Day One- Hey Pot- Meet The Kettle

Ok, here it is. I am a smoker. I mean, not really but...ok, ok, I am going to keep going...YES, I am.

I am going to full blogosphere confessional now.

Most who know me would not classify me this way, but that is because I am what you would call a "closet smoker". When my Doctor asks me if I smoke, I lie, and say, "Casually, and, only when I drink." What I neglect to say is that I casually smoke nearly every night and will have a glass of wine just to give me the excuse of having a couple of cigarettes. These few little 'cancer sticks' add up to a dozen or more per week a least. My husband knows and tolerates it. My sister knows but is a smoker too so she can commiserate. My mom and other close friends and family members might have a general sense of my extracurricular activities but if they do they are kind and keep it to themselves. Then again, this might be the first they hear of it.

But I cannot talk about getting healthy, losing weight, and trying to find the balance of being a better mom and inspiration while simultaneously lying to myself and others about this crutch. So, there are a lot of whys to discuss in this revealing. This awakening of sorts.

First and foremost, why do I smoke? Well, I have on and off for the better part of my life. I smoked my first cigarette at 18 and hated it. I tried again in college and most everyone smoked amongst my crowd. I think that the for the first few years I wasn't even inhaling correctly. But boy did I learn. And once I did, it became my crutch. My poison of choice. This vice of mine definitely relieved my stress and the nicotine dripped into my system like a toxic friend.

I quit after college and then started up again. I quit before I got married and then started up again. I quit during the pregnancies and nursing of both my children but after having them I devised a way to introduce my old friends into my life. I would buy a pack for an outing or a party with friends and pass it off as "just this once." And then that one pack would turn into two and then before I knew it, I was smoking almost every night- at least one. And lately I battle with not just how awful it makes me feel, but with the stress I feel from keeping it a secret. A secret from coworkers, friends, family, and my children. I even smoked in my brand new car and wow did that ever leave a nice family fight in our history. Not to mention the new car smell had never been the same.

Why now? Why am I stopping now? Well, I would like to consider myself a pretty smart person. And this is a pretty dumb thing to do. And even though it is a taboo subject, even the President of the United States struggles with this issue, so I can't feel ashamed anymore. And I can't keep saying that because a pack of cigarettes could last me two weeks I am a casual or social smoker. I am not. It will kill me eventually and I have to stop.

Why am I confessing all of this on a blog? Doesn't it seem so impersonal, and god, even risky? I could alienate people, offend, disappoint, and alter people's opinions of me even! Friends, family members and even coworkers read this.

It is because I love my husband and my children and can't believe I am voluntarily shortening my stay on this earth with them. It is because I am going to run a half of a marathon in May and I want to do it as an official non-smoker. It is because I can find more to do with that time than smoke. Better things to do.

It is because I aim to write the truth of my life.

This blog was started as a great way to share pictures and stories with family and friends about my children. And then, somewhere along the way, it ended up as a diary of sorts. An on-line journal of the ordinary and extraordinary. And when I started Weight Watchers, and lost 20 pounds, and the began running, I thought I could just stop and all would be better. But I smoked on. I would quit for weeks leading up to the few races I did last year and then start up again. I stared down the barrel of that gun many times and exclaimed to myself, "NO MORE!". But then I did it again. I can blame stress, nicotine, tobacco companies, and genetics...but until I admit it, and quit and move on... then I am nothing but a hypocritical, lying, suicidal (for yes, in case you hadn't heard- those things kill you), moron.

I may have some social setbacks; I am not going to say I am perfect. But this is Day One. And I am starting now. I am a non-smoker.

And P.S. to my loved ones and others who may be disappointed in me and to the ones who might not have known: I am sorry I kept this part of my life hidden. I am sorry that I used this terrible outlet for stress. But help me now in kicking this thing. And if you have some hidden habits and some things you want to change, you don't need to post them for the world to see. But maybe telling just one person will help you move forward with the life you truly want to live.

I am putting it out there now. Not turning back. This isn't just a 2010 resolution. This is my life and the rest of my journey.