Chantix™ Day Seven, or How I Stayed In Bed Today

Day seven of varenicline.

Here are the pros of this drug:
I can tell it’s reducing my urge to smoke. I have a thought to go outside and have one, but then immediately say, “nah, I’m okay.” That’s good.

Here are the cons of this drug:
Remember almost two years ago when after my hysterectomy I started taking Wellbutrin to help with wild mood monsoons and to also help me quit smoking but all I did was cry and I cried over scrambled eggs? Yeah, that was awesome.

This weekend was my visit with Dad and I also decided to go see my mom. Fun! I was at Mom’s Saturday and was petting Blue and started crying because he is old. I grabbed both his fluffy cheeks in my hands and he licked my nose and I bawled for a while. It was great.

Yesterday was Dad’s turn, and it’s already emotional without Chantix fucking me up, and the visit went well, but this morning, I didn’t want to get out of bed because of the crippling anxiety and sadness I feel over yesterday. I tried getting up. I did get up. I put on my work clothes and shoes and had my hand on the doorknob to the bedroom and I just couldn’t. I burst into tears. I called my boss and left an incoherent message that was basically me saying, “it’s Erin, I’m taking a personal daaaaaaayyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh,” followed by unintelligible rambling.

And my sleep is starting to suffer. Not really with the dreams thing, although those are starting to change a bit–everything seems more like it’s realistic, as in actually happening, which is different. The biggest problem is I’m restless all night. I toss and turn. I hate that.

But hey! I only had one cigarette so far today! Woot woot! Crippling anxiety and depression? Who cares! I only smoked once! Aaaawwww yeeeeaaaaahhhhhh!

Many of you may be asking yourself, “why the shit are you taking this drug if it’s causing you so many problems? And why complain about them since you’re the one who decided to take it?”

Those are good questions, and I’m glad you asked them.

I know myself. My willpower is shit. This is my 4th serious attempt at quitting. That does not count the 4,000 times I’ve said, “man, I gotta quit smoking,” amp myself up to quit, then when the day comes, I lie to myself and say, “oh well, I wasn’t ready yet.” I’m tired of failing at this. I needed some major help with kicking the habit. I’ve tried cold turkey. I didn’t make it longer than a week both times. I tried gum and patches. I went a few weeks, then I started smoking again. I tried quitting with old Roommate Steve two different times–one was when I used the vaporizer and quit for 6 months; the other was when he took Chantix and I just quit. I lasted about 2 months that time.

I just need something more to help me.

As for the bitching about the side effects? It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t bitch about something.

And there it is. Tomorrow should be funner than ever because it’s when I crank this mother up and start taking 1mg in the morning and at night. But  for now, I’ll continue laying in bed today, enjoying my mood under the covers.

Okay bye,

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