I was prepared for the cravings. I wasn't prepared for the shivering and sweats, the runny nose, the nausea, the tickly throat. And now, the hacking cough.
My breathing feels worse than before I quit. It's like a cold, or blocked-up sinuses, but without any of the familial sympathy. I'm already starting to expel yellowy-brown globs from deep within my chest. I hadn't expected it so soon - it took a lot longer to get to this point during previous quitting attempts. And this time, it feels terrible.
Maybe it's not the quitting. Maybe I just feel like sh**. Maybe I'm run down and tired from all the effort it takes not to just rip off the patch, grab some smokes and go for it.
Or maybe it's because giving up smoking is apparently harder than giving up heroin.
But strangely, I don't really feel like smoking. I keep thinking about it all the time - sometimes intensely - but the thought of actually having a cigarette doesn't make me feel any better. The thought is starting to disgust me. The smell on my clothes; the heaviness in my lungs; the idle pacing as I'm ostracised outside in Auckland's terrible spring weather - none of it seems worth it.
I spent a few hours with my son this morning, just the two of us, while my partner slept. It felt great that I didn't have to go outside to fulfill my morning craving before coming back inside, riddled with guilt, carcinogens clinging to my clothes. I felt free, at peace.
I know quitting has its ups and downs. Tomorrow might be harder. But today, despite my body's protests, I felt at ease.
To take part in Stoptober, visit www.stoptober.nz
For help quitting, visit Quitline at www.quit.org.nz or phone 0800 778 778