Day 2

Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing this alone - I'm no hero. I'm on the patch, and as always the first stage is overkill for me. I used to smoke about 10 a day, but I swear these patches are geared for more like 20, meaning that despite my quitting I'm actually buzzing my tits off on nicotine. It's a strange sensation to be craving something I'm overdosing on, like my rage is expanding and contracting at the same time. Like my brain is calmly screaming FUCK YOU at itself. Fun, fun, motherfucking fun.

I've tried the patch before and it was the thing that worked best for me, so I've gone back for more. I've quit dozens of times over the last 11 years, tried almost every conceivable way, and only the patch has got me to the stage where I was an annoying ex-smoker, the type of guy who  tells  his former outside-the-pub-comrades that what they are doing is stupid, wrong, pointless and maybe even disgusting. I don't remember why I failed to stay clean that time, but I do remember why I quit on my quitting the first time.

I almost died. I was stressing about some teenage post-millenium bullshit, my mind all ablaze with nicotine deprived distraction when I wondered out into the road without looking. That used to be another bad habit of mine, so much so that my friends and family all knew to look out for me and stop me if metal danger was approaching at high speed. It drove my mother somewhat mad with worry, but then perhaps she was just mad anyway.

I remember exactly where I was when it happened, the look of the car, and the driver, the screech of the tires and my heart exploding out of the starting block into a race. Maybe it wasn't that much of a near miss, but it scared the shit out of me. I went straight to the shops and bought a ten pack (as it was going to be a one off, so I didn't want to own too many) and I sat at a bus stop and chained them, trying to calm down. A girl I had fancied for a while happened past, and we talked about why I was smoking. She smoked, and I knew I was back on the ashen trail if it made me look one iota cooler in her eyes.

As always, I doubt that it did, but we did eventually get together, so maybe it helped. She was my first love, so in a way, I suppose, smoking made my life better once upon a time.

I don't miss it though. Not yet. I want it, I crave it, I kinda fucking need it, but I don't miss it. I'm done with that bullshit. At least I fucking hope I am.