I'm not speaking to any present company obviously (since I can't smell you!)
Mostly it's a thing left over from being a child trapped in the same house with my mother. She would inhale, then exhale smoke and criticism at me for years. I can't smell tobacco without feeling psychologically suffocated. I know it's all in my head, but just like cinnamon reminds me of christmas and a certain cologne reminds me of my first love, cigarettes remind me of wanting to escape or die. I'm not trying to judge or criticise others who smoke, my only point is that the smell triggers my PTSD, and yes I will move along if I can.
Of course, you all may smoke as much as you please, but we aren't going to be roommates!
Edited by darci, 12 December 2013 - 11:32 AM.