GUS (Gave Up Smoking) is a community support diary for Kossacks in the midst of quitting smoking. Any supportive comments, suggestions or positive distractions are appreciated. We avoid discussion of political issues. If you are quitting or even thinking about quitting, please -- join us! GUS Library at dKosopedia is organically evolving, and stocked with free-range information: quit-smoking links, helpful GUS diary writing tips, and the GUS Buddy List.
Buddy list:
1BQ, 3rdGenFeminist, Abra Crabcakeya, Actbriniel, addisnana, AfroPonix, aishmael, Alise, Alpha99, A Man Called Gloom, ambeeeant, American in Kathmandu, amk for obama, andsarahtoo, angry marmot, Anne933, anodnhajo, aoeu, aquarius2001, arcadesproject, Archie2227, arodb, Arthur Wolf (in memoriam), assyrian64, awkawk, b4uknowit, bamablue, BARAKABETH, barnowl, b barrie, bdizz, beatpanda, beefydaddy18, BFSkinner, bgblcklab1, BigAlinWashSt, Bike Crash, BirderWitch, BJKay, bleeding heart, blingbling65, blue husky, Blue Intrigue, bluedust, BluejayRN, BlueJessamine, Bluerall, bluestatedem84, BoiseBlue, boudi08, Brahman Colorado, breedlovinit, BrenP, Bronxist, BrowniesAreGood, bsmechanic, buddabelly, bumbi, BusyinCA, Carol in San Antonio, CathiefromCanada, CathodeRay, CDH in Brooklyn, cee4, Cen Den, ChiTownDenny, ChocolateChris, ChurchofBruce, ciganka, cinnamondog, citizenx, ClapClapSnap, Cleante, Code Monkey, codobus, Coldblue Steele, Colorado is the Shiznit, coloradomomma, common green, commonmass, Common Sense Mainer, congenitalefty, coppercelt, dadanation, dangoch, DarienComp, dauber, Dauphin, Dave in AZ, Dave in Northridge, deedogg, demkat620, Dexter, Diana in NoVa, Dickie, DiegoUK, Dingodude, dirtdude, distraught, djMikulec, dolfin66, donnamarie, Donna O, dotsright, DRo, droogie6655321, Dube, duckhunter, Eclectablog, Eddie C, EdgedInBlue, effervescent, elbamash, El barragas, el vasco, ericlewis0, Everest42, Ex Con, ezdidit, fhamme, Fineena, fiona2, fishhawk, Flea, flumptytail, Friend of the court, fritzi56, FrugalGranny, Garrett, Gator, gchaucer2, GDbot, Geiiga, GenXangster, glpaul, gooderservice, gooners, gravlax, greylox, grndrush (in memoriam), GrumpyWarriorPoet, gzodik, Haole in Hawaii, HappyinNM, henlesloop, HeyMikey, hideinplainsight, High Tide, hiliner68, hold tight, hulibow, I love OCD, Im a frayed knot, imisa, Indexer, indubitably, indyada, Interceptor7, Inventor, I said GOOD DAY sir, itsbenj, Jahiz, JamesEB, janl1776, Janeo, JayinPortland, jayjaybear, jbou, Jeffersonian Democrat, jmadlc55, jmonch, Joes Steven (aka Steven), john07801, johngoes, johnny wurster, jsfox, JVolvo's Mom, jwinIL14, Kai99, kailuacaton, Kamakhya, kat herder, Kelly of PA, kestrel9000, khloemi, Khun David, Kitsap River, kittania, KrazyKitten, Kristina40, Ksholl, labwitchy, Lady Kestrel, ladypockt, Lahdee, langerdang, LarsThorwald, LA rupert, last starfighter, LaughingPlanet, Laurie Gator, Lipstick Liberal, litoralis, lmdonovan, lockewasright, Lonely Texan, longislandny, luvsathoroughbred, maggiemay, magicsister, mango, Marc in KS, Marjmar, Mark E Andersen (Kodiak54), marknspokane, marsanges, maryabein, Matt Esler, mdemploi, Meteor Blades, Micburke, michael1104, MillieNeon, minerva1157, MinervainNH, Missys Brother, mjbleo, MnRaindog, mntleo2, Morague, Mr Bojangles, mrsgoo, mskitty, msmacgyver, MsWings, Murphoney, nannyboyz, ncsuLAN, NearlyNormal, Nedsdag, Nick Zouroudis, notgivingup, NY brit expat, OleHippieChick, one pissed off democrat, Onomastic, operculum, OrangeMike, Ordvefa, Overseas, Over the Edge, Pager, paige, PaintyKat, paradox, parryander, paulitics, Pennsylvanian, phrogge prince, Positronicus, post rational, PowWowPollock, Proud Mom and Grandma, psycho liberal, ptolemynm, Purple Priestess, PvtJarHead, racheltracks, randallt, ray bob, real world chick, red mittens, Reepicheep, regis, relentless, revelwoodie, revsue, Rex Manning, rexymeteorite, RiaD, rickeagle, ridemybike, rightiswrong, Rileycat, rincewind, rkex, roadlion, Roger Fox, Rosebuddear, roses, rscopes, Rudini, Safina, SallyCat, Sanuk, Sark Svemes, sboucher, scooter in brooklyn, Scrapyard Ape, seenaymah, sfbob, sgary, Shahryar, sheddhead, shesaid, Shifty18, shmuelman, shopkeeper, sidious666, slowbutsure, smartcookienyc, smeesq, Smoh, snoopydawg, snorwich, SnyperKitty, SoCalHobbit, sofia, soonergrunt, sostos, sowsearsoup, SpecialKinFlag, spmozart, spotDawa, SpotTheCat, StateOfGrace, Statusquomustgo, stiffneck, sunbro, Super Grover, Syoho, tallmom, Tay, tdslf1, teknospaz, theatre goon, The Eyewitness Muse, TheGeneral, TheStoopingRabbit, TigerMom, Tim DeLaney, tiredofcrap, TomP, tonyahky, Toyotabob7, TreeFrog, triciawyse, tripodisblack, trs, trueblueliberal, ttanner, Tulsonian, Turn VABlue, Turtle Bay, Tyto Alba, uc booker, UncleCharlie, Unduna, Unforgiven, ursoklevar, USArmyParatrooper, VA02 femocrat, Vacationland, valadon, Vayle, Vetwife, vgranucci, Village expects idiot home soon, waytac, webranding, weelzup, Wes Opinion, Whimsical Rapscallion, willy be frantic, willy mugobeer, Wood Dragon, wolfie1818, Wordsinthewind, Wreck Smurfy, x, xopher, yet another liberal, Zotz
Have you had some experience with the effects of smoking, and want to write a GUS diary or host an open thread? Please sign up in the Butt Can (Tip Jar), and name the day and time that works for you (AM, PM, late-night, early-bird...) Click on the link to learn how to write a GUS diary the easy way.
Weekly GUS Diary Schedule
Sun PM: Tim DeLaney (That's today)
Mon AM: Open
Mon PM: Vacationland
Tues AM: gchaucer2
Tue PM: Open
Wed AM: labwitchy!!<---all right!
Wed PM: FrugalGranny (love this) (YEA!)
Thu AM: Open
Thu PM: Open
Fri AM: flumptytail
Fri PM: Open
Sat AM: effervescent
Sat PM: Open
Sun AM: Open
Sun PM: Open
PLUS!! Coming Attraction: GUS 3-Year Anniversary!! FRIDAY 6/15/12!.
.
In early October 1993 I quit smoking. I had smoked about a pack and a half a day for over 40 years. I didn't use a patch or gum; I didn't taper off, I just quit. I haven't smoked since.
The method I am about to recommend might not work for everybody, and by no means do I think it's the One True Path. However, if your first reaction is "Scary", then it might be for you. You should be scared; your life is at stake.
The rest of this diary is a sermon -- a long sermon. Personally, I don't like to be on the receiving end of sermons, but here I am giving one. I have said elsewhere that if I am instrumental in just one Kossack's successful quit it will have been worth the work. If you want, you can just hang out and skip the sermon. Or ...
I am no great paragon of willpower, nor do I have any special mental toughness. What I had back in 1993 was a special set of circumstances. My mother, who had smoked almost all her life, got cancer. It was an abdominal tumor that almost certainly was caused by smoking. At 77, she was facing the last few days or weeks of her life. She had quit smoking before being diagnosed, but it was way too late.
At the time, I was living and working in Indiana, and she was living in northern California. My two youngest sisters lived nearby, and one of them called me to tell me that it was time for me to pay a visit. Of course, we arranged for the next flight we could get. Mom, on a previous visit, had already told me she wanted me to quit and while waiting for the taxi to take us to the airport, I went out into the garage for a final smoke. I knew it would be my last.
We visited for about a week. I endured the symptoms of withdrawal surrounded by people I loved, and who loved me. It was both a solemn and a joyous occasion. None of us brooded over her impending death, least of all her. She accepted it as a matter of fact without any apparent trace of regret or fear.
A minor part of the story of that week was my quit. My youngest sister is a health care professional, and she gave me a treatment that she said would help me quit. To say that I was a skeptic is to understate my attitude, but I knew that after that treatment I could never allow myself to relapse. I was totally committed. Had I relapsed, I could never look my sisters in the eye again. How could I ever admit that a cigarette was more important than the wishes of a dying mother, and the life's work of my youngest sister?
What lesson can be learned from this? For me, the lesson is that it takes total commitment. My advice is largely psychological. Do not tell friends and family that you are trying to quit smoking. The word "trying" carries the implication that you might not succeed. Using that word prepares you for failure. Do not even say that you are "quitting" smoking. Using the gerund "quitting" implies that you are still a smoker. Say instead "I have quit smoking." Say this even if the decision to quit is only a few hours old. Say it with confidence, and always use past tense. Tell this to all your friends and family. Tell it to everybody, even the people you don't particularly like. DO NOT, under any circumstances, prepare yourself for failure.
It's hard to avoid preparing for failure. You know up front that quitting will likely be the most difficult task you will ever undertake. (It was for me.) It is so easy to say to yourself: "Gee, I hope I can pull this off." This kind of thinking is toxic. The moment you use words like "hope" and "try", you have prepared yourself for failure. This temptation is almost irrestistible, and it's always wrong. You must adopt the attitude that relapsing is literally unthinkable.
OK, you are a few days or weeks into your quit. You get a craving; the thought of lighting up a cigarette seems so satisfying. You have that dull ache just beneath your sternum (at least that was my principal symptom), and you know that just one cigarette will make it go away. After all, who will know? That first drag will suppress that dull ache and sweep away all the tension. At this point, try a little meditation.
Focus on that dull ache first; is it really something that you cannot tolerate? After all, it's not like you're being waterboarded. In fact, it's a very minor sensation. It really doesn't come close to the level you could call pain. In fact, it barely qualifies as a sensation. In fact, for most people there very few physical symptoms. But if you experience them, you have to deal with them. Headache? Aspirin or ibuprofen. The purely physical symptoms are minor, and will not last long. These symptoms are trivial compared with stage four cancer or cardiac failure or COPD.
Now focus on the tension you feel. It's difficult to describe, isn't it? What it actually consists of is a pattern of neural firings in your brain. This is where the addiction resides; it is also where you reside. Everything you see, feel, taste, or think is the result of zillions of synapses firing. Rooting out the patterns of neural activity that are caused by smoking is not easy, precisely because those patterns are part of what it means to be you. It takes time, effort, and total commitment.
Smoking a quick cigarette would chemically induce a different, more soothing pattern of neural activity. It would relax you. The stress you feel would melt away. This fact cannot be denied. But it would also do three other things.
First smoking that cigarette would abort your quit. If you think you can smoke just this one cigarette and then continue with your quit, you are lying to yourself. The moment you take that first drag you become a full-fledged dyed-in-the-wool smoker again. Keep meditating. Your future health -- both physical and mental -- depends on what you do right now. This is the worst moment you have had in your quit. You must train yourself to succeed, and this is an ideal opportunity to do just that. You will need this training, because there may be even worse moments to come. It is not easy, but each craving you deal with successfully is a victory that makes the next battle a bit easier to win. It's a cliche: one day at a time. Sometimes, cliches are appropriate.
Second, smoking that cigarette would throw away all the discomfort you have endured to get to this point. All that discomfort will have been in vain. Keep meditating. In a sense, this moment of temptation, this craving, can help you. It is one more moment of discomfort that you can store up in your memory bank. Every tobacco-free minute you store up is that much more you would have to lose by lighting up a cigarette. Remember, lighting up just once destroys all the effort and discomfort you have gone through. Do you really want to endure that all over again?
Third, and worst of all, you will have failed in your effort to quit. Make no mistake: one cigarette is total failure. If you smoke that one cigarette, you will have trained yourself to fail. The next time you attempt to quit, you will know that failure is an option. Remember Apollo 13: Failure is not an option.
I know that the attitude here at GUS, and indeed in any program to quit smoking, is that a single slip is not fatal to your quit. But when you are in total commitment mode, you should view a future relapse as total failure. A relapse in the past is a different thing; it cannot be changed and must be dealt with. But if you think that way about a future relapse, you are giving yourself permission to fail.
If you are presently a smoker, your presence here confirms that you are serious in your desire to quit. Perhaps you have tried to quit before, maybe several times. Maybe you didn't succeed. The reason you did not succeed is that you didn't prepare yourself properly. In fact, those previous attempts don't really count, because they were attempts. You will never again make the mistake of "trying" to quit. Put that word out of your mind!
You will quit. It will unquestionably be a total success. Failure is not an option. But you must prepare yourself properly.
The first thing to do is what you have probably done already -- read. Start with this classic diary by Dallasdoc. OK, you've probably already read it. Read it again. Follow each of his links and saturate yourself with the tips, the tools, and the insight. Get yourself fired up! (Oops, might that be the wrong metaphor?)
I am not a fan of artificial aids such as patches or gum. If you think they can help, by all means use them, but remember always that the author of your quit is YOU, not a chemical aid. If you are to be successful, you must take responsibility. Also keep in mind that nicotine replacement therapy will mean that you are still chemically addicted, and must someday go through nicotine withdrawal. There is some good logic in separating the fight into two stages. Stage one is breaking the psychological and kinetic habit. Stage two is dealing with the chemical addiction. Whichever path you take, just keep Total Commitment in mind.
I am also not a fan of quitting gradually (aka tapering off). Maybe this is a good strategy for somebody with iron discipline, but that's not me. Come to think of it, if you had iron discipline, would you still be smoking? Still, if you can bring it off, I wouldn't dream of criticizing it. But tonight I am going to offer the following as an alternative strategy.
The first thing you must do is to set a date, and a time. Make it something on the order of a week ot two in the future. Between now and then, recite the date and time to yourself several times a day. Make sure that this is an event you will not forget, for it is literally a life-changing event.
Next, make it a genuine event. There are lots of ways to do this; use your imagination. Perhaps there is some natural watershed coming up, such as a birthday or anniversary. Make sure you are surrounded by people (non-smokers only!) who you love and who love you. Maybe you throw an "Quit Event" party. Perhaps dinner at a nice restaurant. I'd limit the guest list to perhaps five or so, but use your judgement. If possible pick a restaurant where you can have a private room. At some point, take each of these people aside, look each one in the eye, and vow to them that you will never smoke again. Make it a personal promise. Tell them that you need their support. Tell them that if you experience a particularly difficult craving that you might reach out to them for moral support. Your intention is to make a relapse absolutely unthinkable. Involving the people you love on a personal level is to prepare for success!
Give each of your guests a copy of, or a link to, this diary, preferably in advance. If you are the smoker, you can ignore the following blockquote; it is intended for the people you care about, and who care about you.
Please, please do not give your friend the slightest reason to think that you will understand if she falls off the wagon. Prepare her for success; do not even contemplate the possibility of failure. At some point during the Quit Event, look her directly in the eye and express your joy that she has quit. Remember to use past tense! Help her -- compel her if you can -- to fully commit. She has undertaken a very difficult task. Your job in the next few months is to support her. Stay in touch with her, especially during the first three weeks or so. Do not give her any excuse to fail. [Adjust pronouns as appropriate.]
My quick online survey of the subject suggests that the "Quit Event" approach might be a novel one. My own quit was successful largely because of a confluence of fortuitous circumstances, and the support of those closest to me. I could not have done it alone. In retrospect, I am astonished that I succeeded. Before October 1993, I was sure I would be a smoker until the day I died. I will not lie to you and say it was easy, but my own unscripted Quit Event insured my success.
Do not let the word "try" escape your lips. Your Quit Event is to declare success, not to prepare for failure. Maybe you think it's presumptuous of you to make such a big deal of your quitting smoking. Get rid of that thought! This day is the most important day of the rest of your life. Trust me, the people that love you, and the people you love, will understand its importance. It is almost 19 years since I quit, and I still remember that week with a deep sense of joy.
Remember for the rest of your life the date and time that marks your quit. Every day that that passes, recall the very moment that you vowed to each those present that you quit. When you have a weak moment -- and there will be many -- meditate. (See above) If you can, phone one of the people who were at your Quit Event for moral support. Then ask yourself how you could ever admit failure to those to whom you have given your personal vow.
Notice that this approach -- this method, if you will -- requires total commitment. You can hardly have a Quit Event every 7 months, can you? By singling out one day and one hour, you have told the people that are closest to you that your time has arrived, and that they are both witnesses to, and participants in, an event of great personal importance.
You might find that a substitute for the kinetic part of your addiction helps. Carrying a pencil between the index finger and the middle finger (where you would normally carry a cigarette) quells a very small part of the neural activity in your brain that constitutes a craving. I found incense sticks particularly effective because they needed to be lit, and gave off a pleasant fragrance. Take advantage of any tiny edge you can find, and don't entertain the thought that it makes you look foolish. Act as though you are in a battle for your life. You are.
In preparing for this diary, I found a reference to the "terrible threes" -- three days, three weeks, three months, three years. I didn't find three years to be a watershed, but the other three definitely are. After three days, you have proved to yourself that the immediate chemical addiction can be resisted. At three days, the cravings are continuous. There is no letup; don't expect one.
By three weeks the last traces of the chemical addiction are long gone, and dealing with the psychological addiction comes to the forefront. In a sense, you are cured, but that troublesome neural storm that we call a craving keeps recurring. For years, you have trained your brain to expect relief the next time you have a cup of coffee -- and a cigarete. It is now trigger time.
It takes time to develop new pathways to override the old ones. Do not be discouraged by recurring urges; they will diminish with time, albeit slowly. Three months was the first time that I realized this. At that point there were longer and longer stretches of time during which I didn't think about how good a cigarette would feel. Imagine watching a TV program without looking for the next commercial in order to grab a couple quick drags!
It helps to appeal to your sense of self-esteem.Take personal pride in every occasion where you have a craving, and overcome it. Small victories are important; each one builds on the last. Train yourself to succeed. I firmly believe that if you do all this, you will succeed, but you must commit totally. I cannot emphasize this strongly enough. It is the central message tonight.
Now some observations on life after quitting. No doubt about it, there will be temporary discomfort. In some form or another, it will last for six months to a year. But it will diminish bit by bit until you no longer have any urge to light up. I still remember from my smoking days how good it felt to smoke a cigarette after an enforced non-smoking period, like an airplane flight. But after a year or so, I had zero desire to smoke. You might not be able to fully accept this while you are addicted, but the time will come when there are no cravings, no urges, no longer any temptation at all. I think it's important to realize that the day will come when NOT smoking is normal and natural.
One of the oddities of quitting is that to this day I occasionally have dreams about smoking. If you are one of those that remember dreams (some people don't), this can be a bit disconcerting. Don't worry about it; it doesn't mean a thing.
After quitting, some people become violently averse to the smell of tobacco smoke. That's probably a healthy reaction, but I never experienced it. In fact, I still find the smell of burning tobacco pleasant, though I no longer have a desire to pull it into my lungs.
You can do it -- you really, really can! Believe in yourself, in the people you love, and in the people that love you. This is what will sustain you.
It might seem that part of my message tonight is that if you backslide then all is lost, and you might just as well smoke yourself to death. That's not the message. A failed attempt at quitting is just part of your history as a smoker, nothing more. What it really means is that your resolve was incomplete; you were not genuinely committed. You were not ready.
This is my message. It comes from personal experience. When you become fully committed, you will succeed. If you cannot honestly say that your commitment is complete, then maybe you need to do more reading and discussing and mulling over what is at stake. I say this with trepidation. I do not want to seem to give you permission to continue smoking, but the total commitment to quit must come from within you.
End of sermon. Go thou and sin no more. :-)