Seven Ways to Quit Smoking or How Angry Can I Get?

     I was into day five of not smoking and I was feeling edgy and cranky, but after I arrived home one night in a particularly foul mood, I sat down and started to wonder. Had I subconsciously created this bad mood so I could say screw it and pull out a cigarette? Or was my attempt to quit smoking creating my bad mood?  I wondered this as I got on my computer and saw what I had written five days previously: 'Today is my birthday, the first day of not smoking and things are going well, only three little days to get over the worst of it...............'

     I lit the long, stale butt that I found in the ashtray under my bed and continued to read. Nursing an addiction that is supposedly worse than heroin, I thought back to that fateful day when I smoked my first cigarette at the age of ten. 

     I was staying at my cousin's house for two weeks one summer when her friend Martie, who I noticed was very well-endowed for thirteen, came over. My cousin Wendy turned to me and said, 'let's go out to the woods.' In a field behind her house, we sat under a birch tree and Martie took out a dark green pack of Export A from her pocket and offered one to Wendy. After lighting their cigarettes, they looked at me.

     'Would you like one?' Martie asked.

     'Well, I, uh, I don't smoke. I've never smoked.' 

     Martie took a cigarette out of her pack and handed it to me with a caveat.

     'If you're not going to inhale, I'm not going to give you one ever again. I don't want to waste my cigarettes,' she said, with an emphasis on the word waste.

     With that, I nodded in agreement and put the cigarette between my lips. She lit it. Inhaling my first hit of tobacco smoke, I almost passed out, I became dizzy and swooned but I caught myself. Nauseous and light-headed I grinned and said to her, 'I'm okay.'  From that moment, I was a cool member of the smoker's club.

     Every afternoon for the two weeks I was there, Martie came over to the house and we went to the woods to smoke. I was initiated, or more likely, I was getting addicted, if not already addicted. I was a natural. I learned to flick my butts away, curling them between my middle finger and thumb. I smoked right down to the filter because Martie said to never waste her cigarettes. 

     You may think: Was one cigarette enough to get me hooked for 40 years? Was that really the apocalyptic moment that forever colored my life in a haze of blue smoke? Yes, I would say so, although I may have taken up smoking at any other time in my future because my father and my mother smoked, my two sisters smoked and my three brothers smoked. I lived in a houseful of smoke. 

     Forty years and approximately 7,360 packs of cigarettes later, I've compiled a list. If you really want to stop smoking here are some rules to follow:

Rule #One

Never stop smoking for the sake of your kids. Their whining and fighting will lessen your resolve by dinnertime and you'll be yearning for a cigarette by the time you finally get them to bed. 

Rule #Two

Stop drinking if you quit smoking. Smoking and drinking go together like burgers and fries. You can't stop one without stopping the other.

Rule #Three

Go on a diet at the same time you quit smoking.  You will substitute food for cigarettes and we all know how that ends. 

Rule #Four

Never, ever go to a bar and think that you can sit there nursing a coke while others around you are guzzling beer and taking cigarette breaks. 

Rule #Five

Don't ask this question: 'Do you think I could bum a smoke? I just want one.'  Who are you kidding?

Rule #Six

Don't try to quit smoking when you're in the middle of a divorce, break-up or conflict with a close friend, or just generally feeling awful about life, even though quitting itself will make you feel awful about life. 

Rule #Seven

Remember when you quit smoking that you're going to feel down in the dumps. It's a natural reaction. After all, you've been stuffing your feelings and putting tar and nicotine on top of them for years. Go easy on yourself.