I can hardly believe I've become an "Elder" on the Q. An Elder is one who has remained smoke-free for 100 days. When I started this Quit (sounds funny....) I didn't think that far ahead. 100 days? That would take an eternity to reach - I couldn't believe I'd every make it to 100 smoke free days.
But I did. I feel so much better now. I smell so much better now! I went to visit our oldest, and was greeted with "You look so much younger!" That really threw me for a loop. I hadn't realized how smoking was messing my complexion up. But it was and now it isn't and I look to be in my mid thirties, if our eldest's landlady is to be believed. I'm relatively certain she's not a lesbian, and thus has no reason to flatter me. *grin*
I posted my 100 Day Ramble after I got back from my family vacation, which was fun. Then Tax Day hit and we're $18,000.00 in the hold suddenly and now I get to quit freelancing for a living and start looking for a full time job.
Well, it was great while it lasted.
The fantastic thing is, even though this was the toughest few hours to get through since my Day Three, I didn't smoke. I stayed smoke-free and I genuinely believe I shall remain smoke free the rest of my life.
It's good to have a success story somewhere in your life history. This is one of the best kinds of success stories to have. One that means a happier, healthier life.
Click the "more" link if you want to read my 100 Day Ramble...
Jelly-Side Up - My 100 Day Ramble (belated)There's a movie quote that says "There's a separate God for children and fools." I'm not a child anymore (if ever I was) but I believe, when I think back on the choice I made to start smoking, I surely fell into the second category, a fool. Fortunately I have a whole platoon of Guardian Angels, and I'm afraid I keep all of them busy to the point of working overtime.
From near-death car accidents that miraculously didn't happen to flash floods that should have killed me but didn't, from abusive father to abusive ex, from uncaring foster homes to lightning striking literally at my feet, from an appendix that burst four times to having all my babies at home, my guardian angels have always made sure I landed jelly-side up.
Nowhere is that more evident than in this journey that I've undertaken called "My Quit". I've mentioned before how kind my Quit has been to me. I'm not boasting or trying to make others feel bad. I'm actually more amazed than anybody else. I was terrified, as I'm sure I've stated before, and I was so very tightly braced for what I anticipated would be THE WORST experience of my life - and considering some of the experiences I've lived through, that's saying a lot. But I've landed jelly-side up once again, and I can't adequately express my gratitude.
I genuinely believed that what I would endure when quitting was going to be teeth-gnashing torture. Still, I'd wanted to quit for decades, and I finally just had enough of the addiction. I *hate* being out of control of my own faculties (to the extent that the only time I ever fainted, I did so with my eyes wide open!) and being addicted to *anything* means that something else had control over ME. I hate that. So I gathered up all my courage and decided, come hell or high water, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how bad it got, I was going to by-God QUIT SMOKING.
And that's the key. There was no option of going back to smoking. I was ready to walk through the worst possible torture to achieve a smoke-free life, and taking even one puff was not an option. Day three rocked me a bit, but I gritted my teeth and all of a sudden one day I realized.... I wasn't suffering! Certainly not as much as I suffered, say, as a smoker on a plane three hours from my destination and wanting (FIENDING FOR) a smoke. I wondered how that could be, when essentially it was the same thing... wasn't it?
But it isn't, you see. On the plane, 3 hours from my destination, as a smoker my mind told me that I would be feeding my addiction as soon as the plane landed. And so, the plane couldn't possibly land soon enough to suit me. As an ex-smoker, without giving myself an option to smoke, that burden is lifted from me. I don't HAVE to worry about when my next smoke will be. It WON'T be. So I don't have to wait for it. Or anticipate it. Or drum my fingers on the table till I get to it. I'll never get to it. It's so easy now. All I have to do is ride out the cravings and the urges and get past that part of my Quit...
I realize that I've landing jelly-side up at the good part, where I enjoy every breath of fresh air and wake up without coughing my fool head off.
From here on out, I know that staying smoke-free is my ticket to ever-decreasing smoking thoughts... my ticket to freedom from ANY smoking thoughts or urges. To me, it doesn't matter how long it takes for me to arrive at that point and be able to consider myself a non-smoker. I'm an EX-smoker and that makes me both happy and proud.
It also makes me very thankful. I found the Q three days into my Quit, and I sincerely believe that was the luckiest stroke of all. My "D3" was my nemesis and I very well might have given up if I hadn't found the Q.
I cannot thank all of you enough. Even if you aren't aware of it, if you've posted you have impacted my Quit in a positive way. The "New Years" gang I came in with has been the best group, without a doubt or reservation. The folks ahead who keep coming back to help those of us who follow... man, how can I ever thank them enough for continuing to reach back to lend a hand. My "Quit Twin" who always knows the right thing to say... Sister Mine, when count my blessings, I count you twice.
My silly hat is a white firefighter's hat with red and blue swooping stripes on it, to match my new wheelbarrow. It has a see-through face shield. The red stripe represents my passion for my Quit. The blue stripe represents my "true blue" committment to my life and my Quit. The hat has a chin strap that holds it securely to my head. We use these hats when we do fireworks shows to protect us after the show when we "clear the guns" and make sure all the shells are gone. Sometimes the guns are still smoking when we do this, and the hat protects us from the danger of a possible "cooker" that could detonate unexpectedly. I chose this silly hat because I know I must stay vigilant and protect my Quit till the day I die.
I became an elder while I was away on vacation, visiting my kids and their kids in Savannah. I look at the pictures I brought back of my grandson, who celebrated his 5th birthday during my stay, and my granddaughter who was born on Valentine's day, and I thank God that their parents, like me, have chosen to live smoke free and break this cycle of addiction our family seems to have been cursed with. I'll just sit in the Elder Lodge a bit in the comfy chair and reflect on that a while and give humble thanks. And all of you will be included in the long, long list of the people and things for which I am thankful.
I have indeed landed jelly-side up to be with you all here and now.
GareK