Personal Stories

Quitting Cold Turkey

I smoked as a teen. It was more an act of rebellion than anything else, but I liked it as a social device, as well. If you saw a cute guy, you could always ask him for a light to break the tension. You could smoke with your friends, too.

When my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer, I decided to quit. He was a pack a day smoker for most of his 80 years and I knew I could easily end up just like him. And so I dropped the cigarettes.

The problem is that I have a very addictive personality. If you give me one smoke, I’ll take the pack. It’s one of the issues that has also led to weight problems for me. So, when I decided to give up smoking, I knew there was no way I was going to make it if I tried to gradually work down to zero. Going cold turkey was the only way to go for me. It was certainly not easy, but it was necessary.

At the age of 21, I tossed my last pack in the garbage, fought my desire to pull it right back out and finish it up, and I walked away. The first few days were the worst. I was jittery and constantly reaching for the smokes that weren’t there anymore.

I stayed far away from my smoking friends and I basically holed up in my room when I wasn’t at work. It wasn’t fun, but in the end, I got through it. The desire to smoke didn’t go away though, for a long time. Even now, nearly 20 years later, I still want to smoke sometimes! The trick is to make the decision each minute of each day. “I’m not going to smoke.”

Distraction helped a lot, too. I spent a lot of time reading or watching TV to keep my mind off things. However, since I quit cold turkey, I’ve had one cigarette in nearly all those 20 years. Not too bad, I think! I can proudly say that my children will not be subjected to second hand smoke and that makes it all very worth it.

Real Cravings of an Imaginary Smoker

Three days ago:  

So I was on this plane taking me from Dakar to Istanbul, an 11 hour flight, cramped in a unbelievably small seat. I was flanked by two stern -looking middle aged guys. How in the world is my time going to go by?.. I had stomach cramps all afternoon just before getting on the plane. No doubt,  it was in anticipation of this trip. It was the anxiety of someone who was going to be confined, deprived… Stress, stress, stress, cramps, cramps, cramps. All afternoon, it was the same symptoms any addict would have before involuntary rehab. Read more

Pleasure: My First Time

The first time I smoked, I was a rebel, angry and stupid. 

Whew, it felt weird writing that first sentence, but yes, it's true.

I smoked not because of peer pressure, but maybe because of a little bit of subliminal marketing from television ads. Okay, it was a lot. I don't blame my dad even though he was a chain smoker. He often smoked two to three packs of Phillip Morris a day. (May he rest in peace). For all that has been said and done, I made that dumb decision myself. 

Mostly, what brought me to that moment, to that decision, was a mixture of runaway emotions that are quite normal for rebellious and hormone infused teenagers. I was a curious, confused and hormone laden boy monkey. 

When I think about it today, I recall that moment of planning, of figuring out where to buy, how much they cost, where to smoke, and what brand. In hindsight these were pretty, pretty stupid and trivial matters, since I was caught!

Now, that was not part of the plan!

The brand that I chose was Philip Morris, the green menthol ones which are longer than Marlboros and quite cheaper. Why? Because I saw them a lot at home. I thought to myself: I'm going to start with something familiar. Besides, they were affordable at 20 pesos for a pack of 20. This was in the late 90s, so that was about 50 US cents a pack! The thought of stealing from my father's cigarette pack also crossed my mind, but I knew I'd get caught.

The first problem to overcome was where to buy them. We lived in a middle class subdivision in the Philippines and I was quite naive. (Okay, very naive.) I was thinking quite falsely and innocently

  • "What if the storekeep calls my parents right after I buy?"
  • "What if I go to jail for buying?"

So I came up with the insidious idea to say, "Somebody asked me to buy it for them" 

In my mind, I was reciting to myself an imaginary dialogue with my targeted store. 

  • Me: "I'd like to buy some cigarettes please," quite casually.
  • Storekeep: "May I see your license to buy cigarettes." said the storekeep quite sternly.
  • Me: Quite cooly "Oh, I don't have any, somebody just asked me to buy it for them."

As naive as the dialogue now sounds, that was my way of thinking about it then. 

To my surprise, it was actually easier. 

Nobody cared what you bought. Nobody asked any questions. None. 

So right after school, I bought a pack quite easily and also bought a lighter. Now the trick was to smoke when my parents were out of the house. That day, all of my plans seemed to be working out all right. Dad was not yet home, mom was shopping. So, I climbed on top of our water tank, which was as high as the roof of our two story house. 

The view was awesome.

It was like playing with Google Earth for the first time. I saw nearby cities and houses and neighbors' houses I hadn't yet met. I felt the power of the wind move my body gently. It was like a gentle nudge from an invisible force.

I am afraid of heights. Climbing that tower felt exciting and exhilirating. The throbbing in my chest felt stronger. Bright yellow and red imaginary exclamation points were popping up everytime I moved my arms or legs. It was a new, unknown and exciting feeling. 

After I soaked all of the new sensory inputs in, I sat down and got the cigarettes. 

You see, as stupid as I may have been at the time, at least I had the sense to think that smoke flies outwards and upwards. If I stayed on top of the water tank, I somehow felt that nobody would smell it at all. 

So I did this several times, timing whenever my parents were out. 

Finally, I got caught. 

Yes, the smoke does flow upward and outward, but the smell stuck to my clothes! As soon as my mother caught me,  she told me to go down the water tank, like, "Danny !%!%! Go down the water tank!"

A new type of exciting feeling came over me, but this time, it wasn't awe or that feeling of danger. It was fear!

"So, you want to smoke? Do you even have a job?" (I was a teenager)

No.

"This is what we give you money for?"

No. Sorry. 

"Give me your pack of cigarettes."

I don't have any. I lied.

"What do you take me for, they're in your pockets. See, it's bulging!"

Sorry. Here. 

"Now you want to be a big man?"

No.

"Here smoke them all at the same time!"

I shook my head.

Then my mom, tore all up the cigarettes like they were pieces of paper. 

Brown and white pieces scattered on the floor just beneath the base of the water tower. At the time, I was thinking, "What a waste." 

"Clean them up."

I did.

 

 

 

 

 

Trial and Error

My name is Amber and I am 23 years old. That picture above is of my husband and I. We have 4 beautiful children together. Our family consists of three little men and one little princess. They are 4 years old, 2 years old, 1 year old and six months old.

I am a smoker and I have been one since I was thirteen years old. I was pushed into smoking by two cousins of mine. As it turns out, family can be just as persuasive as your best friend. Family sometimes is much worse,  because they are supposed to love you.

Well I started because of them, and I have been smoking ever since. My entire family, the women at least, have no teeth.

I am now missing five teeth on top and one on bottom. I currently have stitches in the bottom part of my mouth. I just recently got all of these pulled. This included my front teeth. I am now wearing partial dentures. I have been told by family that it is because of having kids so close together.

I, however, do not think this is true. Perhaps this affected my dental health a little, but I"m quite certain that smoking has caused this problem for me. I no longer feel as pretty as I once did. I do not think I look as young as I really am, thanks to smoking. My mother is only 42 years old and she looks as if she is 65. This is no joke.

I have been reading up on some advice and tips on quitting. I have already lost some of my teeth, but I would like to keep what I do have. I want to be healthier for my children and my husband. They deserve me, and they deserve to have me around for a while. I do not want to go out the way my grandmother did.

My grandmother passed away having to be on oxygen and other medications. I already have asthma, and I do not want to add to that. I hope I have encouraged someone somewhere to quit with this blog. I am trying my hardest to quit myself.

My Grandmother

My grandmother was my best friend. She was an amazing woman that would do anything for anyone. On February 6, 2013 she passed away from cancer at 70 years old. She has smoked since she was about 16 years old. When she got to be about 55 she was on oxygen continuously. She slowly Read more

Trapped: Stop Controlling My Life!

With chains I am bound, to a destiny of toil, bondage and servitude to an unseen master. They who have the power to alter the course of this lifestream has a chokehold on my life. Oftentimes, they grip it with talons as sharp as an eagle’s. I turn purple as I grasp for air, trying to clutch that Read more

Maybe Tomorrow: Quitting and The Procrastinating Diva

I am what you call a professional procrastinator. Unfortunately, it has been that way since I was just little diaper clad diva of four who would much rather have smeared my finger paint on the wall than sit down with those boring old letter and number books my parents were always trying to foist Read more

Smoking and Drinking: A Dangerous Cocktail

When you picture people at bars, you see men and women casually smoking AND drinking, right? As the daughter of an alcoholic and a heavy smoker, my heart goes out to the children and spouses of those who indulge in both. Because let’s be realistic, the likelihood that anyone who smokes also drinks is strong. I did not see the correlation as a child or teenager, I just thought of them as separate bad habits. Read more

Sex and the Smoker

It was a hot and steamy evening with no cool breeze whispering its vanity. The echoes of the waves from the beach rhythmically splash as the world sleeps. But somewhere in Havana, some innately natural and distinctly human ritual is happening. Two souls, connected as one, embark on a pristine exploration of their own humanity. Finally, the winds whisper again, and the leaves of a small palm tree swooshes about, tingling and mingling as if they were rolling in laughter.  Read more

Dealing with Shame: No Excuses

"If you're doing nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear or be ashamed of."

That is a principle I've always kept close to my heart. In the last few days, there are a lot of things that have happened that just made me feel constricted and stressed out. Therefore, I was not able to control my smoking. In fact, it has gotten worst. I am back to smoking 1 pack a day and I'm not making this an excuse. I'm writing this because, I feel weak at having broken my goal.

It all started when a man tresspassed in our fenced and gated land. I have had to confront him. He was carrying a jungle bolo (a small sword), he walked about like it was his property, took a look left and right, thereaways and sideaways then that's the time he went to me to ask for some bamboo.

I was seething with anger even though I know this man, because he was not really a friend, just a neighbor. A neighbor who walked inside our fenced and gated property, without declaring his intentions first and who was carrying a bolo.

When I was face to face with him, I first took a look at the bolo, sheethed at his side. I glanced at his hands whether its movements or intentions were directed at reaching out for it. I stared at him for a whole 5 minutes, mustering up all my strength to control my anger and you know what I did?

Nothing. I said nothing and did nothing. I just stared at him so he knows that I'm angry at what he had just done. 

If this was in another place, maybe in the cities, I would have acted differently. But this was a unique place. I am surrounded by a clan with a history of violence.

I have daughters of my own. 

To top it all off, he seemed unaware of his transgression. He feels that he has done nothing wrong and it was his right to just barge in, walk about and count the things that he would like to get.

He said to me,

"Danny are you angry?"

I stared at him.

"Danny, why are you angry? I've done nothing wrong."

I let out a deep breath. 

2 minutes passed and I was still staring at him. 

He was a big man, about 40 to 50 years old, taller than me and I've heard stories about him. They said that he was the "Barako" or bull of this small town back during the times when here was still wild. That if his brothers were still alive, he would have been the "King" of this place way back when.

Finally he said,

"Danny, I am weak and old."

Something in my adrenaline infused mind, clicked. Just like that, my anger meter suddenly went down to about 10%. 

I let out a deep breath and sighed.

With a harried and annoyed tone I gave way, "Ok, ok, what do you need?"

The story ended with me hauling 8 bamboo poles to this man's house and me buying him 4 cans of corned beef. I am still angry and indignant, but I believe that I have done the right thing.

Other people would just have brought a gun to the equation. Simple solution, though it has its own demerits.

Make him feel that what he did was wrong and at the same time, send a message to the overall community that I don't mean harm.

I'm just demanding a little respect. 

Since then, there has been another instant of tresspassing. This was last week.

I know that we need to have the fence fixed. They've created holes in it.

So, what do I do after an adrenaline infused situation?

I smoked more since then.

What else could I have done to calm myself? 

Image credit: Flickr cod_gabriel