I quit this past September after smoking for eight or nine years. I'd hated the idea of being "a smoker" though. I'd tried once or twice in the past, but not very seriously if I'm honest.
My boyfriend doesn't like smoking, though he never asked me not to, but I didn't want him to be disgusted by me. I was thrilled enough that it wasn't a deal breaker. So whenever we were together I'd smoke so much less. Maybe one or two a day, sometimes not even that. He came here in August for a semester and I'd only really smoke when I wasn't with him, but I tried to cut down significantly even at those times.
It was basically all plain determination, even when I faultered. I'd smoke one cigarette all day and then get frustrated the next day and smoke a whole pack, but I wouldn't let that determine that I'd failed over all. I'd think, "I'm still quitting!" and I'd just do better the next day. I knew that I had to get past the three day hump, where all the nicotine is out of your body and it's just psychological addiction. That was my first goal. A couple times I got nervous about reaching it and smoked at two and a half days (you'd have to be addicted to understand that anxiety). BUT, once I reached the three days, I really fought harder because I knew it would only be more difficult again if I had one.
Then one day I realized I hadn't smoked in a week. It's hard, but I think its all just determination.
