Lately, I’ve been thinking back on one of my failed quits from years ago. It lasted all of 4 days (or 8 days, or 11 days, depending on if you use “weird math” or not).
Anyway, I was incredibly serious about quitting at that time, and I had been truly excited to be smoke-free for a few days. I was determined to do it! But, you see, I hit a sharp “urge” on the fourth morning. I felt as if I were “going crazy” for “just one cigarette”. I felt like I just needed a little “ push” to get me over the hump. A little “ oomph” to get me out of the rut. Just a few puffs to break the stress of the fixation. To not feel so freaked out. A little " hit" to feel normal again, so I could get back to the intent of my quit.
So, I bought a pack, and I smoked two individual cigarettes. Then, I quickly dumped the rest in the toilet, flushed them down into the sewer, and felt…so much better! The “crazies” were gone! And, I was so incredibly proud of myself for drowning the other 18 cigarettes. My head was clear, the stress was gone, and I was keenly focused right back on my quit for the rest of that day and night.
That next morning, I woke up, stretched, and I said to myself, “Here we go! Day 5!”
But, it wasn‘t. All that day, no matter how many times I whispered “5” to myself, it simply wasn’t… correct. I had screwed up - yet again! - and I knew it. I could feel it.
My quit had been…cracked. Like a porcelain vase that had been dropped and broken.
But, listen, yet another failure was going to seriously whip my ego, and I wasn’t ready to accept defeat. So, I scrambled to slather my chipped reality with coats of denial and bargaining: the spackle and glue of the active addict. I quickly stuck the fragments back together, with the jagged seams turned toward the wall, hidden, and the “better” side facing out. It would basically still look the same!
But, it would never actually be the same.
Worse, it might or might not ever hold water again.
Yes, I had done it. I had cracked it.
But, I told myself, “Okay, okay…so, it just turns out that what you are really ready for at this point in life is a ‘smoking modification‘. Yes, that’s it! You had no way of knowing it, but your quit date actually marked the day when you began the process of redefining your smoking habit. Yes, that’s right! Now, from this moment forward, you will swear to only allow yourself to smoke every 4th day. That’s an incredible shift from 20 cigarettes every day! That would be… monumental!”
Let me tell you, I was thrilled to take control, and to dictate my smoking by my new terms. It was nothing short of a revolution!
So, on the morning of Day 8, I leaped out of bed, raced to the store, bought a pack of menthols, and slowly smoked 2 cigarettes, along with a mug of special Viennese coffee that I had bought specifically as a reward for being so incredibly clever.
I…was…victorious! I was winning!
After I smoked, I marched the other 18 cigarettes to the bathroom, stood in front of the toilet, lifted the lid…and slipped one little additional cigarette out the pack. You know, just a little something extra for after dinner that evening.
Just one.
<drip>
Well, “Day 9” arrived, and I was starting to itch for Day 12 to hurry up and come.
<drip…drip… drip>
“Day 10”, and I was starting to feel crazy for a smoke.
< drip drip drip drip drip drip>
“Day 11“ arrived, and I was puffing my brains out in a mentholated haze.
< smash!>
My fractured little vase just couldn’t hold the water.
Look, once you’ve created your precious quit, protect it! Treasure it! Honor it! Keep it whole! It’s so unique and special - like you! It’ll never be the same again once you drop it and kick it and crack it. And every time you try to cheat the rules of addiction, your reality chips and fragments and diminishes into smaller pieces…and there’s only so much that the glue and spackle can clump together.
Get it right and keep it right! (I finally did; you can, too.)
STORM: 416
