One year, 5 months

For a brief moment there my blog was translating what I typed into Hindi! Not necessarily a problem, except it was translating as I was typing. I, unfortunately, do not understand Hindi.

But back to the title of my post.. It has been one year and five months since I quit smoking. The longest cessation period prior to this was 3 months, and during those 3 months I was unbearable - basically because I really didn't want to stop smoking and I couldn't handle the anxiety. I can't say that I really wanted to stop smoking this time around either. But I realized that I couldn't afford the cost of gasoline in my monster truck and indulge in clove cigarettes at the same time. We hadn't yet been approved for the loan for the truck and it was incredibly iffy that we were going to be able to secure the financing. Still, if I wanted this truck a sacrifice had to be made. I prayed. Something I hadn't done in a long, long time. But I struck a deal with my deity. If we were approved for the loan for the truck, I would quit smoking. The loan went through. I wasn't ready to stop smoking. So I rationalized that my agreement with God REALLY said that I would stop smoking once I actually HAD the truck. Always a stupid, stupid idea to try to play lawyer with God. In any case, the truck was at the mechanic, getting the engine rebuilt. Call it what you want, but that damn truck didn't get finished until I put out my last cigarette and didn't buy a new pack. The very next day the truck came home.

Since I love my truck (despite the AC's sudden and untimely death this month) it seems a more than fair trade. Of course that's before I calculate that the evaporator coil for the AC only costs about $100, but will cost over $900 in labor to replace! Since I'm not currently employed this situation causes grave irritation. But I learned some significant and wild things about myself when I gave up cigarettes. I had never realized just how anxious I was.. or how smoking helped to mask that anxiety - while at the same time adding to it with the whole nicotine addiction, it's true - but it appeared to calm everything at the time! I'm unquestionably calmer now, after the quitting, cravings, frustration, anxiety meltdowns, and removal of all of those little nicotine receptor sites in my poor beleagured brain. But every once in a while I wish for the sweet aromatic smell of cloves and the harsh inhale into my lungs. I'm glad I quit, even though I have yet to make good on the promise to achieve an amazing level of fitness with my newly healed lungs leading the charge - well that was the plan anyway.. I've saved more money than I could calculate, hopefully have removed the carcinogens (sp?) that I was pumping in to mutate cells, and no longer smell like smoke and an East Indian convention. On the other hand I've come to realize in the last few days that I enjoyed smoking and I haven't found anything to replace that enjoyment and feeling of relaxation. At this point a cigarette would taste very much like licking an ashtray - not something I'd recommend. So what do I do with my realization, since I'm not going to start smoking again?