Today is smoke-free day 295. It seems so strange to me that even as recently as last night, I got that weird feeling I used to get when it was time for me to need to smoke. No good reason. It's like this odd sensation in the lungs, sort of like they are leaving my body and reaching out and around the corner almost like a longing kind of feeling.
In the past, back in the good old bad days I'd just go smoke. Simple. Easy. Almost brilliant. Except for the whole killing myself by sucking poison, smelling like ass, going broke, standing alone outside in the rain while the "in crowd" of our society stood, um, inside.
Then, when I was more newly quit, I'd take deep breaths, drink water, hope the Chantix would make it pass more quickly and remind myself that cravings (or what I called urges, tuggings or whispers as they, mercifully, decrease in intensity) rarely last any longer than 5 minutes. Totally true, the 5 minute thing (even when 5 minutes seems like 5 years, but that's a different issue).
Now? That sneaky little feeling came, barely more than a last wish dying whisper in strength, and what happened next still amazes me, even now.
Nothing much happened, that's what.
I took one deepish breath (but not the extreme "Oh hell sandwiches on buttered toast breathe, water, cry, curse, water, hate this, breathe even deeper until I screw up my breathing and start to hyperventilate" kind of a deep breath).
Just one deepish breath. All better. Longing feeling forgotten, even, until I started thinking about how far I've come since back in the day, and all I've had to do is just not smoke, one little day at a trite little time while the days string together, my body continues healing and my lungs become almost amusingly easily distracted (like the rest of me lately).