It’s a little after eight on a Thursday evening, and I’m thinking how nice it would be to kick a bad habit. It’s on my mind because yesterday I posted an article about being authentic in which I admitted to having an addiction to nicotine. It’s not cocaine or heroine, but it’s still an addiction.
Unlike many smokers, I didn’t start when I was in high school. My addiction began one night during my college years when I thought it would be funny to smoke one of my friend’s Virginia Slims. Virginia Slims are the cigarettes specifically created for the young, professional woman. That was the joke. Get it? I wasn’t a professional or a woman. Har dee har har. Hack hack hack.
Wait. Stop the presses. I had no sooner finished writing the last line of the previous paragraph when Carol presented me with (Drum roll, please.) the Ash Grabber, a device designed to neatly capture your cigarette butts once you’ve finished sucking the tar out of them.
You see, I don’t smoke in our home. I smoke outside on the patio, the same place where I often sit and read and think. And Carol, bless her heart, is tired, I suppose, of my using one of our coffee mugs as an ashtray.
That’s the problem with an addiction. People begin to accept it. Oh well, that’s Ken. He’s a smoker. I think I’ll buy him an Ash Grabber.
She meant well. She had no idea I was writing about this. Now, I’m sitting here looking at the thing and wondering if I can’t put it to better use, perhaps as a reminder of who I don’t want to be, or better yet, who I do.
What I want to be is free, and I’ve already written about that. I wrote about how being mildly creative is all about swinging your way to freedom. But to swing your way to freedom, you have to set the vine you’ve been clinging to in motion.
I’ve had all my focus on the things I want to start doing and I’ve become fairly adept at beginning. But now, I realize that when you’re trying to STOP doing something, to end some bad habit you wish to be rid of, you have to begin by being honest.
I’ve been hiding my nicotine addiction from all my new friends, the ones who’ve been supporting me, talking with me on the phone, and leaving encouraging comments ever since I began to write and post on a regular basis. I’ve told them a lot of things about myself, but I’ve never told them that. No. Not that.
I wanted to kick this habit on my own. I wanted to put it behind me and never mention it until long after I’d killed it and buried it.
But as long as I was hiding it, I felt stuck. I felt phony. I felt afraid. Who, I thought, would want to read anything written by a guy who can’t even kick a filthy little habit like smoking, especially anything he had to say about growing and changing and creating?
My vine’s been standing still. I’ve been clinging to it with one hand, placing a cigarette to my lips with the other, and praying that no one saw me dangling there.
One of the principles of being mildly creative is to share and collaborate, and when it comes to kicking this habit, I’ve been doing anything but that.
But now that I’ve told you, now that I’ve written about it and posted it for anyone to see, I can ask for your help. I can ask for your encouragement. I can ask for your support. And for those of you who know me well, perhaps I can call you and just talk when I’m tempted to light up.
Why do I feel lighter? Why am I already breathing a little easier?
This is Accountability 101. When you have a problem and you keep it a secret, no one can help you solve it.
I’ve often heard that the reason you make yourself accountable is so people can hold your feet to the fire. But maybe a better reason is so people can hold your hand as you make your way through it.
{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }
Not sure if this would help you or not, but the way I stopped was to get hypnotized. I went with a friend, it was a one time meeting, an evening in a huge hotel ballroom with hundreds of people, really not my usual scene. All I remember is spreading blankets out on the floor and playing music and watching a screen plus the hypnosis guy talking and talking. At the mid-time break we went outside and we “smoked our last cigarette” and threw the rest away in the trash. But it worked. Or something. I’m not really sure exactly. But the event marked a sort of rite of passage, a change mark in my life. So then I spent three days sick in bed getting over it all, I suppose. Then it took about a year of nearly pulling my hair out and threatening to run screaming down the road. From that day on though I can not stand the smell of cigarette smoke. Go figure. But what I am suggesting is that maybe a rite or ritual or something would help you. And maybe hypnosis if you are into that kind of thing. And also, admitting it is hard but deciding to do it is a great thing! Good luck!!!!
I’ve actually been hypnotized a couple of times. The first time I went with my father and two of his friends. The three of them never smoked again and I quit for a year but started up again during a particularly stressful time, thinking I could just – smoke – one.
The second time I tried it, it did nothing for me. But there was a big difference between the two hypnotists. I think you really have to want to quit for any method to help.
Here’s the funny thing. I haven’t smoked one all evening which is unusual.
Oh, Ken, I was a committed customer of Virginia Slims for several decades. I grew to hate smoking and sneaking around, but the thought of quitting left me on the verge of tears. Futile attempts at quitting left me in actual tears. What a toughie. However, I’ve been a non-smoker for over a decade and consider it a major achievement. As a starting point, I recommend you track down a copy of Joe Cruse’s’ nifty new book, I DON’T SMOKE. He has a new approach to quitting that’s getting positive attention. In fact, he just won an award from a professional organization.
He’s also a really nifty guy who understands addiction and has been on a mission to help others shed theirs, just as he shed his own. Put me on the cheering squad. I know you can do this.
Thanks, Barbara. You’re like a walking search engine for books.
The 9th of July will be my 1st year anniversary of quitting. After trying everything possible over my 25 year habit I tried Champix (Chanix) and I have indeed quit. I still love to smell people smoking though so my new bad habit is to enjoy sniffing other peoples bad habits
However my urge to smoke has all but vanished.
I must add that I was successful reasonably quickly after buying a “Butt Bucket”, I’m thinking Carol may of assured your success by gifting you with a “Ash Grabber”
We’re still laughing about the name of the product and the timing of its presentation. I tried Chantix but it made me exceedingly nautious. I’m not sure what precise method is going to do the trick. I think it’s more a matter of preparing my mind, but I can tell you that simply admitting I’m struggling has resulted in me smoking far less over the past couple of days.
I must confess I needed to take anti-nausea medicine for a few weeks and it stopped me sleeping for a while too. As with life it’s different horses for different courses. The key for me I think was indeed the right mindset. I also gave myself permission to feel what I needed to feel, think what I needed to think and in some ways grieve. Looking forward to reading how that struggle is morphing into success!
Best of luck (and support!) on quitting. I’ve never been there but I’ve watched a dear friend struggle with quitting for years.
And thanks for the post. Interesting that Tentative Equinox sent me over (http://tentativeequinox.wordpress.com/2009/07/01/wahoo-wednesday-dang-i-wish-i-wrote-that-edition) (Sorry, I think I missed Formatting 101.) and I find this post — I’ve got a different issue to deal with.
That reminds me of a quote, but I can’t find it. It goes something like, “Always be exceedingly kind because everyone you meet is engaged in some kind of struggle.”
It’s Plato. “Be kind. Everyone you meet is in the midst of a great struggle.”
Thanks to @toutsweet on Twitter
Hey, I just found your blog through a RT and think you are very corageous to finally accept to others that you have a problem. I think that is another good reason for accountability, that you can finally find the courage to face yourself as you are and show yourself to the world. To tell it that you are not perfect, that you also struggle, but that you at least have the courage and strength to not hide yourself anymore.
I wish you the best man, and keep on going!
What a brilliant post! It was moving as well.
As a person who has lost over 150lbs, I understand the concept of addiction. I also have a healthy (hah! get it?) respect for anyone who kicks a bad habit. People who have never done it have NO idea how hard it is.
Hi. I’m a new friend, just met you a couple hours ago on your “authentic” post, and I wanted to say that I support you. In whatever you do.. whether you try to quit, whether you don’t. Whether or not you succeed. Kudos for owning up to it, though.
Great lesson in authenticity, huh?
For the record, I don’t smoke. Tried to start a habit, it never stuck. I have far more shameful habits, like passive/aggressive behavior. But anyway, my husband of 20 years smokes. And I’ve seen the struggle. It’s tough. And most definitely a lot harder if you’re beating yourself up about it. Maybe you can at least let go of that.
Peace.
OK, little bro – you can do this. I smoked from age 15 until 50. Virginia Slims and all those skinny menthol things that supposedly weren’t hurting me. I actually quit one New Year’s for about 3 months until I hit a stressful time with a teenage son. I thought I had to start again to de-stress but in reality, it speeds up your heartbeat, increases your adrenaline and does everything but calm you down. I finally just quit one day. No Wellbutrin, no nicotine gum, no patches – those never worked for me. I just thought hard about all the negatives like: your hair stinks; your clothes stink; you are doing possibly permanent harm to the body you are in charge of; it’s a really stupid habit for an intelligent person; it costs a lot of money; it makes a mess everywhere (ashgrabbers get really stinky and nasty); you know better; you want better for yourself; you want to set a good example for your children; you want your wife to kiss you more
; you can quit doing this – it’s just a habit. I made lists of all these things and posted them everywhere. I got a jar to deposit my “cigarette money” in every time I didn’t buy a pack a day and when it got up to $60, I made an appointment for a massage. It took a couple of months of cutting back but in the end, it worked. I kept one unopened pack around for about two weeks and when I didn’t open it, I made a ceremony of throwing it in the garbage. Make it a game to see how long you can go without one and when you are about to give in, give yourself 10 more minutes. Keep telling yourself that you are the one in control, not those stupid ciggies. In absolute emergencies, call me – I’ll be your sponsor! (I’m at the lake for the summer so I’ll send my cell # separately). Luv ya, J
I apologize for not responding sooner to all the wonderful support and suggestions. I just came off a weekend of double shifts.
One thing that I’ve realized is that quitting smoking is in line with one of my core values: freedom. I’m about to declare my independence.