team, due to some personal issues, and I'm just so happy she's finally getting to a point in her life where she is supported and can pursue a healthier, happier life.
Last night I had another smoking dream. Normally when I have them, I wake up crying because I'm so upset with myself and it definitely wasn't even worth it in the dream. This time, I woke up and wanted to cry because I remembered how much I enjoyed smoking. Then, on my way into work, I was waiting at the elevator with three very obvious (smelly) smokers, and I felt physically nauseous. The smell was so intense, just like it was when I first quit, and I had a really intense negative emotional response. I thought I was going to throw up so instead I walked up 5 flights of stairs.
I didn't think I would even make it this far. You know? This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. But it's like when you're running. You get to this point where your brain is doing all the talking "I am so tired. My legs hurt. I can't go much further. This sucks. I want a cookie." If you force yourself to relax your muscles as much as possible, breathe deep, and keep going, you slip into the happy, zen place. The place where you're proud that you've kept going, where you can feel your body doing the right stuff to keep you moving. When you hit your groove.
I feel like I'm starting to hit my groove. I am healthier since I quit. I haven't missed work for a respiratory related illness in 4 months. I can tell that my body is doing some real healing. It's pretty sweet. It's over a year, and I don't regret quiting. I'm proud of myself for making it this far and I have every intention of making it much, much farther.
I just have to keep taking the stairs, when I need to.
Hope y'all are surviving and thriving.
❤️
