I started smoking when I was 16 or 17, never anything serious, cigarette here or there. Never really picked up the habit until after second daughter was born. I was 21, hubby and I were having problems, just started working at a job where others smoked, alot. I still didn't smoke alot. I was the kind of person that could buy a pack of cigarettes and still have over half left after a month. After hubby and I separated, I took my kids and moved back home w/ my mom. Life happened and the stress started piling on. It then came to a point that I was going through a pack a week. Not a lot to some I know, but waaay too much for me.
I tried quitting a couple of times. One that was partially effective, was that if I wanted a cigarette, I had to put the cost of a pack away in a savings jar, whether I bought the pack or not. That lasted for almost a year. Then I found out that my mother was being abusive to my kids while I was working...the stress came roaring back worse than ever, started smoking again, and I even developed bladder incontinence.
Sunday March 26, 2006 was my last night at my job and my girls and I moved away on the 31st. That last night I worked was the last time I had a cigarette. I had realized a long time ago that stress was my trigger to smoking, and by that point I was tired of smoking. I would be taking a smoke break and just berating myself for doing something that I didn't even enjoy anymore. I kept that pack of cigarettes that I didn't finish, it's still in the console of my vehicle. There are moments when I still get stressed out, and out of the blue I want a cigarette, but I made a pact w/ myself that if I want one, I have to finish that pack first. The thought of those stale things is enough to turn me off.
And on a side note, since moving away from that major stressor, no more bladder incontinence