four month ramble
from dictionary.com:
an·ni·ver·sa·ry (n.) - The annually recurring date of a past event, especially one of historical, national, or personal importance. From the Latin "annus" (year) and "versarius" (returning).
it's always bothered me a bit when people say things like "our three-week anniversary" or "my two-month anniversary" (as many people do); since "anniversary" refers to something that recurs yearly, it's never made sense to me to apply it to units of time measurement of less than a year.
so, i substituted the Latin root "luna" (moon) for "anni" to make:
lu·na·ver·sa·ry (n.) - The monthly recurring date of a past event, especially one of historical, national, or personal importance. From the Latin "luna" (moon) and "versarius" (returning).
yesterday marked my fourth lunaversary; four full months of freedom from feeding my addiction to nicotine. if you had told me in early november of 2001 that i could quit smoking for four days, let alone four months, i would've told you that you were nuts. i wouldn't have believed it; i'd spent way too much time (over thirty years) feeding my addiction and convincing myself that i didn't have a choice.
now i understand that i always had a choice.
when i was ten years old, i could've chosen to listen to my body when it screamed, "are you crazy?!?!? what the hell are you sucking in that poison for?!?!?", but i chose instead to be "cool". i chose to poison myself to gain external validation. and i chose it repeatedly, until my body stopped protesting so loudly.
i chose it repeatedly until i was an addict.
when i was 25, i could've chosen to maintain a quit that had lasted over three years already, but i chose instead to throw that quit away because i was under a lot of stress. i thought that "just this one" would help me deal with that stress more effectively. but "just this one" led to the next one and the next and, in a couple of days, led me back to a pack-a-day habit, just as if i'd never quit. but i thought that, when my life calmed down a bit, i'd just stop again.
my life never really calmed down all that much, and i continued to feed my addiction for another twenty years.
during that twenty years, i watched my mother develop asthma, then copd (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) and finally, congestive heart failure, all from smoking.
i continued to choose to feed my addiction anyway.
i watched my father battle cancer, have half a lung removed, then have the cancer come back as stomach cancer and finally kill him six weeks shy of his sixty-fifth birthday.
i continued to choose to feed my addiction anyway.
i watched my brother battle cancer until he died at the age of 43.
i continued to choose to feed my addiction anyway.
i continued to choose to feed my addiction until i gave myself an advanced case of emphysema, and my doctor said, "quit smoking now, or die a slow, horrible death, fighting for your next breath until you finally lose the fight" - that was my wake-up call. it came on november 12th, 2001. on november 19th, i started to make a different choice:
i started choosing life.
on the morning of november 19th, i woke up and recited my "mantra" for the first time:
"i am a nicotine addict. i cannot afford to feed that addiction; not even one time. so, today, i choose not to smoke."
when i went to bed that night, i congratulated myself for having stuck by that choice that day. the next morning, i recited my mantra again, and the next night was able to congratulate myself for sticking by my choice again.
this morning, i recited my mantra for the 122nd time.
in a little while, i'll congratulate myself for the 122nd for sticking by the choice i made this morning.
it's all about choice.
choose life!
kevin - grateful to be in my 122nd day of freedom!
