I updated my Facebook with the status non smoker the other day. It was a spur of the Monday morning decision caused by my usual beginning of the week fatigue, the heaviness in my lungs and the creeping lines slowly making their way down my face. My relationship with cigarettes began at age 11, the film Pulp Fiction had just come out and a large poster of Uma Thurman smoking a cigarette adorned my brother’s wall. Highly suggestible child that I was, I stole a cigarette from my brother’s pack and ventured outside to smoke it. I lit it, inhaled deeply and the world turned black, after almost coughing up a couple a entrails I swore I’d never touch another one again. Fast forward three years and I’m standing in bush behind a football pitch and a guy is asking me if I smoke, a blue packet opened hospitably in my direction. I take one; I inhale, not so deeply this time and decide it’s not so bad after all. So here I am 10 years later. 10 years of poisoning myself with toxic fumes under the guise of it being a social habit. So as well as trying to brainwash myself with the wise words of Allen Carr, I also had a look at some of the recent amazing anti smoking campaigns in the hope that it would shock me into giving up this vile habit once and for all.


