It took me until 1989 before I got out of denial that I was not going to get better, that this was a progressive disease and that I surely was on my way to meet my maker. To try to describe the process after the fact now is virtually impossible as all the feelings I experienced were lost the moment they occurred. I remember some of the anxiety of wanting to scream and to cry and feeling my mind was going berserk. And I can even remember feeling like my skin was crawling, and of feeling 'things' swimming in my veins. I even had several dreams of smoking.
Addiction is a terrible dragon to slay.
Anything you can do to occupy the mind so it will not think of smoking. By the summer of 1990 we moved to Pa. as the company my husband worked for transferred us. His family just so happened to live here and he got to spend his fathers last years not to far from him. We spent first year in rented home looking for one to buy. By the next year we were in our own home.