Almost three weeks into my new, nicotine-free life and I’m in a taxi – or maybe it’s a tram. I’m with a friend, though I’m not sure who. I pull a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and light one up. After two deep drags, I stub it out. My mysterious companion asks how it feels, to which I reply: “Tastes disgusting.”
After 19 days without a smoke I feel pretty lousy about this relapse – until I awaken with a surge of relief at the realisation that it’s just a dream; a potent fusion of psychology and neurochemistry playing games with my vulnerable mind.
How to stay motivated and keep striving to reach your goals
At the time of writing this, I’ve made it past the one-month mark, and am determined not to turn back. So what makes me think I’ve won the battle this time?