Mary Quit Smoking

It was a beautiful day in early June, and my husband and I were headed to the Poconos. I usually smoke a lot in the car, but I didn't light up on this trip. I was too content just to sit and watch the miles roll by and smell the rich, green smells of the countryside.

Our destination was a sort of flea market/antiques mall, and we spent the better part of the day there, just browsing. Of course, there was no smoking inside. I could have chain-smoked a few before going in. I could have popped outside for a "quickie" at any time. But I didn't. Testing my limits, perhaps. By dinnertime, I still hadn't smoked.

This was turning into something like an experiment.

That night we went to a drive-in theater (yes, we still have them around here), and I still hadn't smoked. I was mildly uncomfortable by this time, a bit restless, but that was all. My dear husband was clueless, so I left it that way. I didn't want to let him down. I couldn't bear to disappoint him if this "experiment" failed. Besides, I was just fooling around. It wasn't like I was trying to quit smoking or anything.

I made it home that night, and into bed, without a cigarette. The following morning, discovering that I was still alive and hadn't spontaneously combusted during the night, I decided to see how far I could take this thing…

I had my coffee without a cigarette that morning. I skipped my usual mid-morning smoke, and my late-morning, pre-lunch cigarette. And my mid-afternoon, post-lunch, pre-dinner nicotine fix… by that evening I couldn't deny it any more. I was in the throes of all-out nicotine withdrawal. I was quitting cigarettes. My God!

I was going to need help.

The first thing I did was to tell my husband what I was doing. There were tears of joy in his eyes. (He was also relieved that I wasn't dying or having a nervous breakdown, as he'd begun to suspect.)

The next day I got on the Internet and started doing research. I was going to need knowledge and lots of support to beat this addiction. I found both on the forum. I studied every article, followed every link, read every thread. After a full day of lurking, I wrote my first post.

That was June 14, 2004, which put my quit date on the anniversary of my mother's death, exactly 5 years later. The realization struck me like a ton of bricks. How could this be? I didn't plan it this way. I wasn't even trying to quit!

Here I thought my actions were spontaneous. It seems my subconscious knew all along what it was doing.

So be it.

I was about to turn 40. I couldn't run half a block without wheezing. I'd watched my mother die a horrible, lingering death. I'd lost two grandparents and an aunt to emphysema. I could see the fear in my husband's eyes every time I lit up. But I didn't quit for my family.

The reason I finally quit was ME. Whether it truly was a trick I played on myself, an experiment with Fate, or a subconscious tribute to my mother – I have my own reasons for quitting, and they're all about me, me, me.

I want a longer, healthier life.

I want as much time on this earth as I can possibly get with my wonderful husband.

I want to maintain my active lifestyle well into retirement.

I want to dance, bike, kayak, ski, hike, swim, skate and run circles around people half my age.

I want my life back.

So here I am 6 months, 1 day, 18 hours and 35 minutes into my quit, and all that I want is within my grasp. I've come a long way. Sometimes I struggle, but mostly I'm positive in my outlook, proud of my accomplishment. I'm not smoking. I'm helping others not to smoke. I'm getting stronger and healthier every day.

I didn't just quit cigarettes. I changed my life.