Thanks, everyone, for helping me to celebrate my silverness. Anyone whose ever seen my posts would know that it was definitely not being able to narrow the words down, not the absence of words that left me speechless. LOL That would totally NOT be a very female thing to do, huh?

Plus Friday was the craziest, most stress-filled day at work all day long, and when I got home, I had so much to do that I was sure it wasn't all going to get done. I was overwhelmed, completely stressed, and too busy for words, and here's the glorious part...

During all that stress and pressure, not ONCE did I ever even consider smoking. That thought actually seems rather bizarre to me now. HALLELUJAH!!!! Bizarre thoughts are really bizarre to me now, THAT WAS THE GOAL!

It was not too very long ago that I spent my days waiting and waiting to get some relief from the irrational thoughts that once consumed me when I was an actively-feeding addict. Those thoughts seemed so powerful, the urges uncontrollable. The desire for nicotine was more than simply a desire, I thought it was more urgent a need than food or shelter or self-preservation.

I was killing myself for a poison that I was sure I couldn't live without. I remember when I truly learned what ONE DAY AT A TIME means. It literally means DON'T SMOKE TODAY! That's it! It's that simple. Tomorrow we'll deal with tomorrow, but for today, don't smoke, NO MATTER WHAT. That is all it took to get to six months. But, somewhere along the way (and I'm not entirely sure when it happened) I started being comfortable more than I was uncomfortable, and now I am very rarely ever uncomfortable.

I was uncomfortable last week for about 10 seconds. I went to my daughter's first softball game of the season, and sat in the same place I sat last year and the first thing I thought of after I got sat down was, "Time to smoke". Luckily for me, there was a couple sitting really close to me smoking. (I know, how is that lucky?) It was lucky because I was able to quickly see them smoking, smell them smoking, and remember just how much I used to HATE, REALLY HATE smoking at my daughter's games with all the non-smoking parents glaring at me in disgust. I took a deep breath, smiled, and RELAXED because I had reached my goal...I AM AT LAST A COMFORTABLE EX-SMOKER!!!

These days, the smoking thoughts (yes, thoughts, not urges, not cravings, nothing but fleeting thoughts) are followed in short order by a smile and sometimes complete laughter, depending on how silly the smoking memory. Usually all it takes to stop an imagined or remembered desire is the actual smell of a cigarette burning. In the early days, I was afraid that being around others who were smoking would make me want to smoke. Now the opposite is the case. One lungful of second-hand smoke, and I'm thanking God that I no longer subjecting myself and my family to that aweful stench, the burning eyes and throat, the whole nasty feeding frenzy!

BTW, I remember early in my quit I would see someone write that they had smoking thoughts at 6 months, or a year quit, and the junky inside would say, "See, they've been quit a long time and they still want to smoke. You might as well just give up now and save yourself the misery." I want anyone who is having those kinds of thoughts to tell your inner junky to shut up. The fact of the matter is that a smoking thought now is NOTHING like a smoking thought early in your quit. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't pull at your mind. It doesn't make your stomach clench. It doesn't get in your head and ruin your life. It just comes and goes like any other thought. There's no emotion attached to it anymore. It is a benign thought.

Now, let's qualify all this talk of success with my knowledge of addiction. This is truly what has made it possible for me to stay quit forever. Knowing (and believing) that one puff will cause a complete and total relapse to 2 packs a day no matter how long I have been quit is the secret to my success.

In closing, (yes, I am really gonna shut up soon) I want to share something. Last year at the same ballpark, my son fell and broke his arm. I enjoyed relating my smoking memory to his arm-breaking memory. It would have been absurd for him to get to the park for the first time this year and think, "I broke my arm here last year, so I need to break it again now because I'm here." Another trigger bites the dust!

~Jeanne
6 months, 2 days and counting...and totally in love with my quit!