THE STEPS TO QUITTING... From unknown
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1. Not interested in quitting at all. Hell, you're just getting
started. Smoking is FUN! It demonstrates to the world how sophisticated
and grown up you are now, and may even make that hunk who sits in the row just ahead of you notice
you.
2. Parents catch you with a package of cigarettes in your purse, and in
spite of your sincere denials, and perfectly believable story about how
someone asked you to hold them in your purse for them, they refuse to believe you and
confiscate them and threaten you with dire results if they catch you
with cigarettes again. You resolve to be more careful, and leave your cigarettes cached under the
cushion on the porch swing. A very small doubt enters your mind--maybe
it would be easier not to smoke? Nah!
3. Your Uncle Tom walks into the malt shop just as you are
demonstrating your skill at blowing smoke rings and French inhaling. He
is not impressed. Your parents, however, when he calls them, are QUITE impressed. To the point where
they ground you for the rest of the school year, and cut your allowance
in half. Again, you consider keeping your solemn promise to your parents and actually not
smoking anymore, but....Nah...you still need to look cool and
sophisticated, and you are not going to let them boss YOU around. After all, you are almost 15!
4. You meet a really nice boy who doesn't smoke. So you gleefully throw
your cigarettes in the river as the two of you cross over the bridge
one sleepy Sunday afternoon. (That's the real truth about Billie Joe McCallister and the
Talahatchee Bridge, by the way.) The romance sours, however, like most
sophomore romances do, and in the first hurt of the break-up, the first thing you do is
buy a pack of smokes. To SHOW him, or something.
5. You graduate from high school and head off to college. Quit smoking?
NEVER! First of all, all the cool people smoke--only nerds and
"goodie-goodies" don't, and God forbid anyone should think you are one of them. And now you
notice something really cool! When you pull an all nighter, studying
for that mid term or writing that term paper, smoking helps you THINK better. True! You
can't think as well when you're not smoking.
6. You meet that certain someone--this is it. You get engaged and plan
for the big day. Chances are, he's a smoker, too, and you may very well
discuss quitting someday, to save for that European holiday or to buy a house.
7. Pregnant! WOW! Gotta quit. Because you KNOW that smoking can't be
good for the baby. But the Doctor doesn't seem too concerned as long as
you don't overdo, and you're feeling a little whoopsy in the mornings, and a
cigarette seems to help that, and you're still working, so you've got
so much to do, and as soon as you quit work you'll quit. But when you try, at the 7 months mark, it
makes you so tense and uptight that you're sure THAT can't be good for
the baby so you decide to quit as soon as he/she is born.
8. New Baby, no job, tight money, car payments, husband gets
transferred...you want me to WHAT????? No way.
9. PREGNANT AGAIN. See above.
10. See Number 8 above.
11. Sink into soap opera hell. Speak in words of one syllable all day
long. Tell husband to look at the "moo cows" on way to adult office
party. Get depressed. Can't give up cigarettes now. Need to climb out of the baby trap.
12. Back to school. No way can you quit now--got to finish this paper,
get the kids ready for school help them with homework, attend the
seminar, do the group project, 4 loads of laundry--need to smoke to stay awake! Husband is
making noises about quitting, but then he's taking up jogging, too. Who
the Hell has time to bloody JOG????
13. Partner quits. Announces it is "EASY". "Hmnnn", one contemplates
from the kitchen whilst clutching the paring knife firmly in one hand,
"perhaps it IS easy, when all one has to do is go to one's nice clean office and sit at
one's nice clean desk, and then come home and don one's nice clean jogging outfit THAT SOME STUPID BOOB WASHED FOR YOU...."...nevermind. You announce that you will
quit smoking when you are ready. After all--you have no other vices,
and in the back of your mind lurks a sneaking suspicion that if you quit
smoking, your dress size will increase inversely as your consumption of
cigarettes goes down. These are the days of Jane Fonda. )(May she rot in Saskatchewan) Given a
choice between being a smoker in size 5 or a non-smoker in size 14,
there is very little choice to make.
14. The kids come home from school and begin to lecture you on the
evils of smoking. You begin to not exactly HIDE your smoking from them,
but try to do it kind of away from where they are. For the first time, one of your kids
announces: "Janet can't come and play here anymore 'cause Janet's mom won't let her play at houses where people smoke!" "Good for Janet's Mom", you mutter, sitting on the john with the fan
blowing full speed, blowing your smoke straight up in the air. "Didn't
like the kid anyway. Had a smart mouth on her."
15. Visit the doctor for annual check up. He/she expresses surprise
that you haven't quit smoking yet. You try to explain all the reasons
why you just CAN'T quit right now, but in the end, beaten down by his/her superior position and
logic, you agree that you will do it. Right then and there. You throw
your package in the garbage can in the examining room and walk out--a better and healthier
woman.
16. Two days later. You realize that you hate your doctor, you have
ALWAYS hated your doctor, and that if you never saw him/her again it
would be quite alright and even too soon, and besides the office is too far away, and its time
you switched Doctors , and "Where are the Goddamned Car Keys so I can
go to the corner Store!!??" Any smart remarks by family members on the resumption of
smoking are met with vitriolic spite, and soon wither away.
17. You begin to notice a cough. A naggy little thing. It comes and
goes, but maybe comes a little more often than it goes. You think about
taking it to the Doctor, but guess what? You haven't GOT a doctor!
18. Get a new Doctor. Someone more understanding. Explain that you know
you need to quit, and you really want to quit, because it is a bad
example for your children, and , and and...could you please have that new chewing gum?
You leave, armed with a prescription for nicorette, and a new
determination.
19. Day one. Nicorette is vile. It is so vile that you cannot imagine
why anyone would feel that chewing this shit is better than smoking.
Margaret from across the street comes over. You bum one from her. Within 36 hours, you are
sending your KIDS across the street to bum cigarettes from Margaret.
This is too embarrassing. You buy Margaret a couple of packs, a couple of packs for
yourself, and store the nicorette in the top of the high dresser drawer
where the kids can't get it. Again, and comments from non-smoking family and friend are met
with spite and malice.
20. Go to bookstore and check out self-help and Pop-psych sections.
Spend $118.96 on books entitled variously: "Quit smoking in just one
week", "I will show you how to quit". "Stopping the cigarette habit", "You, too, can quit
smoking". Justify cost of books in terms of money saved by not smoking.
Place books PROMINENTLY on bedside table. This process fills you with wonderful
feelings of virtue and satisfaction. So much so, that you feel no real
desire to actually read the books. Somehow having them there beside your little pillow is
enough for now.
21. Flu season. You get it. You get it BAD. You get it BIG TIME. Other
people have the flu. You have the Siberian Guaranteed Death Virus.
--(Our motto: "Even if you don't die--- you will WANT to!") Three weeks after everyone else
has recovered and is skiing or wallpapering or something, you are still
coughing and hacking, and clawing at your chest after going up the escalator. Back
to the Doctor.
22. Doctor expresses surprise that you have still not quit smoking. You
assure him/her that you have cut down to practically nothing, and make
a sincere and solemn promise to yourself EVEN AS THE WORDS LEAVE YOUR MOUTH to in fact, do
so. Doctor suggests strongly that quitting will not only help with the
virus from Hell, but will also do something about that sinus condition you
seem to have had since 1972. You leave the office, clutching a
prescription for a high test antibiotic and a pamphlet entitled "A Doctor's Guide to Smoking
Cessation". Once in the car, you carefully place the pamphlet in the
glove compartment where you will be sure to find it when you sell the car.
23. Your 40's approach. You find yourself drawn to television programs
like "Trauma: Life in the ER", and "The Operation". The one where they
remove a lung is especially enlightening. You decide once and for all, this is it. This
has to happen now. Back to the Doctor.
24. Doctor expresses no surprise that you are still smoking. The little
jerk obviously has no faith in you and your promises. Can you have a
proper therapeutic relationship with someone like that? And besides, the office is too far
away. Resolve to find another, more sympathetic doctor, one more tuned
in to the stresses of your life, and further resolve to quit smoking, the INSTANT you find
said doctor.
25. Husband announces he will no longer tolerate smoking in the car,
the bedroom, the family room or the living room. You find yourself
spending a great deal of time shivering on the patio, blowing smoke out the open kitchen window,
and seated, fully clothed, on the john, fan going full blast, blowing
smoke straight up in the air. On the odd occasion, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror,
real or mental, and wonder just where it all went wrong. You appeared,
at one time, to have such promise....
26. Your workplace goes smoke free. Your brothers and sisters announce
they will no longer tolerate smoking in their houses.
27. Your PARENTS announce they will no longer tolerate smoking in their
house.
28. You notice your boss giving you a dirty look as he leaves the
building through the side door, pushing his way past the crowd of
smokers, waving his hand in front of his face in a futile gesture aimed at clearing the air. You
give him a little sympathetic smile, but suspect that somehow he hasn't
quite got the message you wanted to convey. Whatever that was.
29. New Years Party! Yaaaay! Husband announces it is being held at a
non-smoking restaurant. WHOA! BACK THIS BUS UP, BUDDY! I SMOKE!
Long silence while you sulk for 3 days.
A decision is made. No, not the one you are all thinking. The decision
reached after 3 days of mature contemplation is: "Piss on them. If I
can't smoke, I'm not going!"
30. Husband goes to New Year's Eve party alone. (?) You stay home. At 9 p.m. you open a LARGE bottle of champagne and drink it all yourself
while smoking 34 cigarettes, some of them simultaneously. You smoke in every room in
the house, in defiance of edicts issued by sturmfuhrer Herr husband.
31. Husband returns early from party to sight of your flannel clad butt
protruding from the powder room door as, with head in toilet, you sing
your blues and pay your dues for the champagne. The marriage enters a new and somewhat
frightening stage.
32. You burn a hole in your brand new jacket which cost the earth that
your husband bought you to make up for the New Year's Eve fiasco.
33. Your second last smoking friend quits. You are the last person in
your building who smokes. You hear that Arthur, whom you loved
passionately at 13, and with whom you learned to smoke, is dying of lung cancer. That nagging little
cough begins to take on an ominous significance.
34. New Doctor. You go in, dressed professionally and with a sincere
smile tell him/her that although you only smoke occasionally, you would
like to quit and you would like to try this new Patch thing which you have been reading
about. Impressed by the fact that you only smoke occasionally, the
idiot gives you a prescription for the 7mgs. You, stabbed with your own knife, hoist with your own
petard as the bard would say, leave the office, clutching the
prescription, close to tears, knowing this isn't going to work.
35. It doesn't.
36. The Siberian Death Virus hits again. You pray for an early and
merciful death. No such luck.
37. Wanly and weakly, you step out your bedroom door. You KNOW you need
help. You also know that help isn't going to come from your doctor, it
isn't going to come from your friends, and it isn't going to come from your family.
Its gotta come from people who have "been there--done that". 'Cause the
rest of them don't know what the Hell its all about. That you DO know.
38. You turn to your trusty computer. Search for "quitting smoking". Up
comes something called the Quit-net. Intrigued, you read a little. Some
woman who calls herself Angellady is congratulating somebody called mushroom on having
4 days or something. Somebody called Nancysu sent in a joke that was so
funny I laughed out loud for the first time in what seemed like months. Wait a
minute…..this might be worth sticking around for a while.
39. Long talk with self. Who am I? What kind of person am I? Am I the
kind of person who is simply too weak to do this? Am I simply not able
to stick it out? Am I content to die before I see all my grandchildren? Am I disgusted
enough with it all? Has the time finally come? YES!
40. Log on to the Q. Shred cigarettes and flush. Tell everyone I have
quit. Resolve to either do it, or become a bag lady. Log on to the Q.
Discover I can give as well as get support. Do it and do it and do it, and before long I am at
almost 3 months!!!!
41. Begin to compose the poem. My magnum opus is still under
construction, but you'll be the first to read it!
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