On this eve of a New Year, a New Decade, and a Full Moon I am filled with gratitude – for love, for family, for friends, and for being here to celebrate 6 months of a cigarette-free life.
I was addicted to cigarettes for 33 years. Never once did I go a day without cigarettes…even if I had the flu or it was 10 degrees out or I was dating someone who hated them. Nothing could stop me from smoking. It was usually the first thing I did each morning and often the last thing I did at night. It was a hard core addiction and it sat on top of me like a ten-ton weight. In fact, up until I quit, I was pretty much convinced I was incapable of doing so.
I wish I could say I quit for health reasons but, truthfully, I quit because no one else in my life smoked anymore and I was ashamed of it. Ashamed of always being the one to have to sneak off for a cigarette. Ashamed of how I smelled after smoking. Ashamed of watching my teeth turn more and more yellow as the years passed. Ashamed that everyone else I knew who’d ever smoked had successfully quit in their 20s or 30s. Ashamed that I based social plans and travel and all sorts of other logistics on whether I’d be able to smoke. Ashamed that I was a complete and total slave to it.
Given how deep my addiction ran, I carefully and deliberately set a plan in motion. I told my family, friends, and co-workers that I was quitting. I went to see my doctor and was prescribed Chantix (which I eventually had to stop taking because of bad side-effects). I set a non-negotiable quit date for myself and threw out all remaining cigarettes, ashtrays, matches, lighters, etc. when the day arrived. I found an on-line support group before my quit date and educated myself about nicotine addiction. In short, I made my quit the single most important focus in my life.
The first week or two were like something from the Twilight Zone. I’m not even sure how to describe it except that it was surreal and horrible. I cried, I walked 8 miles a day, I called friends and family, and I lived on the cessation support site 24/7. Those two weeks felt like a nightmare – one that seemed to last forever. But eventually the nightmare ended and I felt a slight but tangible return to life. The next month or two was a series of intense ups and downs. I often felt lonely and abandoned and without solid ground beneath my feet. Daily living felt strange and unfamiliar. I missed cigarettes like I would a best friend. I truly mourned them and pined for them. Some days I thought I was having a nervous breakdown.
So I exercised like a demon, stayed close to my support group, and continued to make the quit my priority. Now, at 6 months, I can hardly believe I’ve made it this far. I certainly can’t say I never miss cigarettes because I do. Several times a day still. But it passes. And I am happily getting to know this new body of mine. A body that takes full, deep breaths. A body with no disconcerting flutters in the chest. A body that no longer feels beaten up and run down.
Thank you so much to all of you who have given me such support and encouragement and have celebrated my milestones with me. I am blessed beyond measure by the amazing people in my life.
