Well, 3 weeks on the medicine and the dreams have not stopped coming. I am happy to report however that they have gotten a lot less violent and terrifying. Now they are more like “psychological thrillers” that wake me up in the dead of night and keep me awake while I try to figure out where the hell they came from!
Last night I dreamt of Jake and I’s wedding. Only, it took place in a church that no one in either of our families had ever heard of. It was one of the strangest dreams I can remember having…EVER. You would think that in a dream about a wedding you would actually see the wedding, but I didn’t. There were no rings. Jake’s dad decided that it was time for us to get married so we did it that next weekend, and Jake was mad because he didn’t want to do it without rings. (Perhaps this was the oddest thing about the dream, Jake NEVER does anything his dad wants him to.) Mike Sassanella came to the wedding and everyone starred at him until he finally got up and walked out…(that is a whole different story!). When I woke up I laid there and wondered where it came from. Could it have been the rerun of Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations where he attended a traditional wedding in Uzbekistan? Could it have been our discussing, or rather arguing, or wedding plans at supper? The world may never know.
There was another dream in which the wife of an acquaintance gave my ring to me because Jake was too chicken to do it. All the while this is going on, Jake is following someone around his brother’s house because he thinks the guy is casing the joint or something. The guy then comes outside and starts telling us a story about his mom. That’s about all the details I can remember from that dream…and it was bizarre, even more so than the others.
I don’t usually recall dreams, so I am positive that the Chantix is causing me to have and remember these dreams. There are a handful of dreams that I recall over my lifetime, and they are all pretty scary ones. Two specific examples are my reoccurring nightmares from childhood about the box of summer clothes on the top shelf of my closet turning into a roaring and ferocious lion and about our house starting on fire. The fire one affected me pretty bad because nearly every night for weeks at a time I would wake up crying. I would always wake up at the same time too…at the point where the filing cabinet blew up, (Our family business was the farm, and my mother took care of all of the bookkeeping and accounting. I was warned countless times by everyone in the family to leave all the stuff in the filing cabinet alone because it was very important. I had a knack for playing school and carrying off papers and things.).
When I was in high school and at the peak of my Creed/Scott Stapp infatuation, I read somewhere that he tried lucid dreaming because he was having a reoccurring nightmare that he wanted to stop. Well, I bought a couple of books, and put them in the garage sale box about a chapter later! I thought it was a bunch of hooey.
Hooey or not, I have considered researching the topic yet again, just so I could get some decent sleep again. I don’t know. At least the dreams have calmed down and they are not morbid and so disturbing as they were a week ago. I guess my body has finally gotten used to the medicine.
I am happy to report that I am cigarette free now for almost 2 weeks. Jake on the other hand admitted to me last night that he has bummed a few off of some of the guys he works with, and I had to bribe him with semi-illicit sexual acts last night so he would not buy another pack, (he still has 3 days of continued smoking before he’s done cold turkey). As far as I know he didn’t buy any…but he can be sneaky. For me the trick to not “relapsing” is to just avoid smokers and situations that make me want to smoke…except waking up in the morning and eating, I have to do those and I have yet to find something to replace wanting that cigarette.
Some people have given me grief about taking a prescription to quit, (most of those people are current smokers who are not trying to quit or unsuccessfully quitting). To those people I have to say that it’s just not the same for me as it is for them. I enjoy smoking. I like cigarettes and I like smoking them. I didn’t want to quit. I have tried unsuccessfully in the past and I have tried different methods (BTW: the “quitting ally” or the person who is supposed to be supportive of you and who is supposed to be there as a sort of “rock”…don’t pick a stupid bitch to be this person because they stress you out and cause you to smoke even more!). I have said for a long time that I would quit smoking if my dad would quit. Dad is trying, (he’s not doing very well with it), but I honored my word, and I am sort of bullying Jake into quitting too.
I just keep telling myself that I need to quit in plenty of time before the wedding because I don’t want to be rushing outside 10 minutes before I am to be walking down the aisle to puff down a cigarette. Knowing my luck I would probably catch the dress on fire…
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