Firstly, really sorry if I've zipped onto this thread and taken it in a direction the original posters would rather not. If so, please continue around me and hub2dee as we continue our cod psychology of the act of smoking.
But 'habit' IS the right word... Habit is the base line of all our basic behaviours, it conditions what we know and what we expect to happen. When habits get interrupted, doubts sneak in. The habit of smoking is, I often think, a way of keeping at bay other more unpredictable sides of life. It's an illusory neutralisation of the unexpected. (Sorry if I sound too complicated). In my mind, it is habit that makes smoking so deadly. The acoutrements, in contrast, are easily replaced. I also love bags, shoes, etc. But seeing as I'm usually broke, I get used to living without the best ones.
In fact, food and obesity are already a 'biggie', especially given the growing number of obese kids. But I still hold that although it's a real problem, it's different in kind to that of smoking. Just like anorexia is a different problem to bulimia. The distinctions aren't massively important in a way, but at the same time if one wants to really understand a problem it's important, I think, to get the details right.
None of my friends smoke. Nor anyone I work with (which is only 2 days a week). I don't know I can say they are all vehemently against smoking. None of them like it but I rarely smoke in front of them, never in their homes (or mine for that matter). I also don't smoke in public places. I am very aware how distasteful it is, and as I am ashamed of doing it I prefer to keep it discreet. This aspect also helps me keep my smoking levels down as I have to make more 'effort' to have a fag. At my peak, before pregnancy, I used to smoke at home, especially while writing, and I found I got through a ridiculous amount. Dp's never mentioned my breath. Yet! Although yes, of course he wants me to stop.
The motivation to stop is almost entirely dd-focused. No, we don't have any immediate family to speak of, certainly nobody who could look after dd unless you count my erratic gay brother. Dp would 'cope' but I've been consistently dd's main carer and our bond is enormous. Dp is lovely, but not a practical man. Every night she goes to bed I sit thinking how I love her and I still feel 'excited' about seeing her in the morning before she wakes up. Honest. She's my little star. Pre-dd my motivation was nil, I was a typical artist / student on a vague 'self-destruct' mission in the 'the world is shit so what the hell do I care' kind of way. I was like that from teendome into my mid-30's so the adjustment from that to someone who actually HAS to think differently is a tough one.
Oh, come on, does anyone feel their universe is 'in control'??? Given the world we currently live in? Of course not. All I can say is that my little corner, right now in the most important ways, is about the best it's ever been. Which is why I am so utterly flummoxed as to why now, of all times, I can't get my willpower together.