becoming unhinged

Now I know why all mental patients smoke like fiends.  Smoking keeps back the darkness.
 
Even with the Nicorette gum, I’m jittery, anxious, tired and nervous.  I can’t really relax.  Really relaxing involves lighting up, sucking in that cool Carolina flavor and feeling my chest expand with smoke.  Now, that’s relaxing.
 
Drinking water, staying busy, and chewing nicotine-laced gum in almost the opposite of relaxing. It’s like climbing oil coated stairs. When I take a deep breath, there’s only air, and I feel like – oddly enough – I can’t breath.
 
For over a quarter of a century my little tubular friends helped me hold back the darkness. Hell, they did all the work, all I had to do was inhale. How does anyone get through the day without twenty or thirty cigarettes???
 
I feel like I’m dying, though the exact opposite is happening; my lungs are starting to clear a bit and I have a little bit – and I mean just an iota – more of stamina.
 
I’m depressed and I’m starting to see things out of the corner of my eyes.  Could cigarettes have been keeping me from developing psychosis?  Is is just I haven’t pulled my hair back for two days and I’m see strands of hair?  I guess we’ll know in a few weeks when I’m either starting my new health(ier) life or I’m strapped down to a gurney in a psych ward, listening to other patients scream about bugs.
 
Nothing’s making me feel better. I’ve done a bunch of chores but nothing gives me a sense of accomplishment because there’s no smoke reward. Even internet pornography isn’t helping, though I bravely gave it a try.  I don’t know if actual physical contact with a living woman would even help at this point.
 
This is A DAY AND A HALF of quitting! What about a week and a half, a month and a half??
 
Since I went off the Chantix I’ve quit for a day or two here and there, but this is the worse.  Maybe I’m motivated to quit so I know that there’s no cheating in the future. I think this is my last chance.  Shit, just writing that made my heart race. I hate this, though I’m glad to be free of giving my money away to the pump jockey at the gas station, and not having to stand on my porch like a dumbass,  looking at the muddy, spotty grass.
 
This is terrible.
 
 
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