Things I Wish I'd Known (A Tale of Two Quits)

[Cimmerians]

I quit smoking for the first time in 2010. I stayed quit for three years. It was the worst three years of my life, and when I started smoking again I promised myself I would never put myself through that again. 

BUT.

Of all things, I came across a post in a forum where I was looking for resources for one of my young counseling clients who wanted to quit smoking--a forum mostly of young people dealing with smoking/vaping addiction--and I read a post there by someone (15 years old) who had quit and had the same awful experience I had, but then tried again with NRT and buproprion--and had a much, much better experience. And there were a bunch of young people chiming in and saying 'oh yeah me too', and I thought: hm.

So I'm writing this, nearly a month into my second-ever time quitting, in case this information is useful to anyone else--because the way this has gone this time, I wish I'd done this DECADES ago.

Everyone's addiction and experience of addiction (physically, mentally, and emotionally) is going to be different, of course--but I wanted to share how it was for me, because if this can help even one person, it would make my whole year.

My first quit:

I reduced my smoking gradually (10 per day for a week, then 9 per day for a week, and so on). When I got down to 1 per day I wasn't ready to let go after a week, so I gave myself three weeks--and then I stopped. I also quit coffee, since coffee was a huge smoking trigger for me. And I really expected, having smoked so little for three full weeks, that stopping altogether would be a tiny step. And it was. Until three days in--and then I got brain fog and aphasia so bad that I could barely speak, and had to work 80-hour weeks to complete work I used to be able to complete in 40 hours. Complete mental stultification. Also, joy exited my life entirely. Everything in my life that I ever took joy in was just... blank. It existed, but I had no experience of gladness or happiness around it. Everything was just. Gray and awful and impossible to think and impossible to communicate--and the only thing in my life that stood out at all, was the craving to smoke.

I don't drink (because I come from a family of raging alcoholics), but because of that I know quite a bit about alcoholism and sobriety. And with alcoholism, there is a massive difference between 'not drinking' and 'being sober'. And as it turns out, the same concept applies to nicotine addiction--I was certainly not smoking, but I was not anywhere near 'smobriety'. I spent three years hanging on only through sheer fury and determination--and not one day of that entire three year span was free of craving. Also, my brain fog and mental issues continued; my complete lack of joy in anything continued. I got angrier as time went on--because it was supposed to get better, wasn't it?

In the end I started smoking again. Very limited amounts at first, but that grew slowly until I was back up to my customary 10-cigs-per-day (more on really bad days); and as the fog cleared and my life returned to my version of normal, I promised myself that I'd never do that again--there was no way it was worth it.

And I probably would have kept that promise, if I hadn't found someone saying 'doing it this other way is so much better'--but I did, so I decided to give it a shot. Absolutely TERRIFIED that I was about to destroy my life all over again, but very determined to try it and see.

My second quit:

My quit date was three months out, because I wanted to take a week fully off of work from all three of my jobs (two of them are very stressful/high pressure), and it took that long to arrange that--but I did. A weekend and a week and another weekend--nine days where my sole job would be to not smoke. I got NRT, and a prescription for buproprion. I didn't cut down in advance, but went cold-turkey on my quit date. I did not give up coffee, but I cut my consumption to one cup a day.

One more thing: I have complex PTSD and some pretty serious issues with compartmentalization, so psychologically speaking I'm basically three toddlers in a trenchcoat. And because my first quit experience had been so harrowing, I made my mental health a priority the second time around. 

The first day was horrible. It seemed like an insurmountable challenge. The second day didn't get better--because I was living in dread of day three, when I was afraid my brain would collapse on me.

But that... didn't happen. At all. No brain fog. None. And yes, I was having cravings, but they weren't like they had been before, where it felt like torture that never ever stopped--it was just. a craving. and I did something else or had some water or ate one of the mints that I always had post-smoke, and I would forget about it until the next craving hit. So It wasn't fun, but it didn't destroy my entire life. I was so glad, and so grateful, for this different experience.

As for joy: thanks to my ability to compartmentalize and my hyperfocus on mental health this time around, I was able to observe my mental processes in a very detached, non-judgmental way--and what I saw, when I paid attention without interfering, was that my inner addict was systematically attacking everything in my life that made me happy. Relentlessly. Viciously. Furiously. Dismantling and destroying any happiness that came from anything in my life--because my inner addict knew that taking away all joy would get me to smoke again, would get me to give in. And I'm pretty sure that's why I went through three years of hell where nothing ever got better the first time around. Because as fierce and determined a person as I am, my addiction is equally so.

But: seeing this clearly, understanding it, made a huge difference. Because for the first week of my quit, I relentlessly focused on, was mindful of, and immersed myself intentionally in joy: I paid close attention to it, I made sure that I relished every moment. For me, joy comes in cooking, eating delicious healthy food, walking, dancing, petting my cats, being out in nature, writing, helping and contributing to the well-being of others, and many other things--I did all of them, I paid attention, and it actually worked. My inner addict was not able to rob me of joy. Which was such an incredible game-changer!

By the end of week one, I felt deeply attached to my quit, glad of it, grateful for it, and determined to never give it up or put it at risk. The parts of my body that were harmed by smoking felt like they were under my personal protection--and a huge part of my personality is about protecting the vulnerable and the traumatized. That desire to protect has never failed me--and now I'm part of what I protect, which means so very much to me.

I'm close to 30 days in and I know there are challenges ahead--some I expect, some I probably don't--but oh my goodness, this is just SO DIFFERENT from how it was my first time, there is no comparison, and I truly wish I had tried this method decades ago. I wanted to write this because writing is how I contextualize things, but I decided to share it because it's possible this could help somebody else, someone who tried to quit before and is scared to try again--and if I can help even a single person, I will be glad and grateful for the opportunity.

I can't thank everyone here enough for the strength, knowledge, and compassion you all have shared with me. Even though this second time has been immeasurably better, it has been no cakewalk--and your support has been invaluable. Thank you for the time and care you put into this work, this community--you made a huge difference in my life, and I thank you from my heart.