Missing...but not missing those smokes!!

[mama2froggies]

Hi all,

(it's a long one. I'm making up for lost time, or gained, as the case may be!)

I popped in for a short moment back at 300, but haven't really been around since. I'm sorry. I was mistakenly thinking I didn't have anything to offer anyone, cuz my quit was so easy. History for those who don't know me or forgot: My husband decided he was going to quit smoking. He saw our doctor, got Chantix and started his first week. I would have panic attacks every single moment I thought about quitting. I wasn't ready...or so I thought. 

It was about 6:30 on Monday night. The start of the work week. I hated my job, I never got to see my kids. My husband was Mr Mom and Mr Dad and Mr Cool. Mommy was just there. :o(  Dear Hubby said he was going to quit for sure. HIs Chantix Babysitting week was up on Wednesday. I thought, "Well, heck, it's not fair for me to keep smoking! I couldn't do it if he kept smoking!" ...or so I thought.

That was it. I was going to quit on Wednesday with my husband. I didn't prepare in any other way than to go to work on Tuesday and tell EVERYONE I was going to quit smoking the following day. I asked for help and support and apologized in advance for whatever adverse reaction would take place from being possessed by a demon that was losing control. It was 8:36pm. I didn't really feel the need for a cigarrette. I thought to myself, "Well, this is the last chance you'll have. May as well take advantage of it." and I lit up for the last time. I got about halfway through and looked at my husband and said, "You know, I don't even really want this." He said, "Me neither!" We laughed as we snuffed them out and went back inside to watch a movie = that's code for put a Netflix on and fall alseep on the couch until 3am, by the way.

That was September 21, 2011. Today (I thought it was tomorrow, but forgot it was a leap year, so technically today is day 365 and that's a normal year, so pppbbbbtttthhh on February 29th for not being consistent enough to allow me to remember you exist)...I digress...

That was September 21, 2011. Today is day 365. One year. 52 weeks (sort of. Stupid Leap Year). 12 months. 8,766 hours. A whole heck of a lot of seconds! 

I was walking out of the mall last night with my Berries. The Justin Beaver (yes, they're four and six, it's Beaver, not Beiber) store (aka Abercrombie & Fitch) poisoning the air with it's nasty, way over-powering, killing the brain cells of our youth cologne mixed fatally with someone....*ack* smoking! 

ElderBerry (the grown up six year old she is now that she's in first grade) says, "Mom that's really disgusting. Someone's smoking! That is SO bad for my lungs." BabyBerry, the dramatic one she is now that her sister isn't around to smother her 24/7, just started gagging and coughing and staggering around. "EW! THAT stinks! They should close their doors and why is someone smoking right by the front door is it Justin Beaver smoking that's really gross and I don't like that smell Ooh! Mommy can I throw a penny in the fountain cuz then I'll make a wish and I can't tell you because my wish won't come true cuz that's what Snow White said...."

Yeah, she talks a lot. Wonder where she gets it from? Must be her Dad.

The point was, it DID stink. It WAS overpowering and quite nauseating. Had someone told me 13 months ago that I would be repulsed by the sight, smell, thought of a cigarrette, I probably would have laughed it off and thought, "A-ha!! NEVER!" as I puffed away. Or in the even I wasn't smoking, got a smoke and headed outside - because we all know, just talking about smoking or quitting or Christmas shopping for that matter, was enough to make us "need" to smoke. 

Guess what? I'm still alive. I quit smoking one year, 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, etc, ago and I'm still alive. I didn't die. I gained a ton of weight. OK, not literally a ton, just under 20 lbs, but on a 5'2" frame, that's a lot. I started exercising, eating way better, and *POOF* I've dropped 15 of those since mid-June.

I had one craving for a smoke. The night we put our dog down. It was sudden. DoggieBerry was 9 1/2 years old. We'd had him since he was 6 weeks old. I had to stay home as ElderBerry and BabyBerry were alseep. Husband to him to the vet. We knew already. Oh, how I wished I had a smoke. Husband had taken his pack. (He lasted two weeks before he went back to the NicoDemon.) I tried to log on here to write a "Help" message, but the computer took so long to boot up, then I tried my phone and the site refused to cooperate with Android technology. I spent so long trying to ask someone for help, the deed was done and husband was back home....with his smokes...

I stood outside by him. I wanted to ask. I REALLY wanted to ask. Oh, I have never wanted to ask someone for something more than I wanted to ask him for a smoke at that moment. I thought about my quit. I was almost at 6 mos. I hadn't even thought about cheating before then. I was doing so well. I didn't want to let him down. Or my kids. Or my friends. The addict in me said I could lie. Not tell anyone. I knew I could. It wasn't really cheating. Just one smoke didn't mean I really had to start my count all over again. 

Then I got mad. Not at myself at first. I got mad at whoever made the rule that one puff cancelled out however long it had been without a puff. Who the heck were they to make the rules. They never had to put their DoggieBerry down! They didn't know me. I would keep my quit - right after this smoke. I NEEDED it! I just lost my dog! 

Wow. Junkie much? I was an addict. I am an addict. That entire inner monologue, the willingness to lie, cheat, essentially steal, told me I'm an addict. I'm a recovering addict, but an addict nonetheless. I don't know how long I'll have to say I'm an addict. I thought I was home free at 6 mos, because it was so easy...up until that point. I never did ask my husband for a cigarrette. I'd like to think I just worked through my craving, but in actuality, I was too scared to ask for a smoke, because that would mean admitting I was in a weak moment. 

Whatever the reason, I stayed quit. The other 364 days were Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy, as the Berries always tell me. Smooth sailing. But, BUT just because 364 of the last 365 were so easy, look how easily I could have ruined it. It just takes one second. One puff. 

I don't know what I'll encounter in the remaining decades of my life. I hope my husband can quit. I hope my kids never start. What I do know is I control my life. I will stay quit. No more smoke breaks. No more hiding. No more stink. My teeth are whiter. My nails are whiter. My clothes don't stink. You know, all the cliches we read about when we still smoke, when we first quit, that we laugh at, roll our eyes at, think are the dumbest reasons ever for quitting smoking. Yeah, not really. I like smelling good. I never realized how poorly I smelled. I like having so much more time to myself. I can't believe I would start the car, turn the AC on for my kids, then stand outside in a parking lot when it's 110 degrees so I could smoke. Whoa. That's just stupid. I'm not stupid anymore. I'm not walking around in a cloud, literal or figurative. 

I am smoke free. I am free.