My brain is trying to kill me

In the last two weeks my brain has been giving me ample evidence that it is trying to kill me. Here are two little examples.
I am an ex smoker. I smoked since I was fourteen until a few years ago. I quit intermittently, for years at a time just to start smoking again. Stupid, right. The last time I quit it was really hard but eventually I did it. I used nicotine patches, stopped drinking soda (because diet coke and cigarretts go hand in hand), no alcohol and I avoided all the places where I used to smoke (like my car parked outside of my house).  
It was hard but I did it. I missed it for several weeks and maybe even maybe months but it passed. Whenever I walk by someone smoking on the sidewalk the smell triggers cravings. That I can understand. Here is what I don’t. Two weeks ago I was in Titusville where my new job is and I was walking along the fishing pier taking photos. No one was smoking . All of a sudden someone hooked a fish and the fish started running making the clicker of the reel click. Like a hammer hitting my brain, I had the worst cigarette craving I have ever had. I used to go fishing frequently on a party boat in Miami Beach and I would easily smoke a pack of cigarettes in the 6 hour trip. One sound is all it took for the cravings to come rushing back full strength. Apparently I am not ready to go fishing again just yet.
The second example happened yesterday. I was working in a small hospital in a little town in Virginia with very limited culinary options. You had Wendys, McDonalds, Greasy Pizza or Subway. I am fat, have a bad lipid profile and I am very aware that I am pretty close to a diabetes diagnosis. I know I should eat healthy, avoid carbs and excercise, so I was complaining to the nurses about the lack of healthy options. After Infinished my rant, I got my fat rear end on my high horse and told them that I was going to drive 40 minutes to the next town (a college town with many more restaurants available) in search of some healthy choices. I am still trying to figure out how that intention turned into a really big plate of chicken pad tai (mostly pasta) and a delicious strawberry milkshake. My freaking pleasure centers are really trying to do me in.