I quit two weeks ago, taking advantage of time away from home, separated from my usual habits and routines. Now I'm home, back to the place cigarettes were part of my day, but also slammed by some kind of respiratory illness. This is most likely a garden-variety cold or flu, but could be "quitters' flu", which sometimes hits newly virtuous folks, just to remind us we're not special. I've had that before. I hope this one is brief. 

Why do I quit now, finally? I am reminded by the illnesses of friends. I am newly in love and reminded that I might matter to others, as they do to me. I am reminded that I might like to be here awhile longer, able to think, and speak, and breathe.

I've done this before, been a non-smoker for long periods. I can do it again.

POISON: For Art Therapy with Jen Maddocks at Digital Scrapbooking Studio. Elements from Holliewood, Lifescapes, and (mostly) Jen Maddocks.

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