Seven Months – No Smoking
I never had a single craving in the early days of quitting and to be honest it was very easy to stub out my last ciggie. Ironically, since I gave up the booze I have had unusual cravings for my Blue Ice. I think it’s more the taste of the menthol that I am missing, as opposed to needing nicotine. Giving in is not an option, but I just find it weird that after all this time I suddenly want to puff.
7 Weeks – No Drinking
The thought of drinking alcohol makes me want to throw up more than I ever did drunk. I’m convinced that a bit of self-hypnosis has gone a long way in this regard, and by that I mean I was so traumatized by the incident and even though the blame lies fully at Fabian’s feet, I can’t help think that if I were sober I’d have been able to escape his clutches that night.
VII Days – No Fabian
You’d think that with the asshole [see portrait above] safely ensconced in a rehabilitation center 70 km away from me that I would free from the narcissistic abusive manipulative addict. Hmph. To cut a long story short, he attempted an escape of sorts, however Harmony and The Universe quickly put a halt to those plans and I don’t have to worry about him for the next five months at least.
Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol or morphine or idealism.
~ Carl Jung ~
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