Kickin' the Habit by Debby Myers #WindowOvertheSink

They call it “Kickin’ the Habit.” It’s something I really haven’t tried too hard to do. My habit began the night my new boyfriend picked me up in his 1978 Mustang Cobra. Remember those? His had bright blue lettering. When I got in that car, I had that feeling. You know the one…damn, I feel cool! As we drove toward his house, he lit up a cigarette. My habit began.

In a few weeks it will be 40 years since my habit started. Forty years. It started with just a few cigarettes a few times a week. By the time I graduated, it was a few a day.

We had a big party the first weekend we moved into our place at college. Two roommates were sharing this great three- bedroom, two-bath, second floor apartment with me, complete with a balcony. It was at that party that I discovered they both had the habit, too. Great news! After all, living with a non-smoker would have made it more uncomfortable. They’d probably have made me go out to the balcony, even in the winter. People do that to you when you have the habit.

It was during that year that my habit grew into several smokes a day. I had been dating my boyfriend during that time. He had the habit, but only when he drank, which was often. We moved in together, soon learning we were expecting. We got married. I went to the doctor. She asked if I had the habit, but I lied so I wouldn’t get a lecture. I considered giving up the habit. I even slowed down. Yet I remembered the story about my grandma. She smoked non-filter cigarettes all the time. She had several children who all turned out fine. An excuse.

Soon after my daughter was born, my whole family was telling me it would be bad for her if I didn’t kick the habit. I used my grandma’s excuse. Plus, my own dad smoked, then my stepdad. They were all hypocrites. As my choices were really my own now for the first time, I made the first of many bad ones when I decided to continue to smoke. The habit had grown to a pack of cigarettes a day. I was 20, and it  has remained there since.

 I’ve had many friends with the habit over the years. I’ve also had many without it who have tried to talk me into quitting, telling me all the different types of cancer it causes, diseases, deaths. They must know I know all of that. I’d say, “The habit is very hard to break. Any habit, really. I have others. I bite my fingernails making, them look hideous, yet I love my toenails painted. For many years I’ve been addicted to sweet tea and Altoids.” They couldn’t argue with that.

Any habit is hard to leave behind because it’s the biggest form of change there is. I still don’t like change to this day. What would be the point of quitting now anyway? Isn’t the damage already done? So many excuses, 40 years’ worth.

One of the toughest challenges in defending my habit used to be defending it to my children. When my oldest daughter started to smoke, I didn’t know how to handle it. I, who handle all kinds of things with them, couldn’t handle this. They had all three seen me smoke since they were born. It was something else I’d been warned about. My grandma Betty would say, “Do you want them to have the habit because of you?” Ah, I could handle that when the time came. Not so much. Although I think the other two tried it, she is still the only one with the habit.

It’s funny how in recent years smoking has lost its cool. That was my original attraction, remember? The Mustang Cobra, the feeling…I do. Now you can’t smoke in so many places. Now I am frowned upon. Even by those who had the habit but were strong enough to break it. I’m a strong person, right? The problem has always been that I didn’t really want to. I like smoking. This time the excuse is that it relaxes me when I’m tense. Well, it does!

Heck, when I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, I found out one of the

causes was smoking. My neurologist saw on my record that I had been a pack-a-day smoker for 35 years. Like every doctor I ever admitted to about it, she told me I needed to quit. There are drugs now, patches, gum, support groups. She also told me she wouldn’t tell me again—it was my choice. My habit has become so expensive. I’m on disability now, living on half the income I had when I worked. Surely that $180 a month I spend on my habit would be better spent on paying my bills or buying food.

It was. It was my choice. Breaking my habit was now something I should really consider. My excuses just weren’t cutting it anymore. Smoking was doing all the things I’d been warned about and read about. It was affecting my health, my empty pocketbook, and one of my three children didn’t want me to smoke around his kids. My house, that I’ve lived in for 25 years, has smoke-covered walls and no matter how much air freshener I spray, it smells like smoke.

My mother-in-law had the habit, too. She is on oxygen 24/7 and suffers from emphysema. I might turn out that way, too―sooner than I realize if I don’t quit. Now they have those commercials. You know the ones. I might turn out like them, too. So, I made that list―the one with the pros of the habit matching the cons. I knew before I did it what the results would be. I’d never considered quitting before. Maybe the time had come.

I’ve had the habit myself for 40 years, but I’ve been exposed to it since I was born. I still might turn out to have a disease. The damage might already be done. I still might die from it. Quitting would be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I still might not succeed. Despite all of that, for the first time, leaving my habit behind is on the table. I finally want to “kick the habit.” January 1, 2020 is the date. Pray for my sanity! Pray for my weight (not to grow)! Pray for my husband!