I'm trying to quit smoking, cold turkey, after 25 years of poisoning my body everyday. I've tried and failed multiple times, but this time will be different. I'm on spring break, the timing's right.

I'm putting this in this forum because... well, because I can...and it certainly doesn't belong in sex and love, or dating or relationships, or even health and fitness really since I'm neither healthy or fit. And I'm not really looking for any help with the project. Not much anybody can do to help me get through this, short of coming by to whack me unconscious for part of the time in an effort to put me out of my misery.

So anyways, I need to have something to do with my hands while I go through this crap and I decided going public might actually up my chance of success. There's something to be said for the accountability factor. It sucks more to fail in front of a room full of people usually than to succumb privately. Point is, and I don't I always seem to have one, I thought this might help to write down my feelings about quitting, and turn it into a story, hence the creative writing choice of forums.

Doesn't it aggravate you that I do that? I write this big long thing and then say "point is...". Why don't I just write the point to begin with and stop wasting our time?

Well, again, it's because I can. It's not my fault if you don't have anything better to do than to sit and read the rantings of a now nicotine deprived brain that's going through withdrawals. If you wanna throw advice my way, have at it. If you just want to laugh at my agony, feel free. If you just want me to shut the hell up, tough. You can skip over one stupid thread can't ya?

It might help me and who knows, maybe I'll actually win the battle this time. I think I teeter on the line between sanity and insanity anyways, kind of like a drunk tightrope walker, so this should be fun. I'm as prepared as I've ever been and about as hopeful as I can be considering my past results.

I've tried damn near everything, and although I had minor success with the patch while I had it stuck to my ankle for three months, I didn't do so well after I removed it. Perhaps it was too far from my lungs to work properly. "Adhere to skin" it prescribed, but the damn thing would slide off seems I was drenched in sweat going through withdrawals, so I stuck it in my sock to keep it pressed up against my skin. You can put it in your bra, but if you don't have hands, you don't wear mittens in the wintertime do ya? So...

Anyways, where was I? My brain is slightly erratic right now. I'm easily distracted and I think I hear strange noises coming from the register under the pool table.

..so the patch didn't work. I decided cold turkey is it, get the crap out in 3 days (I multiplied it by 1.5 because I'm difficult, hence the 108 hrs) and done. It'll suck but it's not like I'm going to completely go off the rails. Plus, if you're already nuts, does the degree really matter? So I'll be temporarily a little more so than usual while the thing that masquearades as a logistics center attempts to employ the ops that have been developed so I can perform the tactical maneuvers necessary to ensure success during the impending foray. I have no clue what I just wrote.

But I think it means I'm about to kick some serious nicotine arse!

Only 104 hours to go!

Good luck Misswright - I did it cold turkey 4 years ago also.

not fun.

Well, I've mentioned this before, but if my grandmother could do it on her 60th birthday, then anything is possible....!!

Good luck!

Row...thanks. Nice to see a case of success.

Lex...if your gram can do it at 60, and my mom did it at 55, I can sure the hell do it at 40!!! It's just going to be a rough 102 more hours.

I think God forgot to throw in the dash of will power when he made me. Threw in quite the hefty sprinkle of optimism though so it's creating quite a comedy within my head.

Me: "I can do this!!!!" said convincingly.

Myself: "Better chance of finding a man and that isn't even in the realm of possibility." said matter-of-factly.

Me: "Shut up. I am so going to do this this time!!!" still said convincingly.

Myself: "Ya can't stay in the house forever. As soon as you step in a store, you're done." in a monotone.

Me: "Do I need to go to a store for anything really? Can't I order just about ANYTHING on line and have it delivered? And the kid will be getting his license in a few months once he passes drivers ed. There's nothing critical I need at the store right away. I can do this." said slightly less convincingly now.

Myself: "HA! See, I got ya wondering now. You can't do it! Don't fight it. You'll spend your whole vacation miserable, you've smoked your whole life, you're a smoker, just friggen smoke and get on with life as you know it. Change schmange. Drop ten or twenty pounds if ya wanna change. Go buy smokes or you're gonna gain weight!" said slyly.

Me: "Oh my God! You're right! WTF was I thinking?" running out to buy smokes.

But then I fight back with some logical reason to justify why I have to stop. It's horrible. I know it's just a decision. Logically, I know this!!!, but it doesn't stop me from craving them. I'm extremely agitated already and it's only been about six hours since I crawled out of bed.

I'm trying to stay busy. The house is clean already, in case I have company, aka paramedics.

I don't have many visitors. In fact, I can count how many people have been to my home in the past year on no hands. Probably 'cause it smells like a fricken ashtray in here. Or maybe because I have no social life, but that's a whole different thread on reclusion.

I think being a recluse makes it harder to quit. I've reached over to grab a smoke half a dozen times in the time it's taken me to type this message. I have to go do something.

I went out yesterday and bought a 3000 piece Pablo Picasso jigsaw puzzle to slap down on the pool table. That should keep me occupied for a day or two!

Hilarious internal debate

Here's a fact for you when your cravings hit - get wet, you can't smoke in the shower!

If I could do it when I was 61 then u can do it.smoked for 40 years so believe me u can do it.

Not true. I have managed to smoke in the shower! Ya just gotta hold it out above your head while you're rinsing your hair. I'm telling ya, I'm addicted to these stupid things! Or was. I won't be anymore if I can get through the next 100 hours!

Funny how "where there's a will, there's a way" applies when I have to try to light the cigarette in hurricane force winds but yet when I'm trying to quit I have about as much will power as Tiger trying to abstain from sex with bimbos.

Crazy I'm telling ya!

I did take a shower though, and it helped kill a few minutes so must be great minds think alike.

And thanks silly. I know it's just a decision we need to make. Congrats on kicking it after that long. I'm getting through this minute by agonizing minute!

Best of luck to you.

Don't worry about the next 100 hours.

Just deal with this moment.

I don't know maybe I'm hallucinating right this minute. I think I heard the cat whisper "smoke now" instead of "meow" a second ago when he just came in from outside and placed a giant muddy paw print on my white shirt.

Fantastic. Something to do for the next three minutes. I love my pets!

I'm about to go kill my teenage son who is constantly bitching because his teammates are killing him in his game. Hellllloooooo. If my teammates were killing me, I'd get on a different team. They apparently don't like you very much. Why is this difficult to figure out? You apparently annoy them as much as you annoy me. Get over it and shut the hell up already or I'll come in there and kill ya myself.

He slammed his door when I calmly explained this concept to him just now. The dog is crashed on the couch oblivious to my steadily growing anxiety!

The headache's started. Less than 100 hours to go. I have Percocet if needed so I'm okay. A drug induced coma will only be attempted if I find myself about to walk through a raging blizzard in a bikini for a pack of smokes. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that.

white knuckle time....I commend you on your efforts! You're a much braver soul than I...if that helps...Good luck to you!

Good luck to you!!!! I have never been a smoker, but most of the people I know smoke; I do hear that it is one of the HARDEST habits to break. Keep up the good work! You will be so much healthier!!!

Thank you! It does help to know that I'm not the only one to think I'm nuts for trying to do this like this!

It's so friggen hard! I don't think people realize how engrained it becomes in your life. I'll never go to a movie again without thinking about having a cigarette before I go in because when you're a smoker, it's an absolute must to have one right before the movie. Just seeing a movie theater triggers the urge.

And while I can avoid going to a movie, or driving by the movie theater, I can't just stop breathing for cripe's sake. Seems smoking's gone hand in hand with that for nearly twenty five years, makes it slightly like trying to bail out the ocean with a teaspoon. Everything and anything triggers the desire, especially as my body is slowly realizing that it's not getting something it's become so accustomed to.

Ever had someone say your name over and over again? It's hard to ignore them for very long! And it gets really annoying whether they're whispering it or screaming it right in your face. Eventually you answer just so they'll shut up. Or you hold out and they go away finally. Depends on who outlasts who. It's kinda like that, except I'm battling myself right now and it's the nicotine depleted brain screaming at the logical half that doesn't want to smoke anymore.

But I can't lose really, if ya think about it, since I'm battling myself. I'm going to do it this time! (Hopefully "it" involves not inhaling carcinogens daily anymore!)

Thanks to all for the support and best wishes. So far so good.

I can really relate to these feelings, ABSOLUTELY! Hang on! And when you just can't anymore...hang on, anyway! You can do this!

Me: As you can see, I've lost it completely. That there is Sigmund, Siggie for short. He's my emergency smoke. I wouldn't be able to quit without him by my side.

He's cute isn't he? How can I smoke him now. He's wearing jeans and a Sox tee shirt for cripe's sake. I can't light his feet on fire!

Myself: But if I have to, I will damnitall! Sayonara Siggie if I get too stressed.

The battle continues.

I know. Life is cruel. I'm torturing myself by chilling with Siggie quite possibly, but I've found in previous trials that not having ANY cigarettes is a recipe for disaster for me. If I keep one cigarette around, then I force myself to recognize that this is a choice I'm making. I can smoke Siggie anytime I want, even if he's cute. Today I choose not to set his *** aflame. Tomorrow he might suffer a horrible death. Who knows.

Why should he be any different than me? I could get struck by a stray asteroid, the Vernon nuclear power plant could have a fatal malfunction and vaporize Vermont, or a psycho killer could sneak through the sliding glass doors tonight. Ya just never know. Today I'm okay, and for the next minute I think he's safe too.

Things change. It's a fact. I can change. I can smoke, or not. I can torch Siggie and live with the failure, or I can go to bed, get up tomorrow and do this all over again, except I'll only have 84 hrs left!! Yippee. I'm so excited I could just wheeze heavily.

I wonder if Siggie will make an appearance in my dreams? Maybe we'll be kicking it at a Sox game with "THE ONE"... a needed, short reprieve from this trip to hell and back in 108 hours. I'm going to bed. Day one done.

Congratulations for getting through day one successfully Misswright!

You might have wanted to kill your son but at least you made it!

Siggie's lucky to be here this morning. He must be a night owl too, 'cause he wouldn't stop hounding me last night. I'd been laying there for hours listening to his nonsense and then he got creative. I think it went something like this at about 3:00am.

Siggie: "Way to go girl. You did it. You quit!"

Me: "Told ya I could do it!" said proudly.
Myself: "It's only been one day. You'll be smoking tomorrow." said matter-of-factly.


Siggie: "You got this thing licked. I bet you wouldn't even like me if ya smoked me right now. Seriously. You'd think I taste gross. You don't need the emergency smoke. You're a non-smoker now."

Me: "I am not smoking you Siggie. Shut up and go to sleep."
Myself: "He's gonna keep yelling all night. Torch his arse now!" said slyly.

Siggie: "No really. I don't mind. I'll sacrifice myself to prove it. You did it! This was the time. You just needed to make up your mind and do it and you did it! You got through the first 24 no problem, 'cause this is like all those other things now. Just decided to stop and you stopped. No sweat. So it's taken ya 25 yrs to really decide to quit. From here on out, you're a non-smoker! You don't need me. You hear me, you're a non-smoker!

Me: "I hear ya Siggie. I'm a non-smoker now!" said proudly still.
Myself: "One day does not a non-smoker make, genius. Smoke him already. A leopard can't change her spots."

Siggie: "Prove her wrong Kristy! Smoke me. Show her you don't need the emergency smoke! You don't need me anymore if you're REALLY a non-smoker. You'd only be saving me if you weren't sure. Are ya sure? Really, really sure?"

Me: wavering now "Wait. I gotta smoke you to prove that I'm a non-smoker? 'Cause if I keep you, then I'm still a smoker really since I need to have the emergency one. If I was really a non-smoker, I shouldn't even need you Siggie, so I should just smoke you to prove that I don't need you, and as a bonus I'll get to see how gross you taste now that I'm a non-smoker."
Myself: "Makes sense to me. Smoke him."

Siggie: starts chanting "smoke me"
Myself: chimes in with "do it!", between beats

creating a torturous little repetitive ditty!

After ten minutes, it's akin to waterboarding my brain. By 3:11am I'm employing my pillow to try and smother Siggie.

Trot saved him by barking at the neighborhood cat sneaking in the sliding back doors to raid the cat dishes. Apparently the pool table poses as a open buffet for every cat in a forty mile radius. I often find strange animals eating the Iams out of the two side by side bowls, unless Trot spots 'em coming in. He won't attack 'em but he does bark a greeting.

I think it's "Hey, welcome to the jungle. Don't mind her, she's a bit crazy." and he does that head tilt thing, which always makes me laugh. Man I love my pets!!! I put Siggie back on the shelf and wrapped myself around the dog and went to sleep.

Day two underway. It sucks worse than yesterday already but I am so doing this.

Thanks Row.

One day at a time. One moment at a time sometimes. Just need to stay busy, busy, busy. Think I'm going to take a walk with the dog. It's nice out today (which means sunny and above freezing) so as long as I walk in the opposite direction of the store, we'll be fine. And I can have hot chocolate when I get back!

I don't know if I was a lucky smoker or unlucky smoker, insofar as I didn't have very many negative symptoms normally associated with smoking. No constant coughing and hacking, no choking up giant phlegm balls, no trouble breathing for the most part.

While I do huff and puff after physical exertion, it's not from smoking; my expanding waistline, compliments of Ben & Jerry, weighs heavily into the equation. When I was thinner, I could run all over and breathe just fine. Smoking didn't really seem to be taking much of a toll on my health, overtly speaking.

Covertly, I know it was wreaking havoc on my lung tissue and killing me slowly. Which is why I'm stopping, or trying to I should say, since I'm not there yet with only about 44 hours down and more than that to go. Hell, I'm not even halfway there!

But I'm further than before. And I'm doing it dammit.

The kid is really getting on my nerves though, and I'm ready to heave that stupid XBox thing out the window if he doesn't stop complaining about getting killed! He's killing me with all his griping! Not that I don't almost wish I was dead right about now, but I'm not giving up and I know it's going to get easier once I get through this initial 108 hours.

I don't expect it to be a walk in the park after that either. I know it'll take a good month or more to really get over the behavioral and psychological addiction that's attached to cigarettes. Finding something to do with my hands seems to be my biggest thing, hence why I'm typing this little story.

I'll figure it out as I go along. Heck, there's gotta be about a thousand better things to do besides smoking. Don't worry, I'm not going to list them all.

Yet.

Kidding. Maybe. We'll see how it goes at three in the morning when Siggie's ranting again. Gotta do what I gotta do to get through this. Typing "1000 things to do besides smoking" might keep me busy for an hour or two!

Obviously I don't have a problem with finding the words. Which is strange since in person I'm about as quiet as a church mouse. Not sure exactly how quiet that is, but I'm thinking he ain't beltin' out the blues at the top of his lungs.

Now that's a funny little thought. Mice singing the blues. I wonder if they have secret clubs. If they do, I hope they're non-smoking.

Day two done.

I'm about as cheery as a death row inmate.

Physically I feel like I got hit by a bus.

It feels like somebody is stepping on my chest. My shoulders are stuck in an elevated position somewhere close to the bottom of my ears. My eyes dart back and forth, and I'm unable to focus on anything for any length of time, which makes watching the Bruins game damn nearly impossible. I shudder for no reason, as if getting invisible shock treatments delivered at random intervals, source unknown. And the headache that started last night has steadily gotten worse. It's now approaching maximum pressure, although it pales in comparison to the slew of migraines I get, so I can cope.

Psychologically it's a thousand times worse. The argument within my head goes on continuously and is for obvious reasons inescapable. I have no choice but to listen, unless I'm sleeping. Thanks be to heaven for that little break, because at least then I get to dream. Interestingly, I've never once seen myself as a smoker in my dreams. Never had a cigarette in my hand that I can recall, which says something in and of itself.

I'm still pretty confident that I can do this. I made it this far, and tomorrow isn't going to be any easier. In fact, I think it'll probably be the hardest day yet. But I gotta look at it this way...

If I can just get through these 108 Hrs, I have a helluva chance at kickin' the habit. Less than 60 hours left. Each hour I make it, I feel a little better about doing it. I'm suffering now but it's going to be worth it when I succeed. I don't want to be a smoker anymore. Simple as that. Except easier said than done also applies. Hence this strange saga unfolding before your eyes. And mine. In fact, I think I see smoke coming from my cat's mouth right now. He just came in and it's probably dropped below freezing by now, but it's still a strange sight that makes me wonder if I'm losing my mind.

At this point, I don't care if I am. I'm saving my lungs and I can always activate the GPS locator system I had installed back in '04 after the debacle following the first Sox championship in 86 years.

But that's a different thread. This one's about getting through the first four and a half days of life without cigarettes following 25 yrs of life with cigarettes.

I'm nearing the half way point and going strong. Siggie's still tucked safely away in the jewelry box drawer, for now. And hopefully it'll be his eternal resting place. A girl can dream.

Which I intend to go do now that day two's done. Back tomorrow with more exciting updates, provided I don't die in my sleep of course. Wouldn't that be a kicker?! Quit smoking and croak the next day. Boy would I be biothching up a storm from heaven. "This was supposed to buy me an extra twenty years Man!! What the hell?"

Day three.

60 Hrs down. 48 to go.

Siggie's still here. He's yelping for attention pretty steadily but I'm doing my best to ignore him.

He hasn't come up with a good enough argument to get me to revert back to the dark side. Though that one about not needing him now, if I was really serious about quitting this time, almost got me. He knew that if I smoked him and didn't have ANY in the house, I'd freak and go buy a pack. Viola, back to smoking. Sneaky little baastard.

But why do I insist on having one cigarette here? Seems counterintuitive. Would an alcoholic keep a baby bottle of Jack nearby when trying to quit? I'm pretty sure the rehab centers nationwide aren't going to run out and adopt my methodology and let the addicts keep their drug of choice sitting on their bedside table.

I don't know. I'm not really normal so it's hard to compare apples and steak.

In my tiny world, keeping the cigarette gives me the comfort of knowing it's there if I really need it, and I'm just choosing not to indulge in my selfish desire right now. Hopefully after 108 hrs I'll have the gunk out of my body and be starting down the road to recovery.

If before I get cruising down that road at a good clip something pops up that just completely derails me, then it's there. Maybe I should think I'd be able to get through anything without a smoke, but the truth is, I don't think I'm that strong yet. I haven't got the back up plan ready for major meltdowns, so I have to keep Siggie for the next month or so. Just in case.

Creepy but effective, and at this point, all I really care about is making it to the goal. How I choose to get there shouldn't much matter, provided I'm not boarding, slashing, or tripping anybody else along the way.

Siggie's yelling so I gotta go crank up the tunes to drown him out. Loud music is excellent therapy I've found!