How I Quit Smoking: My Story
Smashwords Edition
Published by Robert M. Yelverton at Smashwords
Cover Art by Robert M. Yelverton
Copyright 2011 by Robert M. Yelverton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter One - Yes I was a Real Smoker
Chapter Three - The Years Roll By
Chapter Four - Failing Methods Through The Years
Chapter Six - Rants and Points of Interest
This is my story. It is a true story. It is my journey from the first time I picked up a cigarette to my success of laying them down forever. For myself, that was a long journey, but for you I will take the heavily edited route. No novel here. But on the other hand, if you were intending to learn how I quit smoking at the start then you will be disappointed. If you are in a hurry and do not want any story, just please skip to the last chapter. You will be missing some good stuff though. :)
At times, it will be humorous, scathing, self-indulgent, and so on. From time to time, I will be putting it to the big boys, including Big Tobacco, the FDA, TV, and even myself. The blame laid everywhere and nowhere.
Because this is a true story, you may see parts of yourself in here. I do need to say upfront that although this journey of mine ended in success, it may not work for you.
Let's look at things realistically. Nothing in Life is Guaranteed but death and taxes.
Chapter One - Yes I was a real smoker
** Some Background **
I am not one of those anti-smokers that have never smoked. You know the ones I am talking about. Some break out into fake coughing fits when you light up. Others give you the frown face of disapproval. They will also lecture you at the drop of a hat on the evils of smoking and how you are killing yourself and those around you. Not all are like that, but a lot of them are.
I was a smoker. I smoked for thirty-five plus years. For the most part, I was a polite smoker and looked down on the rude smokers. If I was at a restaurant/mall/store smoking and someone would ask me please not to, then I would gladly put it out. But if they chose to do that stupid cough and hack stunt and glare at me, then they could kiss my grits.
You can choose to believe me or not. But for the most part of those smoking years, I smoked about a pack and a half per day. Sometimes more, sometimes less. By the time I hit 18 years of age, I was smoking a pack and a half a day on average.
Many times over the years, I tried to quit. I tried cold turkey, counting down, group hypnosis, gum, the patch, and even bargaining with God. All failed. Later in the book, I will go into greater detail.
But for now, just realize that I am an ex-smoker.
My quit date was 3/8/2009.
And so here is my story.
** My First Smokes **
I may have been what some consider a late bloomer when it comes to trying out smoking. Or some may consider way early. But I do remember I must have been all of twelve or thirteen years old. I was hanging out at my grandfather's house in Ormond Beach. I guess we were on vacation or my dad was out to sea. But, we were there for a lot of the summer.
A few of my friends were over, we were on the woodsy part of the property, and it was already dark. Out of one of my friend's pockets came a crumpled pack of cigarettes. I was not naive; I knew what they were even though my parents were nonsmokers. My grandfather smoked like a chimney. But these were different. They were right there in a friend's hand. Of course this caused a stir. We all gathered about and he pulled one out. The rest of us were waiting to see what he was going to do.
Thinking back, I wish I had left. But I didn't. He pulled out a box of matches as if he were some kind of magician. I know he was holding our rapt attention.
He held out the pack and shook it exposing a couple to us. There it was, the proffered taboo NO-NO. Neither of my parents smoked, both had made overtures to beating me to with in an inch of my life if I ever tried smoking.
With that one offer of a smoke, a war broke out in my head. On one side were my parents and a church upbringing; on the other were visions of the Marlboro man looking cool sitting on his horse smoking. Don't let anyone ever tell you that TV commercials do nothing to influence you. If so, they would not make commercials.
On this night, the fear for my life won the battle. In fact, no one lit up. Back into the pocket they vanished. But a seed had been planted. I started watching my grandfather as he smoked. He always seemed content when he did. I started noticing a lot of people smoked and looked contented. Then there were the all-present cigarette commercials. People laughing and having fun, and of course, that tough looking cool Marlboro man. The seed took root and grew.
About a week went by. We were swimming in the pits and just goofing off. Doing what countless other boys and girls did on a warm summer day. We were sitting around talking and drying out. BAM! Out they came again. This time I watched in amazement as my hand reached out and grabbed one - was that really my hand? All eyes were on me. It almost looked like everybody was holding their breath. A sulfur smell filled the air as the match was struck. Here I come Marlboro man, look at me! I am going to be cool to! I remember smiling as I filled my mouth full of smoke and blew it out. Nothing to it; I thought! I looked around at all my friends with their mouths hanging open, as I took in another mouthful, and blew it out. My eyes started to water and sting because of the smoke, but hey, I'm cool. So I thought.
"I think you're supposed to suck it into your lungs," someone said.
"Huh?"
I looked around and there was some head nodding and some shrugging. I thought what the heck, and took a big mouthful and sucked it down.
The effect was immediate and explosive. I think that I impressed my friends with my ability to cough up not only my lungs, but my complete insides as well, including my toes.
I also think that I scared the crap out of them. Some were beating me half to death by pounding me on the back, and a few took off for the hills, a few were laughing. By the time I could breathe again, the cigarette was done for. Thank Goodness! I swore that I would never do that again if I lived. I lived and life went on.
What can I say? I am an idiot. I do not know why, it still mystifies me. But I started carrying a book of matches with me. I would meet with friends at night without my parents knowing. Sneaking out was easy. It would be a time before sucking that smoke into my lungs happened again. But I was happy just holding one and taking the smoke in my mouth, holding it a few seconds before blowing it out. Slowly, over the summer it became more natural feeling holding a cigarette and smoking without inhaling. Most of my friends still were not smoking. I think I scared them too much that first time. I hope that it served them for life. I really do.
The cigarettes were supplied by one of my friends that had smoking parents. I would also snatch a few from my grandfather's pack occasionally. He left them out on the dining-room table every night.
But that is how I started smoking that summer. It was a summer of sneaking out at night, swimming in the pits, walking all over the place, going to the beach, having fun. All normal kid stuff, except I was on my way to being hooked and not even knowing it.