I don't think I blogged about my journey into non-smokerdom, but last year, shortly before my trip to Uganda, I set about on a quest to free myself from a nasty addiction. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. All my close friends smoked. I was living with a smoker, so our apartment smelled like smoke pretty much all the time. I fought against years of engrained smoking habits. The walking-to-the-bus-smoke. The with-a-glass-of-wine-smoke. The patio-smoke. The I'm-bored-smoke. And the I'm-stressed-smoke. And the I'm-angry-smoke. And all the rest of them. I did it though-- the patch helped me with the physical cravings while I retrained myself of all my psychological habits. And I was smoke-free for almost a year. Despite it being one of the most challenging years ever - despite the stress of school and the worst break up ever, and the move from hell, I maintained my status as a non-smoker. Until Siris went missing that day, and then, I'm ashamed to admit it, but here it is: I fell off the wagon.
For the months of May and June, I got back together with my old pal cigarettes. How quickly I fell into old habits. Awful. I hated my clothes smelling like cigarettes. I hated needing one with my morning coffee, and I definitely hated the money I was wasting on my dirty little habit. Most of all though, I hated the feeling that I had caved, I had failed, I was weak. Boooourns.
So, I'm on the patch again. Day five of my new life as a non smoker. I like the patch because you simply can't smoke when you're on it. You could have a stroke. That's incentive enough for me. I can't stop thinking about cigarettes, but I know that slowly that will go away. By the time school starts again I should have weaned myself off the patch and be fully rehabilitated.
But man, the dreams! I had forgotten about the vivid dreams you get when you've got a nicotine patch slapped on.
Two days ago, I dreamed I was at a wedding - either the bride or the groom was related to me, which I knew in the dream, even though I couldn't see either of them, so I don't actually know whose wedding it was. Dr. Phil was there, with his wife. (I know - random, right? Dr. Phil is haunting my dreams? Really?) They were related to the either the bride or the groom too, but not on my side. Dr. Phil was up there on stage, making eyes at his stupid wife and talking about how this was going to be "A Changing Day" for the couple. He kept blabbing on and on, while I kept trying to see who was actually getting married. Whoever they were, Dr. Phil was totally hijacking their wedding.
Yesterday I dreamed about a toddler girl who was getting her eyebrows threaded. Seriously, she was a two year old, cute as a button, getting her eyebrows threaded by some little old chinese lady in a basement somewhere. Weeeeird.
I almost never remember my dreams, and this week, they've been waking me up in the middle of the night. I hope once I'm down to a lower dosage patch I can go back to my regular dreamless, deep slumber nights.