After forty year of smoking 30+ a day, I have managed to kick the habit, and frankly, I do not miss the things at all. (Well…..maybe a bit.) Of course, I’ve tried before, and failed
miserably. Why? Because I was doing it for all the wrong reasons, is the simple answer.
Of course, family and friends were continually hounding me to quit. They were all concerned that I would contract any or all of the dreaded diseases associated with smoking. Surely, if I cared for them, I could stop, thus saving them all that worry. (Also, they didn’t like the smell.)
I did try for them. However, my need for nicotine won out in the end. Being of weak character, I failed, and in doing so, brought my loved ones much sadness. I felt so bad about this, my smoking increased. I might as well enjoy being a failure.
I read and heard the horror stories. Even the warnings on the cigarette packs were lost on me. I tried to buy the ones that warned me “Smoking harms other people.” Somehow, I felt a little safer, myself, that way.
I believe that to succeed at anything, one first needs as many facts as can be obtained on the subject. There are some hidden dangers lying in wait for the unwary smoker. If I need surgery for anything, I will be an aneasthetic nightmare. No matter what befalls me, my Doctor will blame it on my disgusting little habit. A broken leg will obviously be tobacco related.
Slowly but surely, I was becoming a social leper. No one would allow me to smoke in any place other than my own backyard. Governments passed Laws preventing my doing the only thing I really knew how to do well. No more long haul flying, coach or train trips, unless I was ready to withstand the rigours of Nicotine withdrawal. No trips to the theatre, or movies for the likes of me. Smoking is strictly forbidden wherever I venture.
I am addicted to Nicotine, and I cannot stop, no matter how hard I try.
On the other hand, can I? I began to ponder the realities, and ask myself hard questions. Why do I smoke? Perhaps to help me concentrate as I write? Rubbish! In fact, it is quite the reverse. Cigarette smoke corrupts the oxygen we take into our lungs and is instantly absorbed into our bloodstream, via the capillaries at the bottom of our lobes. Fresh, clean, oxygenated blood assists brain function. Dirty or polluted blood slows the electrons down. The idea that smoking helps creativity or clear thinking is a myth.
Then what about stress? Surely, that long draw of smoke is a passive, calming action, which is the direct route to reducing anxiety. Wrong again! Nicotine is a stimulant. When I inhale, I give my pancreas a “kick start” to begin producing endorphins at an enormous rate. Endorphins activate the brain into “fight or flight” mode. Instead of becoming calmer, I am becoming more active. What is fooling me is that I believe the myth, and practiced the technique enough times to prove my beliefs. I might have done better by simply taking a long, deep breath, of fresh air. Have you ever noticed why people who go for long walks somehow seem to be very calm and relaxed? Another myth exploded.
The more I pondered, the more I realized I had been brain washing myself for forty years. It is certainly no longer “cool” or sophisticated to smoke. Does kissing me really taste like licking the floor of a Turkish public Toilet? Every single motivation to remain a smoker was being washed away by a few simple truths.
However, I am addicted – how can I stop?
Actually, the answer lies with the very same self-seeking, greedy reasons for which I began smoking in the first place. It was something I wanted to do.
Nobody pointed a gun at my head, demanding that I light up, or die! I just wanted to be “cool” and do something for myself.
So while there is certainly a gun at my head demanding that I quit, I am not listening. I have plans for myself, and living without cigarettes will definitely achieve them for me.
I have always wanted to visit the USA. In particular, I would give anything to be able to stand in Times Square, New York, and soak in the atmosphere. I want to be like John Travolta, and “Strut” those bustling streets. However, sadly, I have never been able to afford the trip. I have worked out that the cost would be around five thousand dollars. Up until now, it has seemed an impossible dream.
However, let us do some basic math, and see how things have changed. In my Country, a pack of cigarettes will sell for around ten dollars. I was smoking one and a half packs, every day. Smoking was costing me fifteen dollars a day. Multiply that out to a year and the total is around five thousand five hundred dollars.
I got hold of a big glass jar, and every day I do not smoke, I put the fifteen dollars in, and close the lid. All those notes, and gold coins are starting to look impressive, but I will not spend a single cent on anything else. Bills can go unpaid. Children’s birthdays may be ignored. This money is for me! I am being very selfish about the whole thing. I have a photo of Time Square on the wall, and another of the Brooklyn Bridge. Every time I am tempted to light up, I look at the money and the pictures, and decide against the temptation.
So that there is an element of choice in the plan, I still carry a pack of cigarettes in my pocket. I can smoke any time I choose. However, inside the packet along with a few cigarettes, is a note which reads “Dear QANTAS Airlines, Please cancel my booking on your flight from Auckland New Zealand to New York USA, for the 5th of July, 2007.” If I light up, I will see my dream go up in smoke. I’m not going to allow that.
I am indeed a selfish man. I have given up smoking for something that will give enjoyment to only me. I will share it with nobody. It is mine. Just like the smokes were for me. The amazing thing is that I am not suffering any withdrawal, only eager anticipation for my trip to the Big Apple. If it works for me, it will work for you too. What do you have to lose except black lungs? See you in NY next July!
