A year ago last night...

A year ago last night I smoked my last cigarette, tossed the butt into the campfire, and went to bed. The next three months were hell. I gained 25 pounds over the first four weeks mostly because I bought 3lb bulk bags of Rocket candies. I liked unrolling them from the cellophane. I liked popping them into my mouth, one at a time, and feeling them fizzle and melt on my tongue--tiny bursts of pleasure to replace the quick fix of a cigarette.

I dutifully continued my Champix prescription--the smoking-cessation drug that stole the pleasure from nicotine. Knowing that even if I did sneak a smoke it would do nothing for me, certainly helped keep me from temptation. Although I imagined (and often dreamed) about the relaxation,the stimulation, the comfort, the pain-relief that I'd get from dragging on a cigarette, filling my lungs, and exhaling—the reality was--I'd get no comfort.

Soon, Rockets no longer comforted me, either. The first six months were a continuous battle to find a replacement for cigarettes, a desperate seeking for something to fill that empty, cold, black hole in my gut, my soul, my life.

Excercising, forums/information/support at http://www.quitnet.com/ , pacing, eating, yoga, deep-breathing, family visits, phone calls, hikes, anti-depressants, bubblebaths, wonderfully supportive friends and family.

I create a website, learned to Tweet, began blogging, wrote novels, queried agents,and, yes, signed my very first publishing contract. “Schrodinger’s Cat”, a novella to be released by Wolfsinger Publications in both print and ebook format in 2011, is the fufilment of a childhood dream.

I’ve overcome my agony. I’ve learned, grown, stretched, cried, smiled and laughed. I’ve succeeded. All without the “help” of nicotine. There is a life beyond the butt. I still struggle with weight. Struggle with cravings. Struggle with the emptiness.

The best motto for me is that I can, at any time I want to, light up again. I don't, because I choose not to. That’s an important choice that others under control of the nicotine demons, don’t have. I’m free and intend to remain so.

I donated the first $1,000 I saved to the Haitian Red Cross earthquake relief and the second $1,000 to the Pakistan flood relief effort. It’s neat that so many have benefited from my quitting. It’s incentive for me to keep quit. Someone somewhere in the future is going to need monetary help and I’d feel pretty badly if I’d already wasted those needed dollars on a senseless harmful pleasure.

Thanks, guys for your unfailing support. Share with me in celebrating a full year free from cigarettes.

To join me in supporting the Red Cross Pakistan relief effort visit my personal Red Cross fundraising page http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=936168

Or visit my website http://www.eileenschuh.com/books-free-reads/ where I’m offering donors a free short story. Links to various charities precede “A Nepaterian Visitation”.

My Quit Smoking diary starts here: http://eileenschuh.blogspot.com/2009/08/on-addiction.html

Eileen Schuh,Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

Beware: The power of your pen

I've been Quit 68 days. Saved $448.80. Salvaged 7 days, 17 hours of my life.

I get those stats from the Quitnet website which includes discussion forums for quitters, expert advice, links to personal advisers, a buddy system--lots of good stuff. I enjoy this site because not only does it support my quit, but it's a chance for me to help others who are quitting. (http://www.alberta.quitnet.com/)

I'll let the following excerpt from an email I wrote to my good friend and confidante, C**, relate what happened next....

Hi, C**

I managed to antagonize users of another forum--my Quitnet forum! I have a fellow quitter accusing me of trying to lure ex-smokers back to cigarettes!

Sheesh! What does he think I am? A nicotine demon hired by the tobacco companies to infiltrate Quitnet and lure back their customers? What the hell? It upset me. Lots. Remember I advised you that one should only hand over the power to hurt to those we respect? I didn't follow that advice.

I have spent lots of time on the Qnet forums offering support and encouragment, so the one time when I seek advice and encouragement and get shot down like that.... I guess I ought to have had more of a sense of humour about it. [Writing emails to you always sparks that possibility.] Actually, for the first time since it happened, I'm finding myself giggling about it. Thanks, C**, for giving me that perspective.

What happened was I wrote an email to Qnet's experts saying I only had a couple of weeks left on my Champix prescription and was scared I'd go back to smoking once it ran out. I was told (among other tidbits of advice) that to be a successful quitter I had to stop believing cigarettes were pleasurable. This startling advice was akin to being told I would inherit a billion dollars as soon as I believed the ocean wasn't salty...

So, that was the question I posed on Quitnet: had anyone out there been able to come to believe that cigarettes aren't pleasurable? Surprisingly (to me), there are many who have and many who believe this is a prerequisite to successful quitting.

One lady responded that since I hadn't believed cigarettes were pleasurable before I became addicted, it was just a matter of returning to that state of mind. To which I replied, it was not all that simple a step for me as I had found cigarettes pleasurable long before I took my first puff-- and in rather flowery, powerful language explained how as a child I'd been entranced by my father's smoking habit.

Do you suppose it was that wonderful piece of prose--describing slender swirls of blue twirling up the sunbeams...the contented look in my father's eyes...the wondrous aroma when he opened a fresh can of tobacco--

D'ya think that's what made him suspect me of infiltrating????

Thanks, C**. It now seems totally humorous to me.... No more tears...
---------------
I had intended my Qnet words to communicate my powerful affinity to nicotine. I thought if others better understood my addiction they'd be able to offer me more appropriate advice and encouragement. It was all about me.

Until I wrote the above email to C**, I had not considered the effect my alluring words might have on a community of people trying to quit.

Writers--always keep your readers in mind. Beware: The power of your pen...


Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

Pangs, Pains, & Panic

Twenty-two smoke-free days and it strikes me that if smoking is like Twittering, quitting is like being in labour. The cravings--intense, painful, and raw--like contractions, come and go. Quitting smoking, like labouring, has positive results--that reportedly are well-worth the agony. However, that's about where the similarities end.

There's no one here to give me demerol, morphine, or a spinal to ease the pain when I'm in the throws of a craving. There's no one to assure me that the doctor won't let the cravings continue for more than 18 hours. There's no one rubbing my back, telling me that I'm half-way through my craving, and begging me to hang in there.

No one saying, "Breath deep. Keep breathing."

Two things kept me from panicking in the labour room. One was timing my contractions and knowing when I was half-way through them. The other was realizing that women for eons had being doing this and, therefore, I would too.

Knowing that the cravings will pass, provides a bit of comfort, but knowing others have successfully quit smoking doesn't help me much--because I also know that unlike labour, many have tried and failed. If three hours into labour a woman could change her mind and opt out of the pregnancy plan, we likely wouldn't have an over-population problem. However, in the quest to quit smoking, there is a choice. And everyone who tries to quit knows there is. That choice results in a hell of a lot more people failing in their attempt to quit than succeeding. I cannot comfort myself with the knowledge that all this pain is guaranteed to result in success.

I'm panicking. For over three weeks I've engaged in a distracting, agonizing, personal, and lonely battle with the nicotine demons. It's a battle I'm imagining will last forever. Again and again my soul will scream out for comfort. For years, I'll be restlessly wandering the house, empty and dark inside. Forever, I'll hear demonic voices whispering tales about the pleasures of 'Players.'

An endless battle I'm not assured of winning. The enticing option to retreat always there. No ointment to soothe my wounds. No deadline to win the war. Pangs, pain, and panic.

DOES ANYONE OUT THERE HEAR MY PAIN?

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

Quest to Quit Smoking

My pre-planned quit date was September 1st.

I was on a road trip to Alaska with two friends and my husband as the days ground toward that dreaded last cigarette. Champix, the smoking cessation drug, built up in my system as the miles slipped behind us. I struggled to cut back on the amount I smoked and ended up smoking more as I desperately sought comfort from cigarettes which were no longer offering that pleasure. I crocheted, I laughed, I drank wine, watched grizzlies, and took photos of glaciers.

On the fifth day of taking Champix, 22 August 2009, I wrote in my diary. "Concentrated on pleasures from other sources: the kiss of my puppy, beautiful scenery, laughter of friends, beautiful flower baskets, the crunch of a Smarties' candy shell and the smooth chocolate beneath. The bite of dark roasted Arabic coffee. I feel better to have taken some conscious and deliberate steps to wean myself, rather than passively waiting for the pills to 'cure' me. Gives me a sense of control participation and counters the panic I feel when I contemplate life without cigarettes. If I quit Champix, cigarettes would again give me pleasure. However, the nicotine demons would demand my health and dollars in exchange for their service. I don't want that.

I realize the instant, on-demand spurts of nicotine pleasure have dulled many legitimate opportunities to experience positive emotions. Not only through the addiction aspect, ("Here, take the grandson. I need a smoke!") but also by dulling the senses of smell and taste. These two senses are closely linked to memory. I think of being a child and inhaling the smell of rain, dew on roses, frogs. Sharp cheese, fresh mown hay...spontaneous pleasures. Gifts: no sacrifices needed."

Day 11, 28 August 2009: "Have done well cutting back. Had 5 cigarettes all day. Cravings, if resisted, vanish in 5-10 seconds. Cravings only happen every 3-4 hours."

Day 14, 31 August 2009: "Felt depressed, as if saying farewell to a friend who for years has been there to comfort me. Have difficulty concentrating on good things about not smoking. Had about 4 cigarettes today. In the evening, I throw my last one into the campfire embers. I contemplate how one simple decision (to quit Champix) could bring back my friend. I do not feel at all like celebrating. I mention it to no one."

September 1st: Quit Day: "Over-riding feeling of depression throughout the day. Past traumas and tragedies mull around in my brain. Can I live with bad memories and current stresses without nicotine?"

September 2nd: "Awake to rain and puppy piddle on the mattress at my feet. No showers in this campground. Remnants of weird, busy dreams. It's so cold. Cravings are frequent and intense--but short-lived. I'm prickly with my friends. Moody. Quiet. Depressed."

September 3rd: "Wake in a more cheery mood. Today I feel better, stronger, more committed. This morning my mouth felt cleaner--the first advantage of non-smoking I've experienced. I wish I wasn't travelling so that I could engage in more exercise and have easier access to healthy snacks. Bought a 4-pound sack of Rockets candies. I don't fit any of the jeans I've packed."

September 4th: "Dark, bottomless emptiness into which 100 sour candies, a steak supper and two pieces of apple pie fall. Coffee and Irish Cream. I'm never sated, never full. I could eat forever. Sugar, caffeine, alcohol. Deep breaths of mountain air, long hikes. Four pounds of Rockets. Half a jug of white wine. 14 hours of sleep. Nothing is ever enough. Nothing fills the emptiness."

September 5th: "Coffee and cream liqueur. Two-hour hike through mountain muskeg. Fall colours, red berries, green moss, blue lakes, quiet. Friends. Hot sun. Slow nagging headache. An afternoon nap turns bad. I can't wake up for supper. Tired. So tired. Tummy stirs. Eyes close. Day 5. Yes. I can do it."

September 6th: "If I knew cigarettes would give me pleasure, I'd fall for the temptation. It's the bane of the addict--the drug always calls..."

Today, 12 September 2009, is my 12th smoke-free day. It has not been easy. It is not getting any easier. I feel like a baby that's lost its soother, a toddler bereft of her teddy bear, a child letting go her mother's hand to step into the classroom on her very first day of school.

Friends, I've been there, done all that, grew through it all and survived. We all know that this time will be no different.

Check out some tobacco trivia at http://www.eileenschuh.com/did-you-know/

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

Day #3: Guilty Pleasure

Even though my quit date isn't until 1 September, I feel guilty about continuing to smoke. It seems odd that as I tell people I'm quitting, I'm lighting up.

I'm in a better mood today. Champix lost its edge and the damned cigarettes were half-assed pleasurable again. I guess that's why the dosage doubles on day #4 and again on day #8.

According the product insert from Pfizer, the manufacturer of Champix, "...it is not known exactly how the drug works in people." [Leaving me to wonder if it is known how it works in rats--just kidding. Their wording sounded strange to me, though.]

"Champix," the brochure says, "does not contain nicotine, but it has been shown to affect the nicotine receptor that is thought to be most related to smoking addiction....it acts like a weaker version of nicotine, and also blocks nicotine from getting to the receptor because it binds more tightly..."

I feel like I should be doing more than popping a pill. When I light up, I wish I'd resisted at least a little bit. I wish I'd kept up with my "Track a Pack" log--perhaps I am smoking less and don't know it. I've noticed my cigarettes often end up dead and only half-smoked in the ashtray. Yesterday, several times I paused in my websurfing, Twitter-learning, tweet-sending, and discovered my cigarette had gone out in my hand.

That NEVER used to happen! My cigarettes got smoked right down to the filter--every time without fail! After all, they cost way too much to waste!

Could it be this easy? Will I go to bed on September 1st and realize I didn't have a cigarette all day? Will there be no struggle? No pain? Will cigarettes just become unimportant to me?

It doesn't seem right that I don't have to pay with the agony of withdrawal for my sin of having smoked for thirty-odd years. Or, that I don't have to recommit to not smoking a hundred times each day, every time the Nicotine Demons whisper.

I'm taking a bit of a break from cyberspace to concentrate on a project. I thank you all for your support and when I come back, I'll update you on the joys of being a non-smoker.

Think of me on September 1st. I'll be thinking of you, and those thoughts will keep me strong!

Cheers!

The hero in my Back Tracker series struggles to quit smoking--a habit he picked up when working uncover with The Traz biker gang.

Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
http://www.eileenschuh.com/

On Addiction...

A week ago I decided to quit smoking. Last Thursday, I filled my Champix prescription and on Friday, rifled through the bag of stop-smoking goodies that the doctor gave me. A toothbrush, a pack of gum, a toy...954 brochures. Yesterday, I opened the pharmacy bag and looked at the Champix pills.

This morning, I ripped the cellophane off a new pack of smokes, took a drag, and settled back to read the literature.

"Studies show," one pamphlet says, "that nicotine is as addictive as heroin or cocaine." I wonder if that tidbit of trivia is supposed to make me feel better or worse about my decision.

I'm relieved to discover that I'm not supposed to quit until 10 to 14 days into the pills. When I take the first dose, I'm to set my quit date and announce it to the world. In the meantime, I'm to do thinking exercises, write down why I smoke, why I want to quit, what the advantages are to each. How, through alternate means, I can achieve the advantages of smoking. (Advantages like relieving tension, waking up in the morning, feeling pleasure.)

I butt out, fill my coffee mug, and light another cigarette.

I come up with the idea of blogging a diary about my quitting efforts, like: 'Day #1: finally opened the Champix and swallowed the pill.' The catch is, I'm soon going on a three week vacation, far from any Internet connection. 'Perhaps,' I think to myself, 'I can delay quitting until I get back.'

I'm enough of a veteran quitter to know, however, that it isn't my muses whispering inspiration to me, it's the sinister chuckle of the nicotine demons...

Young people,if you are thinking of smoking or have started smoking, let me tell you about the Nicotine Demons. It's they who plant the idea in your brain that you're not addicted--you can quit anytime you want to. And when you decide to quit to prove your theory and find yourself lighting up yet one more, it's they who convince you that you didn't really want to quit and therefore, your theory about not being addicted is correct. You can quit anytime--provided you want to.

Yes, the Nicotine Demons. They cleverly disguise their voices as your own thoughts.

I re-read the brochure.... "Studies show that nicotine is as addictive as heroin or cocaine." How can that be? From what I know about those illicit drugs, they deliver a much more intense rush of pleasure than a simple cigarette. I can't see myself raising funds for cigarettes by becoming a prostitute or robbing little old ladies. I certainly wouldn't abandoned my children for the pleasure of a puff. On the other hand, cigarettes are legal and available. What if they weren't?

No, cigarettes don't give you a flush of pleasure. Don't deliver a 'high' to fly you over top of your troubles. Nicotine Demons work their magic in a much craftier manner than that.

In nature, two organisms that bind together for the mutual benefit of both (like lichen which is a fungi and algae), are considered to have a 'symbiotic' relationship. If one organism eventually kills the other, it's called a 'parasitic' relationship. Nicotine bears the face of a willing symbiotic partner--but it is actually a parasite.

The Nicotine Demons invite you to believe that you are in control, that nicotine is your willing slave. If you want to relax, a puff will help you relax. If you want to wake up, it will give you energy. If you want some alone time, it will join you as a silent partner. If you want to socialize, it will boost your partying skills. It will tell you, if you're old, that you look much younger with a cigarette in hand. If you're an adolescent, it will tell you a billow of blue smoke about your head makes you look strong and independent.

Nicotine has even been proven to ease depression. It's an all-purpose drug--except it will kill you in the end.

I finger the card of Champix pills. What if I slither into the blackness of depression? What if I gain weight? What if I don't succeed? What if....

I drop the pills back into the bag. I can't tell which thoughts are mine and which are the disguised voices of the demons.


Eileen Schuh,
Canadian writer
www.eileenschuh.com

for more smoking trivia, visit my website