QuitForecast / The manual / Today and the forecast

Today and the forecast

Today is the clock and the road: how long you have been clean, what your body is doing right now, and what is coming next.

The counter

Your clean time, counting up from your quit moment. Its format is yours to choose in Settings, and the same clock drives the widgets and the Watch.

The clock counts from the exact minute you set, not from midnight. A 9 PM quit shows its first full day at 9 PM the next evening. Backdating is allowed at setup: if you quit last Tuesday, tell it so, and the counter, the timeline and the milestones all start from there.

The format setting offers days-hours-minutes, weeks, or a plain day count. Whatever you pick, every surface repeats it: the widget, the Lock Screen, the Watch glance. One clock, one format, everywhere.

A slip restarts this clock and nothing else. Your history, your best run, your savings and your badges all survive. The counter alone goes back to zero: it measures the current run, and the app never pretends otherwise.

The recovery timeline

Every stage of your body's recovery, cited to published research. Each stage carries three beats: what is healing, what you might feel, and what helps now. The stage you are standing on is marked, and stages you have passed on an earlier run say so.

Each substance has its own road. Quitting smoking reads a different timeline from quitting alcohol or caffeine, with stages from the first minutes to the years after. Open any stage and the three beats appear, with the studies named right under them; every claim traces to the app's own research library.

The row you are standing on stays pinned open with a you-are-here marker and a live percentage. Rows you have passed compress to a check and a title so the road behind quiets down; tap one to reopen it.

If an earlier attempt reached further than this one, those rows say your last run reached here. The app treats that as history worth keeping, not as a debt: new ground is marked the first time you pass your old high-water mark.

The craving histogram

Your logged cravings by hour of day, drawn beside the counter once four are logged. It shows your own hours, never a guess about you.

Every bar is a count of your own logged cravings in that hour of the day, over the last thirty days. Nothing is smoothed or projected: an empty hour is an empty bar.

Below four logged cravings the chart says nothing at all, because two dots are not a pattern. Once your log has earned it, the two hours your cravings cluster in are drawn in amber. Those same two hours drive the craving window on the Log tab.

The morning note

Some mornings, one line at the top of Today saying something your log has newly learned. It speaks only when the answer changed, never repeats a card already on screen, and hedges with "so far", because your log is the experiment.

The note has a small pool of readings it can give. A shift in your heaviest cue, a change in your craving rhythm, a finished month of evening answers. Each is spoken once, the morning it becomes true, and then retired until the answer changes again. A note you saw yesterday will not be today's note.

It never duplicates a card already on the screen: if the patterns card is showing the same fact, the note yields. And it speaks in measured language on purpose, because a morning line that overclaims would be the app breaking its own first rule.

The evening review

One question, once a day if you turn its reminder on: any cravings today? A "no" is the first true zero the forecast can count; a skipped evening is a blank, never a broken anything.

Without it, a day with no logged cravings is ambiguous: quiet, or just unlogged? Your answer settles it. "No cravings" writes a true zero the patterns can trust; "I had some" invites you to log them; "Not tonight" writes nothing at all.

There is no streak attached to answering and nothing breaks when you skip. The review exists to make your quiet days count as evidence, not to become another habit you can fail at.

Celebrations

Each milestone celebrates once, when your body actually reaches it. A slip moves the clock and keeps the history: your longest run and your attempt count stay yours.

A celebration fires at the milestone's real moment on your own clock. The twenty-minute mark comes twenty minutes after your quit minute, and the first day a day after. It is never batched to the next app open and never repeated.

Each one shows what your body just finished doing and quotes your own why back to you. After a slip, milestones you had already banked wait to be earned again on the new clock. The celebration says so plainly rather than pretending the road reset itself.

The SOS button

Always in the corner. It opens the craving toolkit, and it is the one control that never moves.

It floats above every tab in the same corner, because the moment it exists for is not a moment for hunting. One tap opens the toolkit full screen with the wave clock already running.

The same door exists outside the app: a Control Center button, the Lock Screen accessory, Siri, and the Watch all reach the same toolkit.