Rubbish Ways to Quit Smoking

When people look at me, they probably think: what a healthy guy, sweet biceps, is he really 32? More like 25! He’s a picture of health, he should wear tighter t-shirts, and words to that effect.

But what if I told you I have a secret?

A secret that many aren’t aware of.

A naughty secret.

No, worse than a naughty secret. A dark secret.

Yes, you internet browsers: I. Have. A. Dark. Secret.

I used to smoke cigarettes.

There I’ve said it. I’m a Health and Well Being Worker in Lancaster, but I before embarked on healthy living, I was a bad boy, believe me I was awful. I’d think nothing of annihilating four cigarettes in in a mere 24 hours. At the weekend it got worse, I was suckling on six or seven cigarettes every given Saturday; if you factor in my usual eight hours sleep, we’re looking at one cigarette every two hours (when conscious). Just call me Mr. Chimney, because that was what I was smoking like (a chimney).

This wasn’t a phase, I was an addict and nicotine my drug of choice. I got reckless, found myself shacked up in bed with two dangerous men. You may have heard of these trouble makers: a certain Mr. Benson and a Mr. Hedges; more commonly known as Benson and Hedges!

I am no longer an addicted smoker; I now describe myself as a recovering smoker. Did I wake up one morning and magically stop? Not a chance, buster. In fact quitting smoking has been an absolute nightmare. I’ve tried loads of futile stop smoking tactics and I’ve failed more times than Arsenal football club. As human beings we can learn from our failures, which is why I’d like to dedicate this blog to my own non-smoking gaffes. The list below are some examples of the tactical mistakes I’ve made trying to quit, so hopefully you can avoid them.

The Proclamation

It makes me wince when I see others do it, proclaiming to every man and his dog that you’re going to quit. Unless you’re a robot you may set yourself up for a spectacular fall.

I remember my proclamation, it was when I had an office job. I was in the break room and I blurted out, ‘Hey everyone, I’m quitting smoking. As of today, Richard is smoke free!’ I think I even stood on the table, to add an exclamation mark to my speech.

There was plenty of back slapping, congratulations, a few hip hip hurrays and even a Ricky the smoking quitter chant. One babe from sales told me how proud she was of me whilst twiddling her fingers through her dandruff free hair. Hubba hubba. I even got a courteous nod from the firm’s Managing Director and this MD was a miserable middle aged man (with comically red cheeks), so a nod from him was probably the equivalent of a cuddle.

At home time, as word spread of my non-smoking heroics, my colleagues (easily half a dozen of them) lined up outside the car park and, guard of honour style, gave me an uproarious round of applause. I won’t lie to you, having so many acquaintances producing a sound of approval by striking the palms of their hands together in a repeated fashion made my bottom lip quiver with pride.

But what happens when the clapping stops, what happens the month after, the week after, heck, even the day after the euphoria of your peers’ respect dissipates?

I’ll tell you what happens, you start to feel cravings and sense all eyes are on you. You think to yourself I can’t smoke because I’ve earned an uproarious round of applause. And what about the babe from sales with dandruff free hair? She’s counting on you, Richard! Not being able to smoke stresses you out, and it’s like your every move is monitored by your colleagues, who are now the Stop Smoking Police. It builds up and builds up and builds up, in the end the only way to cope with this stress is to have a cigarette.

So you do.

You sneak into the bikers’ shed, bum a smoke off Brin, the IT technician, you feel more and more guilty after each wretched puff. To make matters worse, Brin bores the pants off you talking about gigabytes and his love for Mark Zuckerberg. You go back to your desk shameful and stinky and someone pipes up: ‘You reek of cigarettes Richard, I thought you’d quit? What a let down. I knew you wouldn’t last.’ And guess who that someone is: it’s only the babe from sales with dandruff free hair.

Nice one, Brin. Next time talk to someone else about gigabytes and Mark Zuckerberg.

(I can’t blame Brin really. It was my fault, I smoked)

The Go Team Approach

Support groups are fantastic, a great way for people, in the midst of a particular issue to discuss ideas, provide emotional support, and generally facilitate positive behaviour and change.

What isn’t such a good example of a support group is three gentlemen waking up, worse for wear, Marlborough Red throated, feeling a nameless dread the morning after a night out in Lancaster. Individually they don’t have enough will power to quit smoking, but as a collective they all could. A problem shared is a problem halved, right? Yeah, nice try lads!

(Please note, I’m talking about this from personal experience as I was one of the three gentlemen in question)

Admittedly, some people find the buddy system helps, but I found that it wasn’t just my own cravings I had to deal with, it was two other people’s cravings too. And these two people had even less will power than me. Add on top of that we were all novices when it came to quitting smoking, it was a case of the blind following the blind and one wrong turn would lead us down Nicotine Alley, Ashtray-Upon-Tyne, Smokersville.

It doesn’t take Columbo to figure out that we gave in when the going got tough. We found ourselves having a good giggle about our doomed stop smoking effort with a cigarette in each of our gobs. There was a camaraderie in our failure, so why not giggle? Oh yeah, here’s why, we lasted no longer than three hours smoke free that Sunday.

It’s plain to see that I am not an advocate of the go team approach on a whim with friends. Support groups though, they’re fantastic. Couldn’t praise them more.

Avoiding Smokers

I think this may have been my biggest mistake. Once I had announced I had quit smoking I would put myself away from scenarios where I knew smoking would occur. If my friends went outside a pub or a night club to smoke then I would say, ‘Hey guys, I’ll hang back seeing as I’m a non-smoker.’

But this left to me feeling left out because I would see my pals outside chatting, laughing and having an awesome time. On one occasion they were joined by Mike Baldwin from vintage era Coronation Street. I could only look on in horror as my friends joked with my hero… without me. I destroyed whatever drink I had in my hand (don’t worry, probably a soft drink) and ran to the exit, quick as a cat. But when I got outside Mike disappeared; Weatherfield’s answer to Keyser Söze, like that he was gone.

‘Where’s Mike Baldwin gone?’ I said, adrenaline beating through me like a rock song.

‘That wasn’t Mike,’ one friend said then took a drag off his cigarette.

‘‘I know Coronation Street Mike when I see him and that was Coronation Street Mike,’ I replied.

‘It wasn’t, it was just someone who looked a bit like him,’ another chipped in.

‘He didn't look that much like Mike, it was just some middle aged bloke in a grey suit,’ someone else added.

Were my friends trying to protect me because I missed out? Maybe I was mistaken, perhaps it wasn’t Mike Baldwin after all? I couldn’t know for sure. I do know this though; if I’d have been smoking I’d know the facts. To this day, some ten years later I still don’t have concrete answers . At the time, all those years ago, it felt like I was being punished for trying to improve upon my health. I was shackled in my own non-smoking hell. Was it Mike Baldwin or wasn't it?

In addition to feeling lonely and potentially missing out on Mike (or at the very least his doppelgänger), if you avoid smokers then you’re not really putting yourself into your natural environment. Face the facts buddy, as a recovering smoker, you’re going to be put into contact with smokers at some stage. It’s nature’s way, you better be ready for the test when it comes.

I lasted three months without smoking, scuttling away whenever someone sparked up a cigar. For some reason, I thought because I’d lasted three months I’d cured myself, I'd overcome all temptations. To pat myself on the back I went to a party, this party had it all: a sausage roll buffet, nibbles including Nic Nacs and Pringles, and even Smarties; little did I know that this party would be my downfall.

At this fantastic party, I noticed a fair amount of the guests were outside smoking so I went to say hello. Be rude not to, after all I hadn’t smoked in months so I didn’t see any problem. I was three months smoke free, I’d cured myself completely of my nicotine addiction. Mid way through my party networking I felt my eyes drawn to each person’s cigarette. I kept on gulping and could feel myself wanting a cigarette. How could this be? I was cured after all. But my cravings kicked in. POW - take a puff, Richard; CLONK – smoke that cigarette; BOOF – one won’t hurt, you deserve a treat, Dude. My body started to tremble, knees quivered and my arms spasmed like I’d done a beast of a dumb bell work out whilst under the influence of Creatine. I couldn’t resist, my cravings won. By the end of the night I’d smoked as many as four! I was back to my old bad boy ways.

So where did I go wrong? Simple really, I’d replaced my memories of smoking at home and work with not smoking. However, as a non-smoker I wasn’t used to being in the company of smokers and I hadn’t created any new memories for myself hanging out with smokers not smoking. I’m no psychologist but standing with a smoker must have been a trigger, so off I went back to smoking.

I’m not saying go out of your way to be with smokers, but remember smokers are part of the world and you can’t hide from them forever.

Conclusion

Like I say try to avoid my follies, but also keep in mind that failure is part of success. We’re all different in how we quit smoking. Some people can just wake up one morning and quit (of course these people are in the minority), but me, quitting has been a journey. Yes, it has been a nightmare and yes I have fallen off the wagon, but I’m glad it was a nightmare and I’m glad I fell off the wagon. Wouldn’t life be boring if everything was easy? I love not being an addicted smoker, but I only love not smoking because of the amount of times I have fallen flat on my face tripping over a cigarette butt. If you are thinking of quitting then please give it a try, even if you fail it’s part of your journey to succeeding.

Additional

If you have a mental health diagnosis and would like to talk to someone about improving your health whether it's exercise, diet or even quitting smoking, feel free to call me on 07980 730 484. Alternatively, you can get in touch with us by filling in the contact us form at the bottom of our home page. While I’m throwing out resources for you I can recommend (from personal experience) the NHS Quit Squad, the staff there are accomplished at light hearted chatter about the weather and general chit chat, but when push comes to shove they get serious and can effectively work with you to confront your smoking habits. Here’s a link to the NHS Quit Squad site if you would like to give their site a scan, they're brilliant.

Finally to the important bit: in the somewhat unlikely event that Mike Baldwin is reading this, please can you let me know if you were the person who was smoking with my friends. I think it was around 2007 if that helps you remember.