Smoking....or Not

        I quit smoking. Yep, I did it. Alone too. Sixty days. Huge accomplishment, right?
 So how come I don't feel like I've accomplished anything? How come I still want to smoke like every millisecond?
          Maybe its because I don't feel really any different. I was actually a pretty healthy smoker. (If there really is such a thing.) I like to walk, and played tennis with great vigor, messed around playing football and basketball with the boys. I wasn't dying not being able to breath. Well I was, but that was only during allergy season. (That crap isn't going anywhere EVER.)
         Maybe it is because I've put on a shit ton of weight and feel like a depressed fat load, and now I don't want to go out and exercise. My skin looks like shit! What the hell is this about? I thought quitting smoking made you look better, feel better, BE better. I don't sleep anymore, and when I do, I dream about myself smoking, or my husband smoking. So either way, I wake up upset at someone.
         No one tells you the crap parts of quitting. When I told my doctor what was going on, she said it'll be worth it in the long run. AWESOME. When the hell will that be?  Because right now, well right now Sucks.
        I know it is childish, how I feel. I know that my children will be better off and I will be better off. But right now, I resent my friends who still smoke. I am jealous of their every puff. Its not fair that they can do this, and be healthy, and not care what is or isn't happening to them. I know this is just the addict in me talking. I know that the voice I hear is the nicotine trying to get me to buy back in. But right now, I get scared that that voice, is me.
            This is not an anti quit diatribe, just the ranting of a near crazed lady.