Anatomy of a Fuck Up

My husband and I have been bitching and moaning at each other for over a week..dunno why. Came to a head last night, and it lasted into the wee hours. At 3 am I found a leftover pack in the garage. What can I say? I had about 4-5 puffs off a smoke and ended up tossing it in the street. I practically ran into the house and went to bed. I woke up at about 7 am, very sad and confused, unsure of how to deal with my emotions without my crutch. Remembered the pack and boom..a few more drags later......Anyway, the point is I screwed up and smoked. I haven`t smoked since this morning...been 6.5 hrs. M and I got things sorted out, so I no longer feel that horrible sadness, or like I`m about to claw my way out of my own skin. After smoking that second cig, I walked down to the store to talk to M. I couldn't go one more minute without getting things straightened out with him. When I got back to the house, I went into the garage and walked over to the old dresser where I kept that "just in case" pack. There was about 5 or 6 smokes left in it. I held it in my hand and looked at it for a long time...seemed like an eternity. Why was I letting these frickin' things have so much power over me?? I didn't feel better after smoking....in fact I felt a lot worse. Finally, I took a deep breath and slowly crushed that pack in my hand. I squished that little cardboard pack until the cigarettes were nothing but powder. Then I went to the garbage cans in the alley, lifted a smelly bag out of one and tossed the mangled pack in. I replaced the garbage bag I had lifted out, snapped the lid back on and went into the house.