My Quitting Smoking Blog

One year today without cigarettes

benway — Thu, 01 Feb 2007 02:01:59 GMT

So, one year ago last night at 11:40 I had my last smoke. I haven't smoked ANY tobacco since then. Well, let me be as specific as I can be: # My friend passed me a blunt once, and, not knowing that it was a blunt I took a hit off of it. A blunt is a joint that has been rolled in a tobacco leaf, just FYI. So, I really didn't know. Honest. I only had one puff. It was fucking great. # I have kissed several girls who have just smoked. This doesn't count as smoking. # I have deliberately sat downwind of people who are smoking Nat Shermans # I held a cigarette in my mouth -- lit -- but didn't inhale -- at Oregon Country Fair. Cody passed me a lit cigarette and ran off; I saw an amazing photo that I had to take, and not wanting to drop the smoke on the ground I held it in my lips and took five photos in about ten seconds. The smoke stung my eyes and made me wince. I am happy with how the photos turned out, they're very....iconic....if you're into the whole OCF thing: http://michaelholden.com/pics/v/fair/BestFairPics/DSC_0950.JPG.html Other than that, none at all. I've found smokes, even nat shermans, and haven't smoked 'em. I've been at Burning Man, all sorts of festivals, you name it: No cigarettes at all. I intend to keep it that way. Thanks to everyone for their support, their help and their words of encouragement. Many extra special thanks to: Julie, because I was a total SPAZ for about a week, to Candace for the words of advice and acrid lobelia extract, to Donovan for a massage that really helped me deal with it, and to all the cute girls who kissed me after smoking Nat Shermans. Last year when I quit this moment seemed so far away. But now...it's just now. I didn't even notice when the actual moment came and went. Way it goes with those ciggies, man. Thanks everyone. Michael PS Thinking of quitting? If I can do it you can to. Really. Ask me. :)

Four months, no smokey treats

benway — Tue, 06 Jun 2006 01:55:39 GMT

So, it's been four months. It hasn't been easy, but overall being quit is easier than smoking....it's just not as gratifying, tho. Now I'm down at Oregon Country Fair, working pre-fair. It seems that almost everyone here smokes, which isn't the case of course, but most of the people on my crews smoke so it seems pretty smokey. I kind of like it. They all smoke, I get a little second hand smoke -- outside, mind you, so it's not disgustivating -- and everyone's happy. No real urge to actually smoke, tho. I mean, sure, there's a lot of times when it would be great to smoke, but I don't feel like I'm really tempted. Too much. To actually do it, I mean. Sometimes being tempted by something you know you can resist is kinda fun. As is kissing a girl who's just smoked a Nat Sherman's. Am I a sick fuck or what? At any rate, I've taken a bunch of pictures of what it's like down here, come on in and check 'em out: http://michaelholden.com/pics/

Two months

benway — Tue, 04 Apr 2006 00:55:38 GMT

The weird thing about smoking is that when you're a smoker you can't not think about it, to the extent that all the smokie ritual stuff runs as a background process while the rest of your life is going on. You might not notice it but that doesn't mean that it's not happening. It's been two months, two days and eighteen hours at this moment (5:40 PM, 4/3/06) since my last cigarette and I guess that I'm not really a smoker anymore. The two month anniversary of me quitting smoking came and went unnoticed. Of course I was working on other things. I realized eventually, of course, and granted, that was a weird day and a weird week not to mention a weird month, but I remember that after I quit I payed a lot of attention to the temporal side of quitting: 12 hours, a day, 100 hours, a week. Maybe this is because when we are smokers we measure out our days with cigarettes, and then, lacking smokie treats, we measure time since we've quit. Eventually we start to mark our lives by another measure and we simple...forget...to....count. I did want cigarettes more than a few times over the weekend. Who would have thought that event management would be a smoking trigger? But...still, no smokes, not a one, not a puff, not once. Even after a tough week and a tough month and even a tough year. So...I guess I'm not a smoker anymore. One thing that I've noticed, tho, is that when I start to lust for cigarettes (damnit, Amani!) the craving takes me by surprise, I'm not guarded against it as much as I used to be. Not that I can't muster the resolve to deal with it, it's just that it's like some evil clown with a megaphone pops up and yells "POW! You want a smokie treat, man!" and that's just freaky.

More than a month?!?!?

benway — Fri, 10 Mar 2006 15:41:53 GMT

So I'm up at Whistler, I've been up here for a week, riding my ass off. One thing that is simply fantastic about not smoking is that it's easier to hike up the last couple hundred yards to get to the top of the Blackcomb glacier. But....one thing that sucks about not smoking is that after, when you've got your beer and you're sitting there, kind of staring out, thinking about chihuahuas and talking about snow, there aren't any wonderful Nat Shermans to enjoy. Whistler is a weird place. There are hoardes of Japanese hipsters who ride snowboards, wear more brown tones than their Western counterparts and smoke in the lift lines. They also ride in packs. Even stranger are the european women who wear fur, roll beautiful cigarettes and drink like sailors. They're a trip. Yo, pulmonary health is rad.

Day 16? 17? Does it even matter anymore?

benway — Fri, 17 Feb 2006 22:57:20 GMT

It was roughly 1 PM when I thought about cigarettes this morning. Of course, I was distracted by, um, things much much much more interesting than cigarettes. But, like what the fuck? How many days has it been? I fergit. A bunch. Do I still want 'em? Fuck yes. Do I want 'em as bad? Fuck no! Is it easy to not smoke? Fuck no! So what gives? I am slowly recovering. But sometimes I'll see someone having that first smoke of the day, with their coffee, waiting for the bus and I just want to be them, just for a second. A friend's friend was even smoking Sherman's at the potluck the other night and I had to SERIOUSLY resist the urge to eat their butts. OK, that sounds all wrong. I mean their cigarette butts. The friend's friend has a great butt. But it's the smokey treats that are off limits to me. FOr now. For today. For ever. So now my life is no longer measured out by cigarettes. I miss that ritual and rythmn, but don't miss the shortness of breath, the bad breath, the mind-set of addiction, the nasty smelling clothes, the hiding it from kids and cute girls. So, there's your update. Thanks for all your collective support and comments and kisses. :)

Day 8, 2.75 hours -- Another beautiful day to smoke like a chimney!!

benway — Fri, 10 Feb 2006 20:56:43 GMT

A beautiful morning, utterly unseasonal and anomolous. The sun is out, the sky is blue, I have moved a chihuahua pod (ie, a basket with a pillow and a heating pad covered in an old black Google tshirt) directly into a SUNBEAM, I've moved one of my Mackies into the doorway (which is open so I can air the place out), I'm working on the porch and -- get this -- I AM NOT CHAIN SMOKING! But lemme tell ya, a warmish morning in February like this BEGS for Nat Shermans. But no. Not a one. Not a puff, not a drag off yours, not even off of Angel's Dunhills (mmmm, brit-tastic!), not a moment of weakness (agony, yes, but I held fast), no nicotine, no smokie treats, no gum, no patch, no eating the butts off my porch, no drying out the wet butts on the stairs and rolling up lil' pods of joy, nothing. But god it would be wonderful right now. Now, I'm past the physicial writhing, that horrible part where -- who was that, Gibson? -- said that chemical pliers are prying the addictive chemicals from your brain. So now it's in my head, it's like phantom pain. It's kind of like grieving for a lost love or a lost friend or a favorite place from childhood, or maybe what it would be like to loose a limb or your sense of smell: I wish....I remember.....We used to....This was where.... But it's passing. Yoga helps. Kambucha helps. That weird mushroom extract tonic myco-stuff from Angel really helps. The yummy chew sticks from Candace are awesome, too, except I feel like Cleatus the Slack Jawed Yokel chewing on them in front oif people. And now I can feel the breath (if you catch me saying prana please kick my ass!) coming easier when doing yoga. I washed all my shit so it doesn't smell like ciggies any more at all. Now there's this big decoupling/anti-ritualization thing that I'm activley working on which is a much bigger mental hack than just not lighting and smoking those damn fuck sticks. Gotta say that hanging out with folks (but especially cute girls) who don't smoke really helps, but in all fairness, kissing a girl who has just smoked is pretty damn nice, too. It's as close as I'm ever gonna get to actually smoking a cigarette. Now, girls who smoke Cigars....hmmmm....ok, stop that, don't go there. And finally on top of it all: YES, it is no longer time to measure out my life by the rhythmn of cigarettes: Time to smoke, going outside, the lighting it part, the smoking it part, the almost done part, the flicking out the butt part. Then going back in. Well, that's the meek Northwest way to do it anyway. Way different when you smoke in the house, which is like a fantastic guilty pleasure that I should have indulged in more often. So thanks to the fact that I can mount various drives and access half a fucking terrabyte of music from my fucking PORCH the random musical generation psychic goddess inside of iTunes has profered up "kiss off" by the Violent Femmes to which upon rrelefction and some editing could easily be an ode to how woonderful it is to smoke Nat Shermans on beautiful clear sunny February mornings: I smoked one, one one cuz ya left me And two, two, two for my family, I smoked three, three for my heartache And four, four, four for my headaches And five, five, five cuz you get the picture now, right? Now it's time to write some burly perl code, implement some forum software, do something about user registration and the database, um, something else, too, I think that it was like, design and build a commerce site with full user account access, oh, and could you add hierarchical permissions to that, and a full admin interface? Yep. On it.

7 days, 15 hours -- Getting easier, getting weirder

benway — Fri, 10 Feb 2006 00:26:11 GMT

I no longer crave smokes like a dying man craves life itself. But there are moments where a smoke would be fantastic. The smell of cigarettes doesn't gross me out, surprisringly. It's almost erotic. This cute girl was smoking a cigarette and when she was done I asked if I could kiss her and she was like, dude, I just smoked a cigarette, that's gross. And I was like, no, actually it's hot! How is that for fucked up in the head? So, no more actual smoking ciggies, that's against the rules, but occationally kissing cute girls who have just smoked? That's not breaking any rules. Mmm. Esp. if they've been smoking nat shermans. Good god, I can see some totally twisted smoking mastubatory fantasy coming out of this. Just kidding, I have much more exciting things to fantasize about and even better stuff to actually do in reality (with cute non-smoking girls, too). But it's fun to think about. Moreover, I promise to never be one of those self-righteous just-quit fig puckers who try to tell everyone what to do and where to do it. If you catch me doing that shit, you have every right to make me perform whatever nicotine-related pennance you see fit. And for this shit, there is no safe word.

Day 5 + a few hours: Not easy, but easier

benway — Mon, 06 Feb 2006 10:04:28 GMT

So there's no way I can say that this is easy now or was easy at any part of it. But what can I say? After 5 days I'm over the pysical cravings, the totally gnarly cravings, anyway. Now there's just the mind part -- and that's the really hard part. So, let's see how it goes. Basicly, I'm still totally down with the fact that I will not smoke another cigarette ever again, and that makes it easier, that's my solace, my ray of light through the void. None, never, ever. Not to turn into a non-smoking reformed nicotine nazi fuckwad or anything like that, you can smoke all you want and I won't say shit. But I'll help you quit. Interesting note, after my last entry I went into a 18-hour long weird wah wah mental state after basicly ODing on the Lobelia. That shit is strong stuff, don't mess with it without the direct hands-on supervision of someone who actually has a clue. My mistake was thinking, ok, it's just the extract of some fucking plant, like this is gonna do anything. WRONG! Less is more. Really. The net effect of those 18 hours is that it got me through the last of the physical cravings and also set up a huge negative association between nicotine cvravings and doing something about them. So, ra, no more lobelia. But I am eating those chew sticks like they're candy. Better than smokie treats for sure....

Day 3, 59.5 hours

benway — Fri, 03 Feb 2006 19:18:24 GMT

So I made it through yesterday without smoking. Parts of it were easier than others. The hard parts included, um, well, just about everythng. It's totally fucked: the cigarette has insinuated itself into every part of my daily ritual. Eating, drinking coffee, working, writing code, driving, hanging out with people, walking down the street, before a shower, shit, they've gotten themselves into everything. Everything. But RIGHT NOW would be a great time for a cigarette. So, I am going to do a shot of Lobeliea tincture and do stream of consciousness writing about my experience. Please note: Lobelia tastes like eating a burning tire covered in someone else's puke. This is gonna be tough. Hold on, let me get my vial... OK, here goes...gahhhh it burns its awful bile rising, retching, face contorted, burning feeling going down throat, mouth burns less now but it's all in ym belly, sudden cramps, involuntary shudders, awful taste, taste so bad, water doesn't help it, it sticks. Still burning but less. Tastes bad but not as bad. OK, calming. Sudden retching, didn't puke, tho. Whew, ok, now it's manageable. Jesus. That was awful. Interesting thought: That kind of reminds me of my first cigarette.... Whew. THanks for being with me during that. Sigh. 59.75 hours and counting, MIchael

Day 2, 8:30 AM, 32.5 hours -- Time for cigarettes and coffee!

benway — Thu, 02 Feb 2006 16:26:33 GMT

It is time for some coffee and cigarettes dammit. And I got nuthin. If this gets much worse I will probably smoke chihuahua shit. OR do another shot of that Lobelia stuff, which is totally helps but tastes worse than smoking chihuahua shit. Candace says that that's part of the aversion therapy. Kid -> school now....

Day 1, 25 hours

benway — Thu, 02 Feb 2006 08:42:29 GMT

Thanks to the Lobelia and a fantastic massage from Julie I've made it past the 24 hour mark. I don't think that I'm past the hard part, but it is interesting to note that this really isn't as bad as when my back goes out, or any one of a number of skateboarding/snowboarding accidents. It's about as bad as a really awful sunburn, really, except that I can make it stop at anytime just by smoking a cigarette. OK, to bed. Yoga tomorrow. Gah.

22.5 hrs.....Right now would be a great time for a cigarette

benway — Thu, 02 Feb 2006 05:58:14 GMT

Freaking out. Ready to eat the butts off the porch. I can totally relate to the crack ho's I used to know when I was a cab driver. This cold turkey thing sucks ass.

Day 1, 12 hours since last cigarette

benway — Wed, 01 Feb 2006 19:48:55 GMT

I smoked my last Nat Sherman's last night at about 11:40. It's been 12 hours. I am in withdrawal for sure but I'm not quite at the freaking-out-losing-my-mind stage. That will come, tho. I keep thinking that it's time for a smoke, like: after yoga, with coffee, after my shake, right the fuck now while I'm writing this post (but instead I'm inside snuggling with the chihuahua), and what the hell, right after I post this would be the perfect time for a smoke, too. Jesus. I'm going to run by Candace's to get some remedies -- lobelia, valerian, whatever she tells me to get really. Good god, I'm gonna need 'em. Then, off to get my son and some skate shoes. Then we'll go ride skateboards in the UW underground parking garage. Gotta stay busy...