Day 34-
I was going to write on Day 30, but the motivation and time escaped me. Work has been constant; 15+ hours/day, some longer, some shorter, and most of them without decent phone reception.
So, day 30 came and went. When I got home that night I checked KTC quick. I was surprised at how many people either commented on roll that day or sent me a pm to congratulate me on 30 days, not to mention the texts I received throughout the day. To me, 30 days was a big achievement but for it to seem to matter and make other people proud as well, made me feel on top of the world.
The next day was Woody's roughest day, and she wrote a post on our Jan quit group that got pretty popular. I had no idea about the post until the next day- all I knew is that her and I were texting. Again, I got messages, pm's, etc. thanking me for helping her. This time I was confused- I was just doing what she had done for me, and what I had done for others. Everyone is in this with each other. This is a website with over 30k quitters.
A few people have stated that I make quitting look easy, I'm so positive, this is looking like a breeze.
I'm sorry, but no.
There is a very dark side to my quit.
One side of me is totally done with chewing- I know I will not cave at this point. When I am done with something, I. Am. Done.
The other side though, I do not like that side. I am angry. I'm angry at myself for chewing in the first place, angry with stupid little things at my job, angry at lack of sleep, etc. At the beginning, the rage was like fireworks- instantly lit, exploding, and then fizzling out. This is a slow, underground, fiercely hot rage that simmers beneath the surface like magma pocket. When it boils over, my hands get bruised and I lose my voice.
If I'm even half an hour late on my medications, the depression and anxiety are overwhelming- thick, hot, and choking. It is a dark place. It is a low place. It is fragile.
The nic bitch is starting to lose her last grasp on my reality and she's slowly realizing it. She's making it painful. She wants her revenge. She's clawing on with one last angry hope.
I'm outwardly positive because the phrase "fake it till you make it" rings true. Helping others helps myself.
If I make it look easy, maybe that will encourage people to keep at it.
If I write this, maybe someone will realize they aren't alone. That this isn't easy, one week in, thirty days in, 100 days in, 1,000 days in.
I thought the phrase "one day at a time" was sort of cheesy, until this past week it turned into "one field of corn at a time" then it turned into "one hour at a time" and then into "one load of corn at a time".
But, at the end of it all, I am still quit.
And this too shall lessen and pass.
