It’s the start of day four.
I decided to quit after the first smoke on election day. An adrenaline rush helps us to wake up, but since nicotine increases adrenaline, the result can feel like a heart attack, or maybe it really is a heart attack. I didn’t bother to find out.
I’ve quit at least three times before: when I was pregnant, when I lived in Orange County, California and after I came back to Mass. I remember exactly when I started smoking again the last time: in the middle of my first commercial .NET project, about four years ago.
Giving up this particular addiction requires a switch to go off in your head, and it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what makes one event different from another.
My grandkids have hated smoking and been outspoken about it for years. I haven’t smoked indoors since probably the late-1980’s, so the inconvenience or social ostracism factors haven’t changed. The cost has gone up, but I could certainly afford this one vice. There are no new treatments and in fact, 90% of those who quit smoking go cold turkey anyway.
Rather, I think it was the association with mortal fear that caused the switch to go off in my head. Satisfying a brief (some have measured it at two minutes or less) nicotine craving isn’t worth another experience like I had this past Tuesday.
I’ve let the people at work as well as my family know about this, and my boss said he’s staying far away from me, haha.