Give Me the Strength!   

When all is said and done, and you are finally in control of your emotions, your relationships, and your food choices, the time is right to kick it.  I mean, kick the habit once and for all.  Easier said than done, I know, because we associate all of our habitual behaviors with other behaviors. It's almost impossible to stop doing one thing without having to give up a host of others. Thinking about how our poor choices are so interwoven, I was reminded of the time when I first learned just how difficult it could be to break a bad habit. Prior to this, I had never really tried to change a problematic behavior completely; I was usually satisfied to lay off of it for a few days or weeks, proving that I could do it if I really wanted. 

Thirty years ago (wow, how time flies!), I was a cigarette smoker. I loved smoking cigarettes. I was good at it, a natural, if I do say so myself!  But, alas, it was the first of many addictions that I would be forced to deal with as time went on.  Of course, many people smoked back then, and it was far more acceptable than it is today when we frown and shake our heads at the sight of professionally dressed men and woman huddled outside the office in the rain, puffing away for dear life.  Nevertheless, one particular day it occurred to me that I needed to quit, sooner rather than later. I was teaching aerobics at an Elaine Powers Figure Salon, on my way to a healthier me; it really didn't seem right that I would end a class and light up in the back room with the other instructors.

 Anyway, one particular day I was determined to put an end to my nicotine addiction. I figured I had smoked for about eight to ten years, and it was time to put on my grownup pants and just kick it! Not wanting to make a rash decision, I waited for the "right" day and time, and on New Year's Eve, just after midnight, I quit. Done.  Easy, except it was kind of silly wasn't it, to stop at midnight when we had just started the party, and I had a half pack of cigarettes? Of course I would stop, but the morning seemed much more reasonable. I would be done with the pack, and I would wake to a brand new year! Well, if you have read my other e-zines, you will recognize the fatal lies in this type of thinking.  Of course there are no tomorrows, not really.  

I did stop for a few hours that night, but since we were away for a weekend, I said I would start when we returned home; it would be easier that way. We got home on a Sunday, which everyone knows is not the right day to launch a new commitment, so I decided I would quit on Monday! Of course I would.  On Monday, I still had part of the pack and since it would be silly to waste them, I would finish them off, and then I would quit.  This kind of rationalization went on and on; ultimately, I simply stopped planning to quit.  Then, months later and out of the blue, the thought popped into my head that this was the day, and as hard as it was going to be, I decided I was going to grin and bear it.   

It turned out that there were tons of triggers that made me yearn for a cigarette.  First of all, I couldn't drink coffee because it was impossible to do so without a cigarette. Then, I had to stop eating bran muffins (you see, I was health conscious even then!) because who has a bran muffin without a cup of coffee? Then, I had to find a new place to eat breakfast because I couldn't go to the diner where I used to have a bran muffin with a cup of coffee and a cigarette.  Then, I discovered that I also had to give up reading the paper. Yup, the paper went with the coffee and muffin and...well, you get my drift.  

Simply getting up in the morning presented so many triggers that I had real doubts about my ability to hold tough. The evenings were just as bad, since going out with my friends meant exposing myself to their smoking. Then, there were the bars, which were not smoke-free zones back then! Basically, it was impossible to go anywhere with anyone! To say the least, it was a rough first year, and I probably quit about eight times.  By the time I was smoke free for a solid year I felt that I really could call myself an ex-smoker. I thought that was it, that I was safe and could go anywhere and no longer be tempted.

 Ultimately,  we decided to stop on New Year's Eve. Funny, right? You would think I might have learned something by now.  Of course, you know how this turned out: same story, different year.  The days and weeks after New Year's Eve were the same as the time before, except for one thing. One day when I was in the midst of lying to myself again, I had the courage to call it what it was: a lie.  I hadn't realized that I had been lying to myself every time I made an empty promise to myself until that day.  It was as if a light went on.  On a Wednesday afternoon, at 1:23 PM with three quarters of a pack left, with a half smoked cigarette in my hand, with my boyfriend still smoking my brand, no less, I quit. I put out that last one, without even taking a final puff and then tore up the rest of the pack and threw it away. I was done. I knew it would be hard, and I knew there would be triggers, and I knew there would be temptations. However, I was tired of smoking and lying to myself with silly plans to quit at the perfect moment. I knew that if I weren't serious about it then and there, I would never do it.  

Just Kick It! 

 You can do this!  Just Lose It!!!