Today marks 30 days without coffee and cigarettes.
I wrote the first sentence of this post eight hours ago when I woke up. I’ve spent those past eight hours trying to figure out what else to write… and I just keep coming up empty.
I’m so tired of struggling through the withdrawals, and the cravings… and blogging about it all… and striving to capture each feeling, and thought pattern, and belief system, that play into the addiction…
And right now at least, I honestly feel like nothing I could type is going to make any more of a difference.
So I’m just going to note that, 30 days in, I feel like, sure, I can live without coffee and cigarettes… but I’m still not sure yet, that I actually want to. (And I don’t know if that’s because I really haven’t made that choice yet, or if it’s still part of the overall withdrawal symptoms. I just know it really sucks to feel this way, and to be so consumed by it all, that I don’t have anything to give in any other area of my life.)
There are a lot of other things I want to be doing (and a lot of other things I want to be blogging about), but I feel like none of that even matters… like none of it is even worth pursuing… until I can wake up each morning, and know that I can do all those things, and not have to worry that I’m going to go back to the addictions… and right now (even on Day 30), it’s pretty much all I can do, to lie (or sit) in bed all day, and wait for the cravings to pass.