Today’s writing prompt is: “What bad habit have you managed to quit?”
I’ve probably written about this before, but the big one for me was quitting smoking. I quit on New Year’s Day, 1991.
At the time, I was smoking two packs a day of Salems, a menthol cigarette. They cost $2.50 a pack back then, with a new California tax about to kick in. I didn’t want to quit. I actually enjoyed smoking.
My dad had died of lung cancer in December of 1989. On his deathbed, he begged all the smokers in the family to quit. I don’t remember promising him that I would. The truth is, the only reason I quit was because my husband wanted to quit, and I did it to support him.
I went cold turkey, armed with cinnamon candy. Within a few weeks, the roof of my mouth started peeling from sucking on so much of it.
By early March, I felt awful all the time and went to the doctor. He told me he could help with the nicotine withdrawal by prescribing a medication. I remember looking at him and asking, “Why would I trade one addiction for another?” By the end of March, I started to feel better. It really was just a matter of time.
In late April, we attended a neighbor’s wedding. At the reception, I took one sip of a mimosa and became violently ill. I barely made it to the bathroom and was sicker than I had ever been up to that point. My first thought was, “Wow. Still in nicotine recovery.”
We eventually named our “nicotine recovery” Megan.
It turns out that once I quit smoking, I became fertile. During pregnancy, I never wanted a cigarette. I couldn’t stand the smell of hot dogs, let alone cigarette smoke.
After Megan was born in February of 1992, I never once craved nicotine again. I did, however, have dreams about smoking for nearly ten years afterward. I’d wake up feeling guilty, and it would take several minutes to realize I hadn’t actually smoked.
Old habits can linger in strange ways - even after they’re gone.
Have you ever quit a bad habit?
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