Still a Nicotine Junkie
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I continue to fail in my repeated attempts to stop smoking.
What defeats me is surprising.
I find myself weary of becoming inert, doing little or nothing. The desire to write or work gnaws at me. Eventually I walk the fraction of a block to the nearby convenience store and buy a pack. And doom myself to continued shortness of breath.
There’s also that tricky part of combating an addiction. Once you feel that you are going to fail - you do. If you think that you’ll eventually give up then there no longer seems like a reason to exert your will and suffer.
And in my specific context I’m haunted by the sense that I’m never going to be able to take as much pleasure in life as I once did. That if I have any desire it will be thwarted. The anticipatory pessimism saps the will.
None of this justifies my failure. Tuesday will begin my next set of days off from the shop. Sunday is Xmas so the store will be closed. Part of feeling foredoomed is wondering how I’ll get through the tedium of Sunday. It won’t be a problem this coming week.
So I’ll try once again.