Hey, that's a long time!
Haven't had a single ciggie since my quit day. It's hard, sometimes. The beginning of the quit was exciting. It was something new! A project! I got lots of attention! And I could blame everything on the quit. That was great. If I was feeling irritable or sensitive -- oh, I could say, that's because I just quit smoking. If I didn't want to do something -- I could say I had to protect myself from the anxiety doing the task would stir up because I had to make the quit my top priority. If I had a sudden urge to eat a pint of ice cream -- anything for the cause of the quit!
Now, the novelty and accompanying excitement is gone. Invoking "the quit" no longer works as an all-purpose excuse.
So it's harder to stay motivated.
What I have to do is consciously remind myself of the ways my life is better without the cigs. How I have more energy. How I don't feel so guilty about messing up my health (a guilt that I repressed while smoking but that I now see had always been there). How I don't have to plan how I'm going to make my getaways to go have my smokes -- and how I don't have to suffer withdrawal pangs when getting away isn't possible. How I can walk up the hills without getting winded! That's a signficant perk, considering I live in a hilly city without a car.
These are good benefits, even if they're not as flashy as the ice cream, attention, novelty, and sense of accomplishment of the early days. They should be enough, right? Then why does this quit feel so unsolid?
Maybe that's just the way it is. Maybe I'll never feel certain. I would rather
feel sure of myself, would rather believe that I will never smoke again, but if this is the way it's going to be from here on out, I guess I can live with that.