I was right, I did miss out quite a bit in my first post...
Like I said in my first post, my first attempt at quitting was in the summer of 2005 when I was 19. It was as a result of passing out in my local bakery after my first cig of the day. A few weeks previously to this, I had nearly passed out from my first cig of the day and it was getting embarrassing! I'm a fiend for licorice so I choce the licorice flavour of gum but found myself hardly using it. I knitted like a crazy lady for the first week of quitting as I hoped to make myself a patchwork blanket to keep me warm when I went away to uni but it was a very busy summer and never got finished. That summer, I had an amazing job where I was to all intents and purposes doing EVERYTHING in an office. The lady I worked for ran her business from home so she smoked in her office and I loved it! The smell seemed to help as I had been so accustomed to second hand smoke as my mum has always smoked.
I cracked on that first attempt when I saw the guy I was having a fling with cheat on me by kissing one of my friends. I don't think I smoked those two cigarettes because I wanted the nicotine but because I wanted a comfort blanket. It's sad really. The worst part is that he had a little girl of about two or three with a previous girlfriend and he SWORE on her life that he hadn't kissed my friend. I saw him with my own eyes. I wont go into the details but I took my revenge and publically humiliated him.
I completely went back to smoking because I re-broke up with my boyfriend of four years (I had the fling after we broke up earlier in the summer). I think then I was on a downward spiral of self destruction and declared that I didn't want to go to uni. Again, I didn't necessarily want the nicotine, just the comfort of something familiar and the immense high of the Marlboro Reds.
When I look back on this first attempt, I can tell that I was never serious and it was only going to take one thing to go wrong for me to go back onto the cigs. In the six weeks I was 'quitting', I had two cigs but I wasn't doing well enough. It's a pity as I don't think I was that addicted comparatively.
My second attempt(s) happened at uni. After the 'success' of the summer, I thought I could try again once things had settled down a little. I didn't contact my local doctors about it and started using the gum I had left over but realised that the nausea was caused by the gum and not the hangovers I had experienced over the summer so gave up after a few days. A few weeks later I tried again cold turkey after seeing a documentary on the television about a five day detox program for ...... addicts which was very successful. Coupled with this, I saw a five minute film about a guy with a traceotomy which he needed as a result of smoking. I figured if people could get off ......, I could get off a little thing like cigarettes. After wanting to kill one of my housemates (who I now think is one of the loveliest people in the world after she did me a massive favour later that year), I caved again after a couple of days. Thus ended my attempts to quit for a very, very long time. Again, my heart just wasn't in it and I was never going to quit. It was a spur of the moment decision with no planning and no support.
My third attempt and the one I completely neglected to mention occurred in January 2010. As a little explanation, I had commenced my Masters degree and moved into a student house. I checked with my housemates if it would be OK to smoke in my room at the start of the year and they agreed. All was well until January when I was writing my third and final essay of the semester. With 6 hours before deadline and going through my final read-throughs, I walked into the kitchen and was taken in a pincer movement by two of the girls and lecturerd about my smoking. I'd not slept in 24 hours and was exhausted and emotional so I asked if we could discuss it that evening when I'd had a sleep and could forumalte a sentence but they kept on coming at me. As is usually the case when someone lectures you about smoking, I went straight for the cigs and sat in my room and cried for a good while. The atmosphere in the house became intollerable but I continued to smoke in my room as I felt trapped in there. I literally couldn't face them so even walking outside for a cigarette, despite my room being on the ground floor was impossible. I wouldn't even go and make myself a cup of tea or a meal when I knew they were in the kitchen- and anyone I know will tell you that I love tea. They retaliated and made the situation infinitely worse by turning off the heating when I was in and turning it back on when I left the house. This was a particular problem as my room had French windows backing onto the conservatory and this was one of the coldest winters I've ever experienced with snow blizzards through December to February. The on/off switch was in one of their bedrooms so I had no chance of even turning it on. The atmosphere and the cold were intollerable so I made the decision to move out. I found a room on campus where I knew I couldn't smoke in my room and packed up my belongings in one night and didn't bother to inform them of my move.
Safely in my new room, I unpacked and made plans to speak to my pharmacist about quitting. He was very helpful and suggested a combination of methods- patches and the inhalator. I don't think I could make it for 24 hours without cracking! I found the patches difficult because if I had a shower, that little layer or water that remains on your skin, no matter how roughly you dry your arms/legs/hips/wherever you're putting it, it would slip off. A lovely friend of mine tried strapping one onto my arm with self adhesive tape- tape that only sticks to itself- and I am reliably informed that it is used in bondage! Unfortunately, I looked like I was in mourning with a black band around my arm. The inhalator did very little for me too... it was totally lacking the throat hit and I felt like I looked like I was sucking on a tampon! Naughty as I am, I discovered that I could smoke in my room with the window open and a plug-in air freshner on constantly and I smoked away happily until the end of the year.
Like I said in my first post, my first attempt at quitting was in the summer of 2005 when I was 19. It was as a result of passing out in my local bakery after my first cig of the day. A few weeks previously to this, I had nearly passed out from my first cig of the day and it was getting embarrassing! I'm a fiend for licorice so I choce the licorice flavour of gum but found myself hardly using it. I knitted like a crazy lady for the first week of quitting as I hoped to make myself a patchwork blanket to keep me warm when I went away to uni but it was a very busy summer and never got finished. That summer, I had an amazing job where I was to all intents and purposes doing EVERYTHING in an office. The lady I worked for ran her business from home so she smoked in her office and I loved it! The smell seemed to help as I had been so accustomed to second hand smoke as my mum has always smoked.
I cracked on that first attempt when I saw the guy I was having a fling with cheat on me by kissing one of my friends. I don't think I smoked those two cigarettes because I wanted the nicotine but because I wanted a comfort blanket. It's sad really. The worst part is that he had a little girl of about two or three with a previous girlfriend and he SWORE on her life that he hadn't kissed my friend. I saw him with my own eyes. I wont go into the details but I took my revenge and publically humiliated him.
I completely went back to smoking because I re-broke up with my boyfriend of four years (I had the fling after we broke up earlier in the summer). I think then I was on a downward spiral of self destruction and declared that I didn't want to go to uni. Again, I didn't necessarily want the nicotine, just the comfort of something familiar and the immense high of the Marlboro Reds.
When I look back on this first attempt, I can tell that I was never serious and it was only going to take one thing to go wrong for me to go back onto the cigs. In the six weeks I was 'quitting', I had two cigs but I wasn't doing well enough. It's a pity as I don't think I was that addicted comparatively.
My second attempt(s) happened at uni. After the 'success' of the summer, I thought I could try again once things had settled down a little. I didn't contact my local doctors about it and started using the gum I had left over but realised that the nausea was caused by the gum and not the hangovers I had experienced over the summer so gave up after a few days. A few weeks later I tried again cold turkey after seeing a documentary on the television about a five day detox program for ...... addicts which was very successful. Coupled with this, I saw a five minute film about a guy with a traceotomy which he needed as a result of smoking. I figured if people could get off ......, I could get off a little thing like cigarettes. After wanting to kill one of my housemates (who I now think is one of the loveliest people in the world after she did me a massive favour later that year), I caved again after a couple of days. Thus ended my attempts to quit for a very, very long time. Again, my heart just wasn't in it and I was never going to quit. It was a spur of the moment decision with no planning and no support.
My third attempt and the one I completely neglected to mention occurred in January 2010. As a little explanation, I had commenced my Masters degree and moved into a student house. I checked with my housemates if it would be OK to smoke in my room at the start of the year and they agreed. All was well until January when I was writing my third and final essay of the semester. With 6 hours before deadline and going through my final read-throughs, I walked into the kitchen and was taken in a pincer movement by two of the girls and lecturerd about my smoking. I'd not slept in 24 hours and was exhausted and emotional so I asked if we could discuss it that evening when I'd had a sleep and could forumalte a sentence but they kept on coming at me. As is usually the case when someone lectures you about smoking, I went straight for the cigs and sat in my room and cried for a good while. The atmosphere in the house became intollerable but I continued to smoke in my room as I felt trapped in there. I literally couldn't face them so even walking outside for a cigarette, despite my room being on the ground floor was impossible. I wouldn't even go and make myself a cup of tea or a meal when I knew they were in the kitchen- and anyone I know will tell you that I love tea. They retaliated and made the situation infinitely worse by turning off the heating when I was in and turning it back on when I left the house. This was a particular problem as my room had French windows backing onto the conservatory and this was one of the coldest winters I've ever experienced with snow blizzards through December to February. The on/off switch was in one of their bedrooms so I had no chance of even turning it on. The atmosphere and the cold were intollerable so I made the decision to move out. I found a room on campus where I knew I couldn't smoke in my room and packed up my belongings in one night and didn't bother to inform them of my move.
Safely in my new room, I unpacked and made plans to speak to my pharmacist about quitting. He was very helpful and suggested a combination of methods- patches and the inhalator. I don't think I could make it for 24 hours without cracking! I found the patches difficult because if I had a shower, that little layer or water that remains on your skin, no matter how roughly you dry your arms/legs/hips/wherever you're putting it, it would slip off. A lovely friend of mine tried strapping one onto my arm with self adhesive tape- tape that only sticks to itself- and I am reliably informed that it is used in bondage! Unfortunately, I looked like I was in mourning with a black band around my arm. The inhalator did very little for me too... it was totally lacking the throat hit and I felt like I looked like I was sucking on a tampon! Naughty as I am, I discovered that I could smoke in my room with the window open and a plug-in air freshner on constantly and I smoked away happily until the end of the year.
