I don't come on very much anymore. It has been 27 months since I stopped this horrid habit. I bumped this - one of my old posts - the other day, but it was cut off, so I will bump it again today. Perhaps it will assist someone in their journey. Smoking is something I once did. I did it for way too many years. I did it in excess. I smoked almost every chance I got. Cigarettes were my closest companion (notice that I did not use the word friend or ally). I LOVED smoking. I smoked when I was happy and relaxed. I smoked when I was angry and frustrated. I smoked when I was nervous or scared. I smoked when I was sad or grieving. I smoked at every transition. I am an impatient person so I smoked every time there was a moment when I had to wait. When my dear husband gets angry, he can be pretty awful and rejecting � so I smoked to handle the hurt and abandonment and loneliness I felt at those times. I smoked to reward myself for all the stress I handled by being the strong responsible daughter, friend, sister, wife, �take care of everyone else� person that I am. I was a closet smoker. Few people knew I smoked. I believed that if no one knew, then I was not really a smoker. Also, if no one knew, then no one would ever say �I told you so� if I got some smoke related disease. But for most of my 30 years of smoking, I really believed that I would never have a health problem. I made mental lists of people who were older than me or healthier than me who smoked. (This delusion went out the window when my dear smoking pal Ann died two months after being diagnosed with lung cancer � see the story in Rain�s post �What was your wake-up moment?�) I constantly reminded myself that the longevity genes in my family are extraordinary. I ignored the fact that none of my long-living relatives were smokers. Although I mostly denied that I was a smoker, I did try to quit a number of times. I would set time-lines � when I am 30, when I am 40, when I am 50, on New Years, on my birthday etc. etc. etc. Often I would try it on vacation, but it would start ruining the vacation, so I would resume smoking. The main problem was that every time I tried to quit, my husband and I would get in such conflict that the price seemed too high. I am usually the emotionally stable one in our relationship. When I got needy and crabby and vulnerable and out of control, he would hate me and I would either feel so devastated by his rejection or so angry by his lack of understanding, that I would start again. The reinforcement for starting again would be immediate. My quits would also be full of sneaking. A drag here, a full one there, a butt sometimes. I never realized the importance of throwing out every cigarette, every butt, cleaning out every ashtray, getting rid of the garbage. The memories, the vision, of me looking through the garbage for an old butt to smoke are not pleasant. Even my most successful quit was full of illusions. The main one was that I could have just one. That I deserved a cig after doing so well. That I could smoke one in a time of particular fun and relaxation or in a time of particular stress�and that would not mean a return to smoking. Wrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrong. I had one and was almost immediately back to a pack a day. Quitting was scarier to me than smoking. Going through withdrawal felt like going insane. I have always been a strong person. I have a masters in counseling. I am supposed to understand and handle my emotions. Turning into a blubbering idiot who could do nothing but sob was terrifying. It in no-way fit my self-image. Returning to smoking was a return to sanity and equilibrium. Of course, smoking didn�t fit into my self-image either. I am sort of an earth mother type. I garden. I raise chickens. I sell organic eggs. I live on a farm. I put up a lot of our own food. I ride a tractor. I freeze beans and make salsa, pesto, gazpacho, etc. etc. etc. Doing something as toxic as smoking didn�t really fit into the picture, but since hardly anyone knew, I could keep up the illusion. Most people think of smoking as a social thing, but really smoking isolated me from family and friends. Though I have a very close family and many wonderful friends, I look back and see all of the activities I missed because I was worried about how I was going to sneak a cigarette. �Oh you all go ahead, I will meet up with you later�..� Smoking controlled me and my thoughts in so many ways. Smoking was constantly on my mind. How could I attend that and still smoke? When could I smoke? When would I run out? When could I get some more? Where would I hide them in my purse? Where were my breath mints? Damn � I have cigarettes but forgot my lighter!! How long did I need to air out the car if I snuck one there? Was the cover on the outside ashtray so no one could see the tell-tale butts? Could my students smell it if I had one right before class? Could my sister hear me smoking when I was on the phone? Did I have enough patches to make it through traveling and airport withdrawal? Where could I empty all the butts so that no one could see them or smell them if they added something to our garbage can? ACK � I forgot my cigarettes. Oops � do I have enough money for cigarettes? So how did I get from being a smoker to being an ex smoker? How did the impossible become possible? It took a very long list of tools and tricks to get here. Blind luck? Nope. Positive attitude? Not really. I whined and cried and sobbed and complained that it was and is the hardest thing I have ever done. Commitment? Yes. I made up my mind once and for all. Fear? Yes, after my close friend died so suddenly, I was terrified. Support of friends? Not really. Since my smoking was in secret, so was my quit. Support of my husband? DEFINITELY NOT! He couldn�t stand me while I was quitting and even though he really wanted me to stop, he found it nearly impossible to like me, much less support me. Education? Yes. Most important for me, was what I learned about addiction and withdrawal and recidivism. Also learning what to expect and that what I was feeling was �normal�. Rewards? They helped � my massages, my pedicure, my 3 month river rafting and road trip. They helped me feel pride and to notice how far I had come. Escape? Yep. Slept as much as possible week one. Warm fuzzies? Yes. Thankfully my golden retriever still loved me when I was in withdrawal. She became my best companion when I was sobbing and sleeping. The patch? I believe that NRT was helpful for me in a more gradual reduction of nicotine. However, I am not sure if that was physical or psychological. I cannot imagine that cold turkey hell week could have been ANY worse than what I experienced!!!! The support of SCC folks? Other than the belief changes I had to adopt, this was the most important part of my quit. I stayed on line almost non-stop through the first week. Whenever my craves seemed impossible to ignore and whenever I thought I was going crazy, I came to the SCC site and read and posted and read and posted some more. I was on line as much as possible that first month. And when I could not be (because I was dealing with family crises that threatened my quit) I pretended to be on line; I posted in my head or on paper and imagined the responses. The support, the love, the sharing, the info, the wisdom, the perspective, the camaraderie, the humor � all were invaluable to me. Most importantly were the realizations for me � the truths and belief changes that I needed to internalize, to incorporate, to believe, to adopt, and to act on. These included: 1) I am an addict. I am a junkie. How hard was this for me to say about myself?? Awful! But this was a crucial step for me. I have no problem with alcohol or with other addictions, so this was a long time coming. But I finally came to realize the strength of my addiction. I can NEVER have another cigarette. Not even a puff. I will never be free of this addiction. I will succeed, but I can never allow myself the illusion that I can have just one. I am a puff away from being a smoker again. 2) I am smarter than the nico-demon. Prepare!!! I made a list of junkie talk and got my answers ready while I still had my wits about me. 3) There will never be a �good� time to quit. There will always be a life stress to seduce me back into smoking. If there is not an external stress, I will create an internal one. NOW is the only time to quit. NOW. NOW. NOW. 4) This is my OWN quit. If I depend on someone else�s support to quit, I am setting myself up for failure. 5) Withdrawal is a temporary loss of sanity. Pay no attention to anything I think or feel during this period. Just do whatever it takes to get through it. Analyze my thoughts, feelings or my ideas about life changes LATER when sanity returns. 6) Stock up on Kleenex. 7) Take each step, each five minutes, each crave, each hour, each day at a time. Climbing the mountain is much more doable if you keep your eyes on the ground rather than looking at the summit. 8) The only way to becoming a non-smoker is to not smoke. DUH. 10) No one has ever died from withdrawal. 11) Blind faith. I had to believe those who had gone before me. That I would not always feel this way. That some day it would get better. That the depression and loss of joy would not be permanent. 12) Helping others. The more I reached out to others and put into words what I was doing and feeling and thinking, the stronger my own commitment was. 13) This is my life I am fighting for. I want to live. [B]My Milage:[/B] [B]My Quit Date: [/B]4/15/2005 [B]Smoke-Free Days:[/B] 822 [B]Cigarettes Not Smoked:[/B] 20,550 [B]Amount Saved:[/B] $2,877.00 [B]Life Gained:[/B] [B]Days:[/B] 117 [B]Hrs:[/B] 11 [B]Mins:[/B] 51 [B]Seconds:[/B] 25