Practice, Practice, the art of Practice

I decided to stop smoking today. No--really. I decided to stop smoking today, after a week. Sort of.
I smoked black and milds, almost religiously, starting about two months ago. I want to say it was because I wanted to, because I liked them, and, yeah I did, but that's not why. I needed something. So, over the past 3 months, I've covered everything up with alcohol and black and milds. Something to do, something else to think about.

But after some recent events, good, amazing, and bad, I've really come to terms with who I'd become. I was raging, kicking and screaming -- I was out of control. So unlike me. SO unlike me. And so I've discovered that maybe I don't need the substitutes anymore, maybe --

I started smoking cigarettes just this week. And today when I bought another pack and smoked one after class, I realized that I was at a crucial point. This is the point where I'm wanting to smoke. This is the point where I'm just starting to get addicted. This is the point to get out.

So I am. Today I rounded up all my lighters, all 6 of them that I could find, and gave them along with the pack of cigs to Matt. I told him not to let me smoke anymore. "be mean" I said, and I hope he is, if he needs to be. I know he can do it. For me. He's good for me.

So wish me luck. I have 0% self control, always been that way. I want one right now, and yeah, I could go buy some. I want to. But more than that, I want to win. For once, I want to fucking win. I never put up a fight, ever, for anything. But this is it, this is the first, and this I will win. So wish me luck...