This is Kentucky. Tobacco Country. A lot of the people I grew up with made money in the Summers harvesting and stripping tobacco. We have a greater percentage of smokers here than anywhere else in the nation. Smoking is almost still “cool” here.
So, back in 200X, I was developing a major crush on Roma. She was in a desperate relationship with a Ex-Convict and seeking company, so she would ask me to go on smoke breaks with her.
At first, I just talked with her while she smoked. Then she started offering me cigarettes. I had smoked one with Ned on a couple of occasions we were getting high, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt. Of course you know what happened. Soon I was smoking Roma’s cigarettes every time she went out, and it wasn’t long before, you guessed it, I bought a pack of my own.
Stupid decision. Incredibly stupid decision. Possibly the stupidest decision I ever made. I had resented my Dad for succumbing to similar instances of infatuation-related peer pressure my whole life, and here I was making the exact same mistake he did. When Jed read this blog, he said that I should have put this day as the worst day of my life, instead of the day I got arrested.
Flash forward one mental breakdown and a half-decade or so, and cigarettes had completely taken over my life. I was smoking two-and-a-half to three packs a day, going out every 20 minutes (at least) and, whenever I got to talking on the phone (which was often) or hanging out with a friend outside (which was rarer), I would chain smoke one right after the other.
I loved smoking. I bought multiple brands in multiple packs so I could try different ones. I bought them a carton at a time. Erin told me at one point she sincerely believed that cigarettes were the only thing left in my life that I actually cared about. I even had them wrapped into my identity, in my own mind I was “caco, the Self-Destructive Crazy Chain Smoker.”
This identity was only confirmed when I read about smoking rates among schizoid populations. They’re astronomical, at about 80% or so. (I suppose that’s one of the reasons almost every homeless person will hit you up for a cigarette.) And the quit rates were terrible: something like less than 5% of the schizoid subjects studied were able to quit smoking for a period of six months. Good Lord! I thought. If they can’t even quit smoking for 6 months, what hope do I have? Smoking is a permanent part of my life.
Nevertheless, I resented the money I spent on it and the time it took out of my day, so I had many quit attempts over the years, possibly as many as two dozen. Each one lasted mere hours as I quickly caved and smoked the nearest cigarette I could get my hands on.
One particular, humorous quit attempt occurred when I lived with Delbert. I smoked the last of my cigarettes and told him, “This is it, man, I’m going to try to quit smoking from now on.” And Delbert responded in a nonchalant manner, “Okay man, that’s cool.” The night wore on and Delbert kinda settled in for the evening with a few brews. I grew antsier and antsier to smoke.
Finally I broke down and started begging him to take me to get some cigarettes. He said, “I can’t, caco, I’ve been drinking.” And I said, “Come on, man, you’ve only had a couple and the gas station is just down the street.” (It was the middle of the night, or I would have walked.) He maintained that he wouldn’t, and offered, “You can take my car if you want. Here are the keys.”
Now, I am a terrible driver. My friends all think I should never drive again. Most of them have been terrified riding with me before. When I had a car, I crashed it about four times within six months. Nevertheless, I slid the key in the ignition of Delbert’s car and attempted to drive myself to the corner gas station.
I ended up in the ditch before I even got out of the driveway. I went back in and explained to Delbert what had happened and he couldn’t believe it. I re-iterated my request to take me to get cigarettes and, after he saw the car and what he had to do to get it back on the road, agreed to pay for a cab instead. Once I got back with the cigarettes and took my first drag, I sighed a big sigh of relief and exclaimed, “Ahhh, sweet Balm of Gilead!”
Anyway, as you may or may not know, shortly after Obama went into office they raised the taxes on cigarettes by about a dollar a pack. My favorite past-time was now costing me around $250 – $300 a month, depending on how heavily I smoked. I got to where I just couldn’t sustain it anymore. Somehow, however, I managed to scrape by.
I was complaining about the cost of cigarettes to my Cousin one day on the phone and she said, “caco, you should roll your own cigarettes like I do. It’s a fraction of the cost and it only takes a few seconds to roll each one.” So I looked into it. I bought a bag of tobacco and a little plastic rolling machine and some paper, filtered cigarette tubes. It was a little tricky at first until somebody more intuitive than me showed me how to do it, but I finally got into rolling my own cigarettes hard-core.
Paradoxically, this would ultimately be the last straw. You see, while I was now spending only $90 a month on cigarettes, I was spending an hour and a half a day rolling enough to last me until the next day. I had to have large quantities on hand in case I went anywhere, or in case of long telephone conversations. I would absolutely freak out if I was running low and something came up. I got to where I was regularly turning down invites to Town because I didn’t have enough cigarettes rolled. And on a couple of occasions I ruined a few peoples’ night by insisting they run me to get a quick pack from a gas station, just in case.
Here is where I seriously began to resent cigarettes. I began to think about another Quit Attempt. This time, I felt, I had the motivation. I seriously hated being such a slave to these things. And, I read a book. Allen Carr’s “EASYWAY to Stop Smoking.” Now this book is a major gimmick. It promises to help you quit without withdrawals, which is impossible. However, it is an excellent form of self-applied Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy, which helps you to think differently about cigarettes. It basically convinces you that everything positive you get from smoking is actually a negative, and that you are deluding yourself. And it does to in a repetitive, suggestive way that worms its way into your Subconscious much like Hypnosis. The guy who wrote it smoked about 200 cigarettes a day for like 40 years and quit Cold Turkey, so it’s no wonder it’s so effective.
The first time I read the book, I felt it was hogwash, because I knew I enjoyed smoking and nothing could take that away from me. However, the second time I read it, when I truly wanted to quit, I realized that what Carr was saying was right. However, I knew I couldn’t quit cold turkey with sheer glee like he recommends. I knew I would need assistance.
Nicotine Patches had helped me in previous Quit Attempts. I had lasted as long as five days before without smoking, while wearing them. That was the most success I had ever had. So, I decided to try them again, and I boosted myself a little bit with some brief counseling over the quit line 1-800-QUIT-NOW. The quit line was mostly bullshit, but it did help me organize my thoughts a bit on the subject of quitting, as well as keep my motivation up.
So I slapped my first patch on and began my horrible journey. I lasted five days with no major incidents, but once again on day five I gave in. I grabbed the phone and started to call a cab to drive me some place to buy cigarettes. However, before I could even call them, Bill (my room-mate at the time) stole my wallet right out from under me, making it impossible for me to buy anything. He hid the wallet from me, and I was infuriated. How could he impose upon me like this, taking away my right as an adult man to make my own decisions!
I was determined to start smoking again. So I stealthily searched Bill’s discarded clothing and found my wallet in his pants pocket. I took it upstairs with me and laid it under my pillow where he couldn’t get it again. And I waited for him to go to sleep, so I could prove to him that I would do whatever I wanted.
Well, after a little bit of thought, I got up and started reading Quit Smoking Testimonials on EASYWAY’S unofficial Subreddit. These gave me newfound motivation to quit, and I returned the wallet to Bill, telling him I had no more desire to smoke. He said good, then he didn’t need to hang on to the wallet anymore. I told him to keep it until tomorrow, just in case.
After that I had no further problems. I went for the entire six week Patch Regimen without any serious cravings at all. It was shocking. I didn’t even have problems “stepping down” to a lower dose of the patch, or going off them completely. I was cured! I almost think there was some Mysterious Force helping me, since I didn’t have the constant cravings I always did on previous Quit Attempts. Who knows.
Anyway, last July 2nd, I celebrated my full year having quit. I went to KY’s Butt-Rubbin’ BBQ with my brother, his fiancé, and my close friend Jed. I had some decent BBQ ribs and chicken. It was a good time, and I’m very glad to have quit. I like to joke sometimes that I miss smoking, and I make little cracks about loving the smell of second-hand smoke, but I really have no desire to go back to that terrible habit.
So, that’s the story of my greatest triumph to date. I figured I (and you) needed it after the incredible negativity displayed in this Journal to date.