One year and one day ago, back when I was a smoker:
ZOMG I miss those shorts…
One year ago, when I was a non-smoker:
ZOMG, I miss those pants…
Anyway. Yes. Just realized, going through photos from last year’s Mount St. Helens jaunt, that it’s been a full year since I’ve lit a cigarette. I miss the shorts and pants I used to fit in to, mostly because they don’t seem to make decent shorts for women anymore and I loved those capris, but it’s not often I miss smoking. Oh, here and there, when I’m bored or shopping or just randomly out of nowhere, I’ll get a craving, kind of like feeling a phantom limb. It goes away nearly immediately, though. I don’t miss the smell, or the expense, or the hacking of a morning. I finally met my goal of gaining five pounds (and kept on till I gained 30). This means I don’t get as many people wondering if I’m anorexic, then wondering if I’m bulimic after they’ve seen me eat. Which is nice.
I’ve forged an identity as an ex-smoker now, so I don’t feel quite as not-me as I did when I first quit. Wellbutrin took care of the stress, and has done far more for me than nicotine ever did. And I can run, which I couldn’t do back then. So it’s nice to be ex. Figure I’ll keep on keeping on until the opportunity to take up the habit again is gone forever. Very hard to inhale a nice deep puff o’ smoke when you’re no longer breathing, amirite?
Tell you something, too: everything tastes better. Hence the 30 pounds. Food and I, we’ve become bosom buddies. I’m not as mouthy as when I first quit, but despite not needing to constantly have a cigarette substitute in the cakehole, I’m still loving the eating. Oy. In fact, I think I’ll do some more of that before bed, here.
Thank you for all your encouragement and cheerleading and commiserating, my darlings. You got me through those initial difficult times (Chantix made it much less difficult, but you lot gave me the will). You did it! Now you can stop worrying, because if I’ve done 365 days without wishing I could go back, I never will. And even if I start having fond memories, the knowledge of what you’ll do to me if I backslide will keep me from breaking down. :-)
Besides, I’m spending all my spare cash on food. And adventures. And books. And new pants. And lotsa other stuff. That’s as addictive as the cigarettes were, and far more fun.
Should any of you need a cheerleading section as you embark on your own career as an ex-smoker, let me know. Ye olde lungs can hold a lot more air than previously, so I should be able to give you a good shout!