I picked up my first cigarette in college. My roommate smoked and asked me to join her for a Virginia Slim and a study break. 
It didn't take long for cigarettes to accompany me to the coffee house or to bars/late night partys with alcohol and drug were served. Soon, I developed a pack a day habit, although I rationalized that my ciggies were ultra lights.
I can't count how many times I tried to quit. Each time I did, I lasted a few hours before a cigarette was back in my hand. I purchased my cigarettes from the drive through Farm store and every time I passed one, the cigarettes called me by name. "Pssst, Cate, come buy a pack. What's one more day going to matter?"
After a decade of smoking, I was choking and hacking. I smelled, my car smelled, my clothes smelled and my breath smelled. I couldnt leave the house without my ciggies in my purse. I lied to dates so I wouldn't be a turn off. I lied to my customers so I wouldnt be a fraud (hard to sell healthcare and smoke!)
A guy I was dating in recovery said to me, "It's me or the cigarettes." My lust for him was greater than my desire to smoke so I decided to give quitting another try. I used breathsavers to address my nicotine cravings. I popped one in my mouth every time I wanted a smoke. I jogged with frequency and used the 12 steps to address my obsession.
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