Light and Dangerous

I went out the other night with some colleagues. It started, as these things usually do, with an innocuous glass or two of wine. But the chatter and laughter grew louder and the server kept coming by, and time just sort of ran away, taking some of our brains cells with it. Only a couple in our immediate group smoked; one who is as addicted as I was, and the other, one of those social smokers that can 'take it or leave it' (grrrr, but that's another discussion).

So there we were, exuburant, giddy and giggly in one of those groups where you just seem to connect in a way you can't quite during the regular hours. This is not a phenomenon only for women. I have seen it with men as well, and I have know the situation to be equally as dangerous.

Why is it dangerous? Were these women forcing sickorettes down my throat, telling me how wonderful it was to smoke and how happy they were to be addicted? No. In fact one of them was telling me how much she hated it, hated the way she smelled, the way she felt, how much it cost. In fact, that very night, she set her quit date.

The night progressed. We moved to an upscale New York type of bar, then to a fun and more active one that had an extraordinary band and room to dance. This latest venue was filled with smoke, it actually hurt my eyes and stung my throat. It was so thick and pungent I actually thought I might as well smoke, as this felt much the same. And then I noticed it. My colleague's sickorette burning beseechingly in the ashtray.

She'd taken great care to blow away from my face, not to smoke as much, and to keep the ashtray far from reach. She must've slipped though, because there it was, just sitting there. 'One puff.' a tiny voice said within, ' You really hate smoking now, so what's the big deal? Look around, there are still so many smoking, just have one puff, you can go back to quitting tomorrow'. It wasn't even a craving, not even an urge. But only a thought.

Even though it was a tee-totalling night for me, the hazy thought of 'just one' wouldn't hurt seemed to make sense. But then I stopped. I just couldn't, I had worked too danged hard. There are those people like colleague number two, that can smoke now and then, once in a blue moon - but I am not one of them. I am a full-fledged addict.

And even if I could take the one puff and not smoke ever again, did I truly want to risk it? Did I really want to go through the horrendous nicotine withdrawal I experienced those first few days all over again? Nah. Curiousity is not worth it, not in this case.

I still felt grimey from the smoke that had been in the bar, and throughout the next day kept coughing in a way I hadn't for ages. How did I ever go out and smoke at the same time was beyond me. The great thing is though, I still danced, still bonded and did all of those things one does on a fun girls night out except one...I didn't smoke.

One of my students told me the other day that she has been quit for three months. She says she will never smoke again, but now and then, there is the odd urge, the odd craving. She says it sneaks up on her and knocks her senseless. I told her of something I'd learned from the about.com site,

' Wouldn't you rather be a non-smoker who thinks about smoking once in awhile than a smoker who constantly worries about quitting?'

Her face brightened, 'That makes total sense!' she replied, 'I love that saying.' It puts a bit of perspective in it, to be sure.

The thing is, it's not always the knock-'em down cravings that are dangerous, but the subtle 'just hanging with buds on a Friday night so one won't hurt' whispers. I have seen many an ex-smoker fall for this.

Be on guard...not in a tense and uptight way, you do need to have fun, but dismiss the whispers as firmly as you did the screams...it's coming from the same place and will lead you down the same path.