My teaching career began on the Navajo Reservation. The teacher's lounge was a big barren closet (with no windows), except for the old sofa someone fetched from the dry river bottom. All the res teachers smoked and would leave their cigarette packs around the room. No one minded if you bummed from their pack. Plus, at break time you had to sit in a thick cloud regardless of whether you smoked or not. After a year common sense returned, I wasn't going to be a smoker.
I threw my Marlboros in the trash. The 1st few days, no biggee, but I really craved a smoke when sitting in their cloud. Then it was off to the bar after karate practice for a brew. That was worst. Bought another pack and partook though it made me a bit nauseous. Next day, kicked myself, and thru the pack away. So, after a week of not smoking, opened a fresh pack, smoked 2 down to the butt, dry heeved a bit then threw pack away. Later I'd go a month, smoke all I could stand, throw up or dry heeve some, throw the pack away. As time went on the cigarettes only meant sickness and a waste of $$ to me. Surprisingly, even years later having a beer around smokers would trigger a craving. After getting married, I headed over to the burger an' beer joint. Someone had a birthday and were popping balloons with cigarettes. Of course I was handed 1. I took a puff, popped some balloons. When I arrived home, my wife wouldn't let me in the house until I took an outside shower with the water hose; because I stank! Haven't smoked since in 30 years though I do allow myself a lite beer 1 a week or less often. I blame the Presbyterians for my last remaining vice. (they allow beer/wine, just not drunk )