Having struggled with depression for years and years, over and over, cigarettes or no, it helps me to look back over the past couple of weeks to what I got through without smoking. The first few weeks held surprises that would have splattered me into a chain-smoking mess. As it was, I was just a mess, on the phone making appointments, unable to talk in coherent sentences, shaking in the waiting room.
When you're depressed, I know, you feel like you have to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING to make it better. And smoking is so easy and immediate. What would be hard is to pick up the phone and make an appointment at the therapist's office. That's tough. Even tougher, to tell them you need to be seen right away. Tougher, to admit you may need medication for depression, even you may need to consider separation from your husband, who's not helping in this thing that would make your life so much better. That's no one's place but your own to decide, but those are options. Very scary ones.
But if you were to consider them, that would be courageous, and it would be for you. It would be very strong.
And compared to dying that ghastly death from smoking, what's scary?
Don't give up on yourself. You can quit smoking.
