I am really impressed with you quitters. My parents both were 40+ year smokers until my Mom was diagnosed with emphysema. Mom quit then, but Dad still went outside to smoke. After about a year of that, he quit, too. They were miserable for about a week and then intermittently grumpy for another month. 2 of my 4 brothers also smoked and though one quit, the other still smokes. They all told me how difficult it was to quit. I’m just lucky smoking (cigarettes) never appealed to me.
Mom died of emphysema-related illness 7 years ago.
I have to say, I had no idea how much I would miss the actual act of smoking. The patch goes a long way towards easing physical withdrawal, but I swear, every five seconds, all I hear in my head is “Man, a cigarette would be really nice right now.”
I guess it’s years of habit, and probably some sort of psychological connection between picking up a cigarette and feeling better, but it’s a hard, hard thing to break. I feel mostly okay, no real headaches or jitteryness or testyness but…
I often wonder about that. I think it’s down to relative nicotine levels in the old days (though no cite to back that up).
My grandfather did some budgeting when my grandmother was pregnant with my mother in the early '40s. “We can’t afford for us both to smoke. Do you want to quit?” “No,” said my pregnant grandmother, puffing away. “OK, I will,” he said, and did, just like that. He died last year aged 91.
My other grandmother had 'flu one day in the '70s. She ran out of cigarettes and was putting her coat on over her robe and pajamas to walk to the store. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. “This is ridiculous,” she thought, took her coat off, and never smoked again.
The last time I tried to quit, I went beyond “cranky” into something I’d only be able to describe as “near-psychotic anger”. I was so insanely angry that I broke up with my wife, though that night I started smoking again, and the next day we got back together.
OK I am feeling seriously weak right now… The store is calling me name, promising all sorts of sweet pleasure if I just get in the car and take a quick ride…
It’s been 18 days for me now. I can’t necessarily recommend my method of quitting to anyone, though…developing severe cellulitis and having to be in the hospital for two weeks isn’t something you just go out and do to quit smoking. But damn, did it help!
I’ve been going through sour worms like they’re water… They help a little.
SPeaking of cleaning the bathroom, with all this nervous energy, I’m actually getting quite a bit done around the house. When the housekeeper comes on Wednesday, she’s gonna think I hired someone else behind her back!
Think of how many days of juicy suffering will be wasted if you give in now :D. It does get easier, if you can hang on for a few more days - must be Day 11 for me now {I’ve lost count, which must be a good sign}, and go long periods without even thinking of a smoke, even when I’m round other smokers or have had a beer. A few “phantom limb” twinges in the evening, when I used to smoke the most, but that’s when I’m least occupied: when I’m doing something, smoking doesn’t really cross my mind - I think I’ve broken the “habitual” part.
Man, this weekend has been both good and bad. Good because yesterday I went a few hours without thinking about a smoke, which was the first since Casemade me endure this torture. But it was bad in that I’ve had some major cravings. I’m having one now, and the almonds are doing shit. The raisins are doing shit, and the cinnamon sticks are doing shit. Typing that out helped.
Regardless, I’ve gone too far to back out now. Pretty soon I’ll be hitting my one week mark. So, it’s onward we march. Plus, I’ve started to think of the future as being a ex-smoker. The money saved, and telling those who always urged me to quit that I have quit. I look forward to that moment. I do think it’s for life this time.
And then there’s times I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m too stubborn to back out, but I know the smokes are there in drawer in case the shit hits the fan, but I’ll be terribly disappointed in myself if I take one.
Heh heh. Why suffer alone when you can drag others down with you? Hang in there, mate: the first week was the hardest for me - after that it seemed to get a lot easier. Bar a few relapses into surliness, I’m not nearly as ill-tempered as I was this time seven days ago - and compared to earlier abortive attempts to quit, when I’d still be yearning for a smoke, this time I don’t want one anymore. Well, my habit still does from time to time, but that bitch will damn well do as it’s told this from now on. I’m running this body now.
Yeah, in a couple of months or so I’ll thank you, but since I’m not out of the woods yet, I won’t even think about celebrating. Oh, and since I’m still going through that last craving, you’re essentially the devil right now.
Anyway, I just ordered a pizza and the order taker had to pause a few times for these awful coughing fits. She could have been sick, but I’m familar with those fit from being a smoker, and if we make this then there’ll be no more of those for us.
Today was a much better day. I didn’t think about cigarettes nearly as much as I did yesterday - but the times I did think about them were loud, insistent times full of self-debate. But at least it wasn’t as constant. I think tomorrow will be even better. I just want to get past the point where I think “Oh screw it, I’ll just go to the store and buy some.”
One difficult part is the situations I find myself avoiding because of the smoking quotient. I was at the store the other day, and I figured I’d go have a capuccino at the little cafe. Halfway there, I remembered that the only decent place to sit there is in the smoking section… So I didn’t go, because I knew that if I did, I’d have bought a pack of cigarettes in a heartbeat. The big test will be when I go to the TV studio next month - the publicity woman that I’ll be spending the day with is a smoker. Hell, it’s how we got to know each other. If I can make it through that without smoking, I’ll be doing very well.
(Babble, babble, babble)
Two years, five months, three days, 20 hours, 1 minute and 0 seconds. 22195 cigarettes not smoked, saving $3,107.56. Life saved: 11 weeks, 1 hour, 35 minutes.
Hang in there, guys: once you clear a week or so, it does get easier. By a bizarre act of anti-serendipity, my wife received a care package from her mother in Japan yesterday - only this one contained two cartons of Mild Sevens, my brand in Japan. I carefully took the little fuckers out into the back garden, fetched my air pistol {a rather nice pneumatic Benjamin Sheridan HB22, with walnut grips and forearm}, and SHOT THE SHIT OUT OF FOUR HUNDRED CIGARETTES! BWAHAHAHAHAHOOHA! Sneaky little bastards tryin’a give theyselves away now, all wrapped nice an’ everything. Ain’t goin’ out like that.
TMINC, Sgt. Pepper, Frank - kia kaha. {that’s Maori for “Stand strong”} Johnny LA, you still with us?
Yeah, it does get easier after a week. Sunday night I had a pretty bad craving, then yesterday I didn’t really think of smoking much. It was kind of a relief. Same with this morning, no urge to light up while I had my morning coffee. I haven’t reached the Holy Jihad against Cigarettes stage that Case has reached, but good to know that it’s just around the corning.
TMINC, Frank, you two! Keep strong and keep going. You can do it. Johnny too, if your still clean. Case has this licked, and has paved the way for us.
I have now been smokeless for over a fortnight, and the urge to smoke is a memory which fades by the day: I don’t want to smoke any more. I’m really proud of myself.