So I’ve entered into the ninth month in which I’ve not had tobacco. Woke up one morning (obviously 9 months ago) and decided I was going to see how long I could make it without having one, figured I had nothing to lose, and was obviously better off without them.
I’m somewhat flabbergasted at this thought. All this time it’d been so hard, so many compromises just to continue to smoke and this time I managed to just simply walk away. And to top it off, I’ve gone and joined a gym. I guess I’m slowly becoming that person I’ve needed to become, I just don’t know exactly how I got there. And Gods know I wouldn’t know what gifs to post to describe my feels in tumblr language at this point, since it’s a whole bundle of part of me still wants the tobacco flavor and the nicotine rushing through my bloodstream, and the other part of me is nauseated at the thought of smoking again, and then there’s the part that says, “There’s no frakking way I’m every picking up one those sons of bitches… ever”.
One things for sure, I’m not going back to where I was. Ever. There’s so much I have to lose there if I do. Not the least of which is my life. And if I can’t find value in that then what the frak am I doing with my life at this point?
Anyway, summary: 9 months tobacco free, 2 months gym member. Still mentally as bizarre as ever.
Enjoy your weekend.