Diaries Magazine

I’m Done. I Give Up. I Quit. For Good.

Posted on the 21 January 2011 by Tmd05 @tmd05

I’m done.  I give up.  I quit.  For good.

No, I won't be back this time.

At the start of 2010 I formulated a list of things of things I wished to complete in order to find a higher plain of happiness within myself.  These were by no means groundbreakers as far as goals go. Basically, all I set out to do throughout the year was tend to all of those little things, and there was a lot of them, that conspired in their evil little ways to erode bits & pieces of my self confidence. Amongst other things, I removed a cysty looking thingo that I’d found under my left eye, I finally found a decent bloody hairdresser after 3.5 years of fruitless searching, I had a badly broken incisor porcelain capped 4 years after 3 wannabe’s tried to relieve me of my possessions in South Melbourne one Sunday night: all little things that were adding up to one big thing, at least in my head.  The big thing on my list, however, was that I was finally going to kick my addiction to nicotine after several half arsed attempts that I was never really ready for.  I had resolved that I was indeed ready to quit smoking cigarettes at some point during 2010 & did so at the end of May with the aid of Champix, a prescription pill that, I believe, protects receptors in the brain from the effects of nicotine, thereby ensuring there are next to no cravings after that last fag has been stubbed.  I stopped biting my fingernails whilst on the medication, also.  I didn’t realize I had done so until about 2 weeks into the 4 week course.

Throughout June, July, August & September, I didn’t have one cigarette.  I didn’t feel like one; any craving was as easily dismissed as if I were shelling a pea, I wasn’t at all tempted. I just didn’t have any inclination to smoke. I thought about it, though, in a curious sort of way in that I would see people smoking in the street & think, “that was me not so long ago, I wonder what it’s like for them,” but I was comfortable & confident that I had extinguished my last cigarette a good while beforehand.                                           Come to to the first week of October & all of that fell apart.  I have no fucking idea how, it just did.  How I let it fall apart is another thing I think about; I had honestly believed my constitution was strong enough not to submit to my addiction. Obviously it wasn’t.  I wasn’t just “scabbing” the odd cigarette here & there: I went straight back into my packet a day habit.  Also, I didn’t start off smoking a lower milligram cigarette; I was straight back into the Classic’s of Messrs Benson & Hedges – the lung busting 16mg jobs. No head spins, no coughing, nothing.  It was as if I’d never given up.

This being the case, though, I was determined to give them up in the early part of the new year.  Obviously, I wasn’t going to achieve everything on my little list, which was a bit disappointing, but I was still determined to get off the cigarettes.  If it was going to be 7 or so months after I had initially planned, then so be it – I was still going to do it.  I pulled out a calendar & scanned everything: my work dates, the silly season, the whole bit. Having taken everything I gleaned from that into consideration, I chose a quitting window of January 4 to 14.

I managed to stick to this plan: I had my last cigarette, (a “scabbed” one as I’d finished a packet a couple of hours earlier), at about 8pm last Friday night, the 14th.  I went to bed roughly 90 minutes later looking forward to tackling the next day as a non smoker.

And so, I now find myself on day 7 of being smoke free & I feel good; time isn’t standing still, I’m not staring into space with a mind occupied by nothing but having a cigarette, a waft of exhaled smoke in my vicinity doesn’t smell like roses, it just smells of what it is: cigarette smoke.  The smell doesn’t disgust me, though, like it does some non smokers & other reformed smokers – I just don’t think about it.  I couldn’t care for it either way; I just don’t want to smoke anymore.  It’s that simple.                                                           There are the detractors who put a bit of shit on me & tell me that I’ll fail & all of that jazz….those detractors are all smokers.  I interpret their cynicism to be the projection of their own insecurities that germinates from a thought of, “Oh, fuck.  You’re not leaving me, too, are you?” As I say, though, that’s just my interpretation.

This is it this time.  I am absolutely certain of that.  When I think about it some more, though, perhaps it’s wrong to think of previous attempts to quit as abject failures; I have learnt something from every single attempt, and I’m using what I have learnt during those experiences to my benefit this time around.

I don’t regret, even for a minute, ever being a smoker.  I am, and always have been, fully aware of its dangers, but I enjoyed it: I honestly enjoyed having a cigarette, especially after dinner. But I don’t enjoy it anymore, and I haven’t done for a long time now.  Now, I’m looking forward to day 8 as a non smoker.  Then day 9.  Then day 10….and so on.  I’m done.  I give up.  I quit.  For good.

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By Shawn
posted on 28 August at 08:07
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Write more, thats all I have to say. Literally, it seems as though you relied on the video to make your point. You clearly know what youre talking about, why throw away your intelligence on just posting videos to your site when you could be giving us something informative to read?

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