Cigarettes are the most evil, pernicious, nasty little bastards to give up. Quite how a small paper tube containing some shredded leaves can have quite such a hold over us, I never did work out.
It's not a physical thing, that's for sure. I mean; within 48 hours or so, you're through the physical cravings and withdrawl. And that's only if you're a heavy smoker. If you're just the kind who smokes a few in the evenings, you could stop with hardly any physical cravings at all.
So if it's not the biological stuff that's causing dependence, what in the hell is it? I reckon it was because I needed it for other reasons and I think you've hit it on the head, Pluck:
I am having trouble conceiving of myself as someone who doesn't smoke.
Y'see, us smokey people (I quit five years ago) are rebels, aren't we? Bugger what people say, we like a crafty ciggie and it's not really going to harm us, is it?
We're part of a subculture. We're a bit dangerous. We're people who don't give a fuck. Smoking says something about how we wish others to see us. It helps us define who we are.
James Dean in his leather Jacket.
Marlene Dietrich, looking elegant.
Then there's Bogey. He's The Man, right?
Then you see something like this:
My advice:
Redefine who you are.