How I Quit Smoking in 4 Simple Steps (simple doesn't mean easy, unfortunately)

I tried to quit smoking only ONCE. That was 8 years ago today.

It worked.

Not because I'm extra awesome, or that I have extraordinary will power.

But because I know myself well enough to know: 

• if I don't really want to do something, I won't do it.
• I'm persistent and strong enough to do almost anything----when I'm ready.
• I don't do failure well----if I tried to quit smoking before I was ready, I would likely fail, and then might not try again.

My smoking history
I smoked Camel Filters for 20-25 years and LOVED it. I didn't waffle on that point.

After my first 10 years, I rarely smoked during the day, never at anything associated with my profession, nor outside buildings like kids waiting for the Principal to arrive.

Which was easy, because---even 8 years ago---you could still smoke in clubs, bars, music venues, etc. in most places.

But when I smoked, I smoked like a house-a-fire, up to a pack a night. I wasn't ambivalent or wish that I didn't smoke, or berate myself. Tho my friends were always wishing they could quit, trying, and mostly failing.

My positive attitude toward smoking
I smoked and loved it--things I LOVED above smoking:

1. the physical sensation
2. the associated rituals (e.g., packing the pack against the my hand, unwrapping the pack, pulling off the foil, pulling out the first cig)
3. watching and playing with, and the expressiveness of, the smoke
4. cigarette-as-prop and gesticulation enhancer
5. the "cool" and diablerie of smoking
6. the sound of a cigarette, as it was being lit
7. the social aspects, smoking with other smokers---enjoying a smoke together
8. the intimacy shared around smoking (someone lighting your cigarette can be as tender as someone moving the hair away from your face).
9. and more...

Quitting when the time is right -- being honest about that
When people would ask whether I would quit I'd always say: "I will when I'm ready."

Universally, people didn't believe me. They'd laugh: "I've heard THAT one before," or "You'll NEVER be ready," "You have to MAKE yourself," or "That's the addiction talking."

But I knew I'd know when the time was drawing nigh.  And I did.


When I knew it was time
It was a heartbreaking realization. I wasn't sad that my lungs were beginning to hurt and not recover after a few hours of being up---I was just sad that that meant I would have to stop, because I knew I didn't want to die of lung disease, and that if my lungs hurt a lot it meant that I would have to pull the plug soon.

Which pissed me off. After all, I'd given up drinking 13 years prior. And that was no stone soul picnic.

My last vestige of cool, I thought, would be gone. And I would be a goody-2-shoes. (And THAT, I can tell you, IS the addiction talking.)


The reality of loss...
Quitting smoking is like "quitting" a person.  It is like a break-up that you initiate with someone you love and really enjoy hanging with, and who's been with you on many adventures--through thick and thin--but you know it isn't working for you anymore.


So once you know...then what?
Once I knew rationally that I would need to quit I started the steps toward quitting....and quit within 2-3 weeks. That last day was: October 20, 2005.

 I used what maybe what I would call the Mindfulness Approach---I've not seen or heard of this before---and am pretty sure I made it up.

Basically, it entails the following...

Allowing yourself to smoke as much as you want--no holds barred---but:

 (1) asking yourself before each cig, "Do I really want this cigarette?"

(2) after the cig, asking yourself "Did that cigarette live up my to expectations of how satisfying/enjoyable I imagined it would be?"

(3) when you smoke your Last Cigarette of the Day--name it that, as you smoke it;  and the next morning asking yourself when you first wake up: "Would my life had been WORSE without that last cigarette?"

(4) and at that same time asking yourself "Do I wish I'd smoked another cigarette last night?"

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It is exactly that tedious -- and that simple.  As they say, Simple Isn't Easy.
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What you start to see--if you are scathingly, brutally honest with yourself--is....

 (1) you ALWAYS answer YES you do always want the cig (which is fine)

 (2) but 99% of the time, NO, it did NOT live up to your expectations

(3) and you NEVER answer YES, that your life would have been worse without that final cigarette of the night

(4) and, no, you NEVER wish you had smoked another

What does that do...?
The process is completely illusion-crushing. It is truly heartbreaking---because, like that relationship with the person you loved and had so many adventures with....actually, you start realizing, a lot of the time it kinda actually sucked, or wasn't as great as you wanted it to be---wished it would be.

So that's it? What's the catch?
Most people say it's too hard--and they cannot be that relentless. But it worked for me.

What it's been like...
Simply put...there's not ONE day--of these roughly 3,000 days--that I looked back on the the day wishing that I had smoked.  This is a no-regret act.

In a couple/few months my lungs cleared. I felt better. I could run up stairs without getting winded. I've gotten exactly 8 colds or sinus infections in 8 years, and they didn't last very long--vs. sometimes months of "that thing everyone's got right now." Never again bronchitis.

But how deal with the initial withdrawal etc...
I figured a way around the "cravings."  I realized, for me at least, cravings were actually flare-ups of anxiety that I'd been covering up or staving off for 25 years by grabbing a smoke.

I realized that the horrible, gnawing/world-is-going-to-end feeling passed fairly quickly then I acknowledged what the feeling was, and that I was feeling it, and breathed through it, and reminded myself that this would pass pretty quickly.  AND I would remind myself if need-be that a cigarette wouldn't help, because I'd already proven irrefutably to myself over and over and OVER again for 21 days, that it never---not goddamned ONCE, unfortunately---was as good as I anticipated.

And if I could go walk around and breathe, even a little bit, it would pass---reminding myself this was a good thing to be doing and in a while I wouldn't get these "cravings" anymore if I hung in there.

anecdote: when I almost quit quitting
In November 2005, still very vulnerably in the land of non-smoking, I had a job interview at LL Bean. There were not all that many world-class employers in Maine, where I'd recently relocated.  Beans was the cream of the crop for me.  I'd been through maybe 6 interviews, over 2-3 days, and this last one was a series of pow-wows and interviews over an entire 1/2 day, with the teams---topped off by meeting the VP of that division. All had gone brilliantly--we were talking about benefits and start date. Then I met the VP. 

I will never know what happened.  But it was the worst job interview--and one of the worst human encounters--I've ever had, to this day.  It seemed like this woman despised me from the moment I walked into her office. Even before. She kept me waiting. And waiting in a vestibule. She didn't turn around then I came in.  And then left me sitting in front of her desk, while she finished an email, barely meeting my eyes the whole interview.  Her questions were confrontational and brusque to the extreme. She said odd things. She frowned at my attempts at humor, and looked at me as if I'd spilled tuna salad down my front. Downright hostile. I was flummoxed. When we finished it was late, people had gone home. She didn't even walk me out.  It was dark and frosty as I drove back to Portland from Freeport. I knew I wouldn't be working for LL Bean after that experience.

I really bawled my head off, as I drove home. Then thought: "HEY! Pull off the next Exit and buy a pack of Camel Filters---good old Camel Filters---you can smoke the whole thing up! Just DO it! You know it will make you feel better!" 

And, thankfully, there wasn't an Exit for some miles, I pulled my own ass into stir, and said: "If you HONESTLY believe smoking a pack of Camel Filters will make this situation feel better, then you can do it. but you have to fully think it through!"

And so....darn that honesty!  I thought "How will you feel tomorrow, having smoked a whole pack of Camel Filters---ON TOP OF having somehow fucked up the LL Bean interview?"  And I knew I'd feel worse. Like a 2-strikes failure. And I didn't want that.  Dealing with whatever had just gone down would be enough!

Then asked myself: "What are you feeling?"  Realized it was terror--and asked myself what I was afraid of---and how realistic is the fear?  I wish I could say If only you face the thing you fear, you'll realize it's not real. 

But no.  

I was terrified that if I was correct and something dreadful had, in fact, just happened at LL Bean: (1) I would probably never find out what it was (I hate not knowing/understanding things), and (2) I had no idea what I would do now, professionally, since, really, this was my only option in the state.  (And it truly was.)

Then asked myself----"Well, if those things are true--will it make it better also to be a smoker?"  And I had to concede No.

That was my last real struggle. Having turned down that "comfort"---by knowing it would be less a comfort than a real detriment---it made me stronger, and easier to not think of turning to Camel Filters when things got hinky.
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As said, no one I've ever met has wanted to try this approach. I think because it's too work-intensive. But if you're interested, or if you try it and it works and want to share, please let me know.

Good luck!  Be gentle but honest with yourself!

And thanks, Universe, for freeing me from those illusions and making me a healthier person!