Ugh. Here we go again.
Ever since I stopped wearing nicotine patches - unintentionally, at first - I've seemingly gone back to square one.
I've been through that smug "I can do it" phase. And now I'm in that sh**y "I really want a cigarette - I could have just one" phase. Which is stupid, because, psychologically, I don't want one at all. It's just the next step in trying to kick the physical addiction.
When I first quit, I received a bit of flak - both from readers, and in my day-to-day life - for going on patches rather than going cold turkey. And yes, I was warned that this phase - the inevitable coming off patches - totally sucks.
But I'm also big enough to admit I couldn't have even got here without being on patches on the first place. I would have caved long ago. And that's where the patches are so helpful - they make the impossible seem possible. Or, more accurately, the possible not seem impossible.
Where you go from there is up to you. And in a way, that's the scariest part. It's now down to me, alone, without my chemical crutch.
I smelt a cigarette as I walked down Queen St yesterday afternoon, and I wanted one so bad, I thought about stopping in at a dairy so I could buy a packet and smoke one - just one.
But I didn't. I'm stronger than that - I'm strong enough to admit how weak I still am.
To take part in Stoptober, visit www.stoptober.nz
For help quitting, visit Quitline at www.quit.org.nz or phone 0800 778 778