No doubt about it—mornings are brutal when you're trying to quit smoking. That long stretch of unconsciousness without nicotine turns me into a grumpy little smoke monster the moment I open my eyes. Before my feet hit the floor, my brain is already begging for a cigarette. Pair that craving with my coffee addiction, and you’ve got the breakfast of champions: caffeine and carcinogens.
Now, I’m no stranger to the kitchen. I can cook a mean hash and eggs—greasy, golden, and comforting. But let’s be honest, I’m not quite at the “replace smokes with scrambled eggs” phase of detox yet. The thought is there, but the motivation is still snoozing.
So what’s the plan?
Enter: the patch. My little square hero. These nicotine patches work quietly in the background, releasing a steady stream of the good stuff throughout the night so I don’t wake up clawing at the walls. They also come with a surprising perk I didn’t see coming—wild, Technicolor dreams.
As an artist and natural-born daydreamer, my imagination already puts on a nightly show. But with the patch on, my dreams become... cinematic. Sometimes they drift into the realm of the bizarre (hello, flying turtles and talking elevators), and sometimes, they’re tender and strange—a beautiful woman whispering me awake with the dawn, maybe a muse sent by nicotine itself.
Not every dream is a delight—some nights bring nightmares too. But I’ll take that risk if it means waking up with fewer urges gnawing at my sanity.
Today’s Progress:
Let’s keep it real. Mornings are still my Mount Everest. I wake up needing a smoke like a fish needs water. But… progress is progress. I’ve cut down to just two or three cigarettes in the evening, and that tapering is starting to show some promise. When I slap that patch on at night, I feel like I'm preparing for battle—with armor, dreams, and a spark of hope.
The journey isn’t easy, but I’m not backing down.
One patch. One morning. One dream at a time.
by Dan and Bonkers
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