Ten and a half months ago I put out my last cigarette in my friends garage in the middle of summer. I was sitting on a metal chair and it was 8pm. I hadn't had a cigarette all day - I had ran out the day before and didn't intend on buying more. The friend of mine gave me my last one. It was like I had just hit 24 hours of my quit and had to reset to 0. It was a horrible cigarette and not a good thought passed through my head the entire 4 minutes I puffed on it. I didn't finish it before putting it out. I was done with nicotine with no intentions of looking back.
I'll admit it wasn't easy, especially those first few days. After a month or so I struggled more with "smokemares" or nightmares of me ruining my quit that were very realistic. I changed everything. My surroundings, the town I lived in, my friends, the places I once hung out at to smoke, and also my outlook on life and otherwise my overall health. I don't regret it. Some friends I was once close with are very distant now... but I had to choose between my health and their bad decisions. I know how smokers are, not wanting to be trapped in their boat alone, not wanting to be the only one out of the group who (thinks they) just can't beat the demon. They wanted to quit but they didn't want to hear that their nicotine is not what they think. Because I associated such friends with what they would call "social smoking", a trigger that is only, again, by association with where and when I usually smoked, I had to choose to keep my distance. Today I think it would not be a hard trigger for me to deal with but I don't think I could stand the smell any longer or the utter boredom caused by sitting outside in the blistering heat smoking on a hard and uncomfortable metal chair doing nothing else but wishing I were inside in the air conditioning or at the very least engaged in an interesting conversation that didn't involve who was almost out of cigarettes and how many quarters had been saved up for the next pack or who could lend a few until payday and gross I don't smoke menthols until I have no other choice and my addiction is calling my name. Isn't social smoking fun?
I'm moving to Florida this summer with my boyfriend, my dog and my two rats. I can take my dog for walks without having to catch my breath and boy does he love to sit in the sun. I get to spoil him (and sometimes myself) with all that money I'm not spending on cigarettes. Now if I could go back and put that all into the bank instead of throwing it away.
I wouldn't go back and trade my freedom for anything.
