This is a diary I've been meaning to write for a while. You see, I haven't had a cigarette in over a month. And it's partially thanks to PatsBard.
Don't get me wrong, I don't know PatsBard. PatsBard doesn't know me. But way, way back in July, he(?) wrote a diary about quitting smoking with Chantix. I read it; I'm pretty much a confirmed lurker, so I'm fairly certain I didn't comment. But the honesty about the fact that this drug helped but wasn't a miracle cure-all made me curious. As a matter of fact, it made me seriously think about quitting. You see, I stated to get short of breath recently walking any real distances. Not enough to slow me down, but enough so I sounded like I was five breaths shy of an asthma attack every time I went to the gym. I didn’t like the way I felt when I smoked. I didn’t like needing a cigarette every time I got upset, stressed out, hungry, happy, laid, etc. And yearly bouts of severe bronchitis are never fun. So I had started to cut back. And then my doctor ran a lung function test on me. It came up 70%. Frankly, that scare me. I thought I was ready to quit and the fear pushed me over the edge. So, 70% lungs and I started taking the drug.I started on the drug, and like PatsBard, weaned off until I stopped a couple of weeks in. My last cigarette was Sept. 20.
People, if you smoke and you want to quit, try Chantix. Seriously. Last time I tried to quit, I was on Zyban, which technically did work. The problem is, it worked by making me not care about anything. I could go to work. Or not. I could do my job. Or not. I could smoke. Or not. Zyban made me feel like I was wrapped in cotton – everything was distant and I didn’t care about anything. I lasted all of three weeks on the drug and quit for seven months. This was about four years ago. I started smoking again after severe mood swings – which made wonder if the last shrink I saw who said I smoked to control my moods and asked if I considered Prozac had a valid point or five – and, yes, the inevitable night out with the girls. All of whom smoked.
So, onto (serious) attempt number two, and why I like this drug. My understanding is that it works by targeting the nicotine receptors in the brain; I like it because it does this while letting me experience everything else my brain has to offer. As a matter of fact, since I started taking it, I really don’t want to smoke. That need, that bone-deep craving, that voice in your head screaming for a cigarette – if you have never smoked, you will not understand how it starts off so quiet and grows and grows until it consumes your focus and you acquiesce to that desire. If you have smoked, you know exactly what I mean. And Chantix pretty much kills it for me.
Not that this has been all fun and roses – there have been some side effects, the worst of which, for me, was a moderate to severe headache when I started taking the drug and nausea after taking it. Well, I’ve discovered that the more I smoked while of the meds, the worse the headache was. Since I stopped, no headache. Now that is effective negative reinforcement. As for the nausea – well, it does say to take it on a full stomach, so that’s my own fault. So, score one for the pill.
It doesn’t do it all, however. Chantix deals with the cravings, the physical addiction. I have to deal with the habit itself. And, ladies and gentlemen – and readers – that is why smoking is a motherfucker of a habit to kick for good.
That night, at the bar, with my friends – when they all lit up at once, the scent was like ambrosia. I had to have a cigarette at that moment. And that was it. Now that I’m not fighting the physical addiction, I can see how much of my habit was driven by, well, habit, and how much was need-based. And not having to have a cigarette, I can start breaking those habits, which I have. And damn is it hard.
Seven years ago, I quit doing drugs. I had a fairly serious daily habit that I shared with my husband at the time. I quit because we blew our rent money on drugs. To get clean and stay clean, I flushed the last of our supply down the toilet, made both of us get clean, moved into his mother’s house, and cut ties with every person I knew who was an active drug user or condoned its use.
It was very lonely, but it worked. It also, I think, directly contributed to the failure of my first marriage.
Trying to quit smoking is far worse – it is a little habit that is perfectly legal. Communities may crack down on smoking in public, but no one will stop you form buying a pack at a convenience store. I can’t make the kind of drastic life change I did before to successfully quit. I've had to relearn my life.
I had to relearn what to do with myself at work so I wouldn’t go smoke on my breaks.
I had to relearn how to drive without reaching for a cigarette because some jackass cut me off. Or I’m at a stoplight. Or waiting in a drive-thru.
I had to relearn how to spend time at home without going out on the patio for a cigarette. I have to learn how to take a phone call form my mom without wandering out on to the patio and lighting up.
I haven’t written a word since this started because I am desperately afraid I can’t write without smoking. During NaNoWriMo last year, I used to "reward" myself with a cigarette for writing 1,000 words.
I have to learn how to smell cigarette smoke and not think of how it feels to smoke. Even after a month, it still smells good.
It hasn't been easy. I dream about smoking. I don't think I've been in a convenience store since I quit. Going to class at night is hell because I walk straight through a smoking section. But I'm learning. I'm terrified I'll fail and start up again. But every day it gets a little bit easier, not smoking a little more ingrained.
When my doctor retested my lung function a couple of weeks after I quit, it was up to 79%. It can only get better from there.
Okay, I've gone on long enough. Long story short: Chantix isn't a miracle, but it helped me. So, thank you PatsBard for sharing.
days without a cigarette: 33