And I do very well for a while. I sometimes feel the need to use, but I can easily control it and get on with my day. Eventually, though, the urge becomes too strong, and I just can't control myself. I backslide. I'm not happy about it, but there it is. Every day I try to quit, and every day I fail, but I pick myself up, replenish my stash if necessary, and vow to try again tomorrow.
Today I almost made it. I got through taking pictures in a thunderstorm, hanging out with friends, a trip to Fry's, ripping apart computers, and dinner. And then, around 10 p.m., I felt a strong itch. I tried to control my need, but I couldn't do it.
Almost frantic, I fumbled around my pocket searching for that substance I craved, the thing that would relieve my pain. My fingers closed around the item I sought, and shoved the magical chemical into my mouth as quickly as I could. Aaahhhhh, sweet ecstasy. I was overcome with relief, but also with shame. I had tried to control my urges, but once again I had failed. I can be strong, though; I know I can.
Just for tomorrow, I will not use.
I admit that I am powerless over Ricola.