When prepping myself for the eventual quitting, I talked about it to my friends. I would casually mention that I was "thinking" about quitting smoking. Pretty much everyone was shocked. Most were happy, and a few were skeptical. I LOVED smoking--fricking loved it. And I never once, not even for a moment, entertained the thought of quitting. I pretty much sneered at it whenever possible. I couldn't contemplate quitting until I was ready for it. And until about a year ago, I wasn't. I am not certain what changed last year, but I think it was just the onset of turning 30. It means a change in life, in who I am, and somehow, in my head, that translated to quitting smoking. 

No one ever really understood that I wasn't telling people because I wanted them to know, I was telling people because I wanted to know. I wanted to hear how it sounded out loud. I needed to turn it over and over in my mind before I could take any steps and part of the process was testing it out on my friends. I needed to hear what it would sound like to be a non-smoker. I know that sounds crazy, but it was part of the process. To my thinking, it was like a divorce; I was cutting something very important out of my life and I needed to figure out who I would be when it was all said and done. And in order to do that, I had to talk it out, just to hear how it was going to sound. 

In addition to talking about it, I also thought about it....all the time. I began thinking about it each and every time I lit up a smoke. Why was I doing it then? Did I really need a cigarette or was it just habit? Could I wait and not smoke at that moment? What could I be doing instead? That last one was the one I needed to focus on the most. When I first began thinking about quitting I was stymied by what people do with their time. I know what smokers do; they smoke. Ten minutes early for an appointment (not that that ever happens to me)? Time for a smoke. Break at work? Time for a smoke. Somebody else is running late? Time for a smoke. Meeting ended early? Time for a smoke. Conversation in a lull? Time for a smoke. 

That's how you fill time as a smoker. You smoke. But what do non-smokers do in those situations? I couldn't begin to fathom it. I was a teenager when I started smoking (I smoked for 14 years) so most of those situations didn't happen until I was already an established smoker. That was all I knew. 

So I kept on thinking, talking it out, and planning; because I knew if I was going to succeed, then I would need to really be ready for this all by myself. No one could help me with this, I would have to quit on my own. 

"Action is the foundational key to all success." -Pablo Picasso

Then, suddenly, it was time. The day I had been prepping for was almost here. I remember it clearly, it was Friday, March 13, 2009. It was my last day of work before my mini-break (3 days off in a row) and the day before my 30th party and the 2nd to last day of my being a smoker. I was at work and was cleaning the shelves at the end of the day (the last 15 minutes of my day are set aside just for this) when I turned down the self-help aisle. It was pretty neat and orderly, so I rushed through it a bit. The last section, just before I turned into another aisle, there was one book out of place. It was pulled out of its spot and laid down in the open space on the shelf. That indicates that someone was looking at it. I picked it up to reshelve it when I happened to glance at the title: The Easy Way to Stop Smoking (Allen Carr). 

Well, what the hell? It seemed like a sign to me. I scanned the back cover and read that it promised no weight gain, no withdrawl symptoms, just easy, cold-turkey stopping. Okay. Sounded good to me. So I took it home with me. I won't go into detail about this book except to say that it was worth every page. (And every penny if I had bought it instead of getting it from the library). It delivered on every little thing that it promised. 

Then, in the blink of an eye, the weekend was done. I was officially 30 years old and moments away from becoming a non-smoker. (By the way, I prefer "non" to "ex" smoker. "Ex" is generally viewed in a negative light: ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, ex-employee, etc. Quitting smoking is so positive that it doesn't deserve an "ex". Plus, true "ex"-smokers are the bitter zealots that everyone hates. That's definitely not me.) I read this book until the last cigarette (per the book's instructions) and as I was taking the final few drags, I was truly thinking about it in a new light. I didn't hate smoking, there wasn't this blinding "a-ha!" moment. I was just finally able to see myself without a cigarette. I separated the person from the action and somehow, that made it easier. The blinders were finally off. So I stubbed out that last smoke and that was it-I was done. I finished the last page of the book and closed the cover. Then I stood up, went inside, and went to bed. (I had made the decision to quit at night because it seemed easier to get through the first 8 hours if I was asleep, rather than through a work day or something). That was my moment. It was conscious choice, an action: I put that cigarette out knowing it was the last one. 

"Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts." -Arnold Bennett

Now, today, this very day, I am proudly celebrating 6 months of being a non-smoker. (Surely, you must have wondered at the point of this...?) It amazes me that six months have passed. It literally seems like moments ago that I put out that last smoke. Honestly, it was so much easier than I ever anticipated that it actually makes me feel silly for not quitting sooner. But I try not to dwell on that and instead focus on the positive. I feel healthier. My skin is clearer. My lungs breathe more easily. I don't run out of breath as easily. I can blow up a balloon without passing out. I have more money. I don't stink of smoke. I have more time on my hands. And a whole host of medical things that I don't bother to look up. Because, just as I didn't smoke to make myself more unhealthy, neither did I quit to make myself healthier. That is another strong point that non-smokers have never understood. People know that smoking can and will kill them. Yet, it doesn't deter them. Smokers aren't stupid. They know it is bad for you, but it just doesn't matter when you are underneath the power of the addiction. For me, quitting was about being me-about being who I am and not being, simply, a smoker. It was about cutting free from the addiction and not letting it have power over me, not anymore. 

Still, for all that it feels good and that it was easy, it isn't all gravy. Not smoking is hard work. I still find myself in situations where I would have smoked in the past and my whole body longs for it. It isn't really a craving, or a need, for cigarettes or nicotine. It is just....a longing. The closest way I can explain it is that it is like missing a friend or a loved one. Someone who used to be there every day and then, one day, just isn't there anymore. With time, you move on, but there will be moments, times, where you will unaccountably miss them. I still feel that and I expect that I will for some time to come. I don't expect (though I do hope) that someday it will stop entirely, it is enough to know that it lessens with each passing day. 

"Always remember that the future comes one day at a time." -Dean Acheson

With regard to each day that has passed, I have learned that speaking in absolutes is not a very wise idea. I learned that pretty quick, about two seconds in to quitting. Thinking "that is the last cigarette that I will EVER have" is a terrifying thought. It shouldn't be, I know, but that doesn't change the fact that it is. Ever and never are a very long time, and it is hard as hell to think that way. I totally get why AA uses the motto "One Day at a Time". That's all you can really do. I can't tell you what will be happening tomorrow or next week, month, or year; all I can say is that for right now, I am a non-smoker. Right now, I do not smoke. Right now, I am six months smoke free. Right now, I am a successful non-smoker. Right now, I am happy. 

This is how far I've come: I have made it six months without substitution or cheating. (Really! Not even one puff!) I am inordinately proud of myself for making it this far, and I have high hopes for my chances of success.  I decided to write this as a marker, as my own personal sobriety chip, so that when it does become hard, I will have this to read and remember how far I've come. I decided to write this so that when it continues to be easy, I'll be able to reminisce and be proud of how far I've come. I decided to write this so that if anyone reading wants to quit or knows someone who is thinking about quitting, they can maybe read my words and find a spark of inspiration in how far I've come. I decided to write this because it is important to always remember how far I've come. Even if I should someday fail and become a smoker again, this, of itself, is a success. I've come this far. 

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” -Winston Churchill