On Quitting Smoking

I quit smoking on December 26, 2007. This time, for good. I have been smoking on-and-off since I was a teenager. Recently, I had quit in December of 2005, and hadn't smoked until April of this year (yes, a 16-month stint without a single drag; such long stints without smoking were not uncommon for me).

What prompted this recent cessation? And why do I say "for good," this time? Well, I think a lot of it has to do with my phase in life. I am squarely in the "mid-life crisis" phase, approaching my 40th birthday. (And I haven't yet succumb to a red convertible.) Mid-life is often a time when people take stock of many things, including personal health. I fully realize, as Bill Clinton frequently says, that I likely have "more yesterdays than tomorrows." I have to take full responsibility for those behaviors that I CAN control that will impact my health. The science is not in question; smoking greatly increases the risks of serious and even fatal health complications.

Now, do I miss smoking? Unquestionably, I do. I don't believe I was "physically" addicted to nicotine, as I quit cold-turkey (as I always have, with no 'cessation devices'), and I suffered none of the common physical withdrawal symptoms. But I miss the sensation of striking a match and taking that first drag (especially after a meal). I miss the oral occupation. I miss the time of "reflection" I often had when standing outside with a cigarette (as of course, these days, smokers are relegated to the outdoors). I miss the social camaraderie with other smokers in the "smoker's hut" at work. I miss how a cigarette can be a comforting experience, a brief "break from it all," when it seems too much to cope with.

However, there are many things I don't miss. 5$ per pack (and lining the pockets of the disingenuous Corporate machines that manufacture cigarettes). The moral implications of spending money on an ill-conceived product, while millions starve. The way I reek of smoke and probably offend people. The discoloration of my hands and teeth. The time out of my day it takes to smoke (while certainly there are "better things" I could be doing). Even though I always responsibly disposed of the butts, knowing that I'm being "greener" by not contributing to the landfill. Not even to mention, the ill-effects the smoking has on my health.

So, I will need other coping mechanisms to fill the void. How else might I cope? Take a walk. Say a prayer. Meditate. Do yoga. And then gloat in my victory over cigarettes.

I quit smoking. But I believe I will always be "a smoker," even though I don't smoke anymore. I think humans derived great satisfaction from smoking tobacco, and enjoyed it for eons, before understanding all its negative aspects (and before many of its negative aspects emerged).