Tomorrow will mark 3 years since I quit smoking.
It was a short time after my birth mom died of lung cancer. She was in her mid-50s. I decided that I didn't want to leave my kids early because of a conscious decision I made to continue smoking. There were other reasons, too. My family is a cesspool of cancer risk and other health problems, like osteoporosis. Smoking exacerbates many, if not all, those health problems. Every time I got sick, I'd wonder if it was because I was a smoker. I was also scheduled for a surgery I really needed and knew that smoking would mess with my mental state; I'd be a nervous wreck wondering, Where are my cigarettes? Where is my lighter? Where can I sneak away to go smoke? It would have also hindered my healing time.
I had quit for both my pregnancies but ended up going right back to it after they weaned. I knew I couldn't expose them to my problem. But why I went back to it each time, I don't know. In July of 2009, though, when I started planning for my "quit day", I was in a different mind-set than I'd been before. Something inside of me had clicked and I knew it was then or never.
I used help; the nicotine patch. It wasn't easy at all, in fact, it is in my top five worst experiences of my life. But I took it one day at a time and made it through. I've never made it to the 3 year mark before and I'm trying to figure out how to celebrate.
I'm not going to give you some BS line where I say, "If I can do it, so can you!" All I'll say is that when you're ready to quit, I mean really ready to set it down and not look back, you'll know it.
Peace, love, and easy breathing,