I am crazy, do you hear me?????? CRAZY.

I am crazy, and I have an online stalker who enjoys the fact that he is a stalker.

That's just *rich*.

*~*

So, after my last update today, I lost my shit. I haven't heard back from the cutest boy alive, my work is a shitshow right now, and this fucking patch is JOKE. I think they gave me one without nicotine.

So a DL friend sends me some cessation tips and a few online quit smoking URLS and I jump on it. (Better than jumping out of my window, or skin, which I was already doing).

So I call this smoking cessation specialist doctor at the renowned Sloan Kettering hospital in NYC. The man is a GEM.

First, he picks up his direct line and fields my call with no previous history. "Take a deep breathe," he advises as I breathlessly race through run on sentence after run on sentence about what I've done while chomping mercilessly on an innocent piece of Trident someone sacrificed for my cause.

So we figure out, I'm not on a high enough dosage. He instructs me to take another patch and cut it in half and put that on as well. I stick that sucker right on my vein, in the inner elbow area.

If I had a piece of rubber and a some shitty dope I would have spiked that shit up there too.

Within minutes, the world was a better place.

Within a few more minutes, armed with some cessation exercises, a number to the American Cancer Society, numbers to local hospitals with support groups, a number to Smoke Enders and Nicotine Anonymous - I was able to relinquish the good doctor from my vice-like grasp and move forward in my day.

I feel like such an ass. I mean, do ya know the shit I've kicked in my lifetime? You guys have an idea but you don't *know*. I've kicked habits. Crazy habits. But this shit. This shit is different.

This shit is fucked up.

I'm going out of my mind. It's all I can do but keep my fingers typing away and God knows what the hell is going to happen when I walk the fuck out of here and into the streets of New York where cigarettes are legal to buy on every street corner.

But my favorite response to my dilemma was my brother's quote today. "Puh-lease Partygirl, I don't want to hear it. It's really not that hard," he says. "I've quit smoking thousands of times!"

Now that, is *rich*.

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