Like many teenagers, I tried smoking out when I was about 16. I used to steal cigarettes from my mom all the time. She smoked like a chimney (still does), and she never missed them. I was always very careful, but I could easily smoke in my bedroom without my parents knowing. The whole house was filled with smoke anyway.
I stopped smoking that same year, and I didn't really feel any effects of withdrawal at all that I can remember.
Fast forward to when I was 31 years old. I met and married the love of my life. He was a smoker, and although he didn't do it while he was at home, I still knew he did it. He wasn't trying to hide it from me, it was just something he did occasionally.
We went on our honeymoon, and I decided that I was going to smoke along with him during the two weeks we were gone. I had every intention of not doing it when we got back. Of course, that didn't happen. Even when I got pneumonia as soon as we returned, I kept right on smoking. He started smoking more often because I did. I really liked it, and I didn't have any intention of stopping.
What followed were a few years of quitting using patches, Chantix, cold turkey, etc. We would always quit, and then start back up again. Sometimes I would start smoking behind his back, always very careful to do it in the mornings/early afternoons while he was at work and the kids were in school. I would shower at the end of the day, just before everyone came home. He never suspected anything. There were a few times when I came clean with him and told him that I had been hiding my smoking from him. I told him I didn't want to quit, and then he would start again.
Most recently, we started again after I had a miscarriage this past November. The stress was too much for me, and I had been smoking a little behind his back up until that point. I told him I was doing it, and we started again, full force. At the end of January, he made the decision for us that we were going to quit (again). He had his last cigarette on February 1st, and while I tried to go along with it, after that first weekend was over, I went right back out and bought another pack to continue my secret smoking during the day, and anytime I could get away for a little while in the evenings. To think of the charade I went through to smoke...it's really pretty embarrassing.
My secret smoking involved a series of hooded sweatshirts that I kept just for that purpose. I would cover myself up, hair and all, and then smoke. Once I was finished, it was an elaborate spraying of perfumes, special spray stuff for my hair, hand sanitizer, and cinnamon gum. I kept all of these things in my purse, and I had them with me at all times. He never suspected, and trust me, he's the kind of guy who would come out and tell me if he thought was I smoking. The man has NO poker face, at all.
As I continued through the month of February, and some of March, my conscience weighed on me pretty heavily. I felt so guilty for what I was doing. I would constantly buy a pack, smoke some, and then throw the rest out because I felt guilty. Our finances were in a terrible mess because I was just constantly throwing away money. I hardly contributed any money to our family because I was using my money (I get paid through PayPal) to buy cigarettes. I made an appointment to go and talk to someone at my church about what I had been doing. She was so receptive, and so understanding. She gave me the encouragement that I needed, and she also told me that my story was so similar to hers, and the way she used to live as a secret smoker. When I left her office, I felt like I could handle quitting.
The next day, I bought another pack.
I'm not sure exactly what caused the switch to flip in my mind. I started praying and asking God to please take the desire to smoke away from me. I asked him to make them taste AWFUL. That next week, I bought a pack in the morning, and while I was out smoking, I went into a cemetery, which was one of my favorite places to smoke. I started to get angry with myself. I told myself that I was really being stupid, and that I didn't need to be doing this to my body. I knew I had turned into a manipulative liar, and I could hardly look at myself in the mirror anymore. In a split-second decision, I threw 3/4 of that pack out, right there in the cemetery. I threw them behind a fence, where I knew I couldn't reach them again if I changed my mind later. I got in my van and I drove to the store and bought a Blu. I went home and took a shower, and resolved to be DONE.
The next day, I ended up in that cemetery while I was going for a "walk" that morning. I tried my darndest to get to those cigs, but I couldn't. Then I thought (OK, this is really embarrassing), "Since I come to this cemetery all the time to smoke, surely there are some butts on the ground near my favorite spots." I went to one of those spots, and picked up a .... that still had some cigarette left to it.
Then I thought, "What are you doing? Are you crazy? This is something that a lunatic would do! Put that down, and go home." I dropped it, finished my walk (for real), and went home. While I was walking, I said, "I just won't smoke today. Just today."
I finished the day in a better state of mind than I was when I started. The next day, I woke up and I thought, "Good job on yesterday. I just won't smoke today. Just today." That was a Sunday. By Monday morning, I was feeling a lot better, and when everyone left for work/school, I waved goodbye to them, and picked up my Blu.
It wasn't long before I realized I liked the Blu, but I felt like I was still kind of throwing money away on them. I decided to talk to my husband and tell him everything. I told him that I thought if I got a better e-cig, it would keep me from going back to smoking, and it would save us some money. After some conversation, he agreed I could get one.
The next day I visited the local vape shop, where the owner spent a long time with me talking about what I needed. He hooked me up with an eGo T, and some really nice e-juice. I took my e-cig home and showed my husband. He had a couple of puffs and said he liked it, and he might use it once in a while too. He frequently talked about feeling tempted to buy cigarettes while he was working, so that weekend I took him back to the vape shop to buy his own eGo T. He really likes it.
This story is hard for me to write, but it's therapeutic too, because I need to remember exactly what a fool I was making of myself all that time. It's been almost three weeks since I had my last analog, and I can say that I've never felt better, and I've never been happier.
Thanks for reading.
I stopped smoking that same year, and I didn't really feel any effects of withdrawal at all that I can remember.
Fast forward to when I was 31 years old. I met and married the love of my life. He was a smoker, and although he didn't do it while he was at home, I still knew he did it. He wasn't trying to hide it from me, it was just something he did occasionally.
We went on our honeymoon, and I decided that I was going to smoke along with him during the two weeks we were gone. I had every intention of not doing it when we got back. Of course, that didn't happen. Even when I got pneumonia as soon as we returned, I kept right on smoking. He started smoking more often because I did. I really liked it, and I didn't have any intention of stopping.
What followed were a few years of quitting using patches, Chantix, cold turkey, etc. We would always quit, and then start back up again. Sometimes I would start smoking behind his back, always very careful to do it in the mornings/early afternoons while he was at work and the kids were in school. I would shower at the end of the day, just before everyone came home. He never suspected anything. There were a few times when I came clean with him and told him that I had been hiding my smoking from him. I told him I didn't want to quit, and then he would start again.
Most recently, we started again after I had a miscarriage this past November. The stress was too much for me, and I had been smoking a little behind his back up until that point. I told him I was doing it, and we started again, full force. At the end of January, he made the decision for us that we were going to quit (again). He had his last cigarette on February 1st, and while I tried to go along with it, after that first weekend was over, I went right back out and bought another pack to continue my secret smoking during the day, and anytime I could get away for a little while in the evenings. To think of the charade I went through to smoke...it's really pretty embarrassing.
My secret smoking involved a series of hooded sweatshirts that I kept just for that purpose. I would cover myself up, hair and all, and then smoke. Once I was finished, it was an elaborate spraying of perfumes, special spray stuff for my hair, hand sanitizer, and cinnamon gum. I kept all of these things in my purse, and I had them with me at all times. He never suspected, and trust me, he's the kind of guy who would come out and tell me if he thought was I smoking. The man has NO poker face, at all.
As I continued through the month of February, and some of March, my conscience weighed on me pretty heavily. I felt so guilty for what I was doing. I would constantly buy a pack, smoke some, and then throw the rest out because I felt guilty. Our finances were in a terrible mess because I was just constantly throwing away money. I hardly contributed any money to our family because I was using my money (I get paid through PayPal) to buy cigarettes. I made an appointment to go and talk to someone at my church about what I had been doing. She was so receptive, and so understanding. She gave me the encouragement that I needed, and she also told me that my story was so similar to hers, and the way she used to live as a secret smoker. When I left her office, I felt like I could handle quitting.
The next day, I bought another pack.
I'm not sure exactly what caused the switch to flip in my mind. I started praying and asking God to please take the desire to smoke away from me. I asked him to make them taste AWFUL. That next week, I bought a pack in the morning, and while I was out smoking, I went into a cemetery, which was one of my favorite places to smoke. I started to get angry with myself. I told myself that I was really being stupid, and that I didn't need to be doing this to my body. I knew I had turned into a manipulative liar, and I could hardly look at myself in the mirror anymore. In a split-second decision, I threw 3/4 of that pack out, right there in the cemetery. I threw them behind a fence, where I knew I couldn't reach them again if I changed my mind later. I got in my van and I drove to the store and bought a Blu. I went home and took a shower, and resolved to be DONE.
The next day, I ended up in that cemetery while I was going for a "walk" that morning. I tried my darndest to get to those cigs, but I couldn't. Then I thought (OK, this is really embarrassing), "Since I come to this cemetery all the time to smoke, surely there are some butts on the ground near my favorite spots." I went to one of those spots, and picked up a .... that still had some cigarette left to it.
Then I thought, "What are you doing? Are you crazy? This is something that a lunatic would do! Put that down, and go home." I dropped it, finished my walk (for real), and went home. While I was walking, I said, "I just won't smoke today. Just today."
I finished the day in a better state of mind than I was when I started. The next day, I woke up and I thought, "Good job on yesterday. I just won't smoke today. Just today." That was a Sunday. By Monday morning, I was feeling a lot better, and when everyone left for work/school, I waved goodbye to them, and picked up my Blu.
It wasn't long before I realized I liked the Blu, but I felt like I was still kind of throwing money away on them. I decided to talk to my husband and tell him everything. I told him that I thought if I got a better e-cig, it would keep me from going back to smoking, and it would save us some money. After some conversation, he agreed I could get one.
The next day I visited the local vape shop, where the owner spent a long time with me talking about what I needed. He hooked me up with an eGo T, and some really nice e-juice. I took my e-cig home and showed my husband. He had a couple of puffs and said he liked it, and he might use it once in a while too. He frequently talked about feeling tempted to buy cigarettes while he was working, so that weekend I took him back to the vape shop to buy his own eGo T. He really likes it.
This story is hard for me to write, but it's therapeutic too, because I need to remember exactly what a fool I was making of myself all that time. It's been almost three weeks since I had my last analog, and I can say that I've never felt better, and I've never been happier.
Thanks for reading.
