Post by judyb on Mar 18, 2018 7:14:06 GMT -5
That feeling that you're missing something is really the sense of
change that is part of the grieving process associated with
quitting. You're missing something that has been a part of your
life for a long time. That same feeling exists for people who get
out of prison. They're happy to be free, but "something's
missing." What's missing is your former master.
The beast disguises this sense of change with a veil of sadness.
Look through the veil and see that the beast beckons with offers
of false pleasure.
Yes, being an ex-smoker is different than being a non-smoker
who never smoked. But the fact is that you can never go back
and be a "never-smoked" non-smoker. That bell has rung and
you can't unring it. Be happy for your newfound sight. You can
see the beast behind his subtle temptations. Everytime you
recognize the beast behind one of his masks, you gain a little
more strength, a little more resolve, a little more skill at being a
non-smoker.
I am tremendously proud of you. You went into a situation
that was fraught with triggers at every turn. It would have
seemed like the most natural thing in the world to light up a
cigaret. But you recognized the beast, you saw through his
insideous disguises and were victorious. That took an incredible
amount of strength and resolve. Would you have been able to
resist the temptations to smoke at last year's BBQ ... even if you
wanted to? I don't think so. You've come a long way, (Baby) in
the past 1m1w4d. I hope you're as proud of you as I am.
In the beginning of a quit, the war rages at every moment of the
day with valiant battles and heroic efforts all full of sound and
fury. The beast charges headon and at our every flank as we
struggle to survive another moment, another hour, another day.
We number our Quit in hours and minutes, then days then
weeks and, perhaps, into months. We cling to every milestone,
we chart every cigaret not smoked, we count the dollars and
pennies saved. We survive from trigger to trigger, from
temptation to pitfall, we defend, we parry, we post and we get
pretty d**ned tired. We start to wonder why we quit. We doubt
our own resolve, our own reasons for quitting, our own sanity.
The beast is a strong and confident veteran and we are but
recent recruits on the battlefield. But the war is new, the battles
are big, the struggles are huge and the victories are glorious.
If we can survive the beasts initial onslaught, the battles change.
The war goes on, but the battles become smaller, quieter, less
frequent, more routine. After a while, the battles come and go
as a matter of routine. At times the battle passes with barely a
blip on the radar of our consciouness. That nasty old nicobeast
drags his sorry old carcass out onto the battle field, he struggles
to wave his rusty old sword. The once haughty veteran is now
old, feeble (though still treacherous). It is now you who have
become so strong, so confident, so wise to the beast and his
battle plans that he can often be dismissed with a spit in his
eye. The battle gets easier. You become less concerned with the
war and more concerned with life.
Life is sweeter, breathing is easier, the triggers lose their sting
as you face each new situation without the vile beast biting your
back.
And you will be a non-smoker.
Congratulations on the latest victory.
Vince
change that is part of the grieving process associated with
quitting. You're missing something that has been a part of your
life for a long time. That same feeling exists for people who get
out of prison. They're happy to be free, but "something's
missing." What's missing is your former master.
The beast disguises this sense of change with a veil of sadness.
Look through the veil and see that the beast beckons with offers
of false pleasure.
Yes, being an ex-smoker is different than being a non-smoker
who never smoked. But the fact is that you can never go back
and be a "never-smoked" non-smoker. That bell has rung and
you can't unring it. Be happy for your newfound sight. You can
see the beast behind his subtle temptations. Everytime you
recognize the beast behind one of his masks, you gain a little
more strength, a little more resolve, a little more skill at being a
non-smoker.
I am tremendously proud of you. You went into a situation
that was fraught with triggers at every turn. It would have
seemed like the most natural thing in the world to light up a
cigaret. But you recognized the beast, you saw through his
insideous disguises and were victorious. That took an incredible
amount of strength and resolve. Would you have been able to
resist the temptations to smoke at last year's BBQ ... even if you
wanted to? I don't think so. You've come a long way, (Baby) in
the past 1m1w4d. I hope you're as proud of you as I am.
In the beginning of a quit, the war rages at every moment of the
day with valiant battles and heroic efforts all full of sound and
fury. The beast charges headon and at our every flank as we
struggle to survive another moment, another hour, another day.
We number our Quit in hours and minutes, then days then
weeks and, perhaps, into months. We cling to every milestone,
we chart every cigaret not smoked, we count the dollars and
pennies saved. We survive from trigger to trigger, from
temptation to pitfall, we defend, we parry, we post and we get
pretty d**ned tired. We start to wonder why we quit. We doubt
our own resolve, our own reasons for quitting, our own sanity.
The beast is a strong and confident veteran and we are but
recent recruits on the battlefield. But the war is new, the battles
are big, the struggles are huge and the victories are glorious.
If we can survive the beasts initial onslaught, the battles change.
The war goes on, but the battles become smaller, quieter, less
frequent, more routine. After a while, the battles come and go
as a matter of routine. At times the battle passes with barely a
blip on the radar of our consciouness. That nasty old nicobeast
drags his sorry old carcass out onto the battle field, he struggles
to wave his rusty old sword. The once haughty veteran is now
old, feeble (though still treacherous). It is now you who have
become so strong, so confident, so wise to the beast and his
battle plans that he can often be dismissed with a spit in his
eye. The battle gets easier. You become less concerned with the
war and more concerned with life.
Life is sweeter, breathing is easier, the triggers lose their sting
as you face each new situation without the vile beast biting your
back.
And you will be a non-smoker.
Congratulations on the latest victory.
Vince