See more » Quitting Smoking
Yesterday’s entry made little sense.
My excuse is that the Zyban was already making my brain cells bubble.
Been trying to decide how much today was shaped by the Zyban I started taking three days ago. Emotional flatness, sudden manic hunger, a headache that aspirin didn’t ameliorate.
Might’ve happened without the Zyban. (Zyban is Wellbutrin given a new name by a usage patent, one of the ways pharmaceutical manufacturers extract extended profits from drugs that become available as generics.)
Quitting smoking has become one of my highest priorities.
When my ex-lover Charles died my cigarette smoking ascended to its old highs: three or four packs a day. Even with a mild brand like Carlton this is crippling.
I hate it: the shortness of breath, the coughing, the lack of stamina.
I love it. Luxuriating in the coolness of the menthol, how it fills in idle seconds, moving the cigarette to my mouth and inhaling.
I can’t afford it. Really. The cost of my habit - even though the kind folks at the Joy Station as the nearby convenience store is called - saps up money I need things that will benefit me.
When I go to bed tonight I’ll destroy any remaining cigarettes.
When I arise tomorrow I’ll put on a nicotine patch.
Wish me luck.