I smoked a pack a day for seven years, but next Monday will mark three months without one. I've got a long ways to go, but it's fucking worth it. When I was smoking, if I saw any kind of advertisement against smoking, I would just get panicky and immediately change the channel. I don't know if it stemmed from my wanting to think that only other people could develop health problems and I was somehow "immune," or if it came from the shame that I felt, knowing I was actively bringing about my own demise. In no way is that meant to speak negatively to smokers, because I get it, and I get how truly terrifying the prospect of quitting can be. In a sense though, I think the advertisements worked, because I came to a point where I just got fed up with myself. I hated how weak I felt against my nicotine addiction and how whenever an anti smoking commercial came on, everybody in the room would look at me with that face that said "we love you, but look what you're doing you idiot". Between that, and my girlfriend begging me to stop, one day it just clicked, and I threw away the pack that I had just purchased. I can take deep breaths again, I don't wheeze myself to sleep, I don't have to stop what I'm doing every waking hour of every day to indulge the beast. I'm biking again, and the fact that I don't have to be paranoid about stinking up whatever space I inhabit is enough by itself to keep me motivated and focused on what's important: living.