I Quit!
I Quit!
no smoking

Pssst. Come here. Can I tell you a secret? I haven’t smoked a cigarette in 4 days. Yup. I quit. I guess that is not such a torrid secret, but I really haven’t told many people for fear I’ll fail. Then I’d have to deal with all the comments about how people thought I quit smoking. My kids know. My mom knows. I just haven’t full on announced it to the world yet. In other words, I haven’t posted it on Facebook. And we all know nothing is official until Facebook is notified, right? But this is too difficult for Facebook.

See, here’s the thing. I have been a smoker since I was fourteen years old. Twenty-six years dedicated to a foggy, smoked filled life. Coughing, fighting to breathe, needing smoke breaks; all of those things have been my life. Not to mention thousands of dollars invested with nothing to show but murky lungs. And I don’t know why my parents ever let me start. Yes. I just said my parents allowed me to smoke, even when I was fourteen. I was never hiding my smokes in my sock drawer or hanging out of a window. I just lit up and puffed away. The only thing my mom ever worried about was telling me not to smoke in bed. Great advice!

Now I have three kids of my own. I never want them to smoke. I’d never dream of allowing them to smoke. So, I quit. I just finished off my pack and quit “cold-turkey”. It’s the only way for me. I’ve tried patches and gum. The Chantix scares me. My body typically doesn’t deal well with medication. If there is a strange side-effect, it’s pretty certain I will have it. No problem. I can do this, right? I have will-power of steel. I am stubborn beyond belief. Of course, I am usually only strong willed and stubborn when I really want something or need to win.

Don’t get me wrong; I do want to quit. I don’t even really enjoy smoking all that much. Smoking, for me, is sort of like when I have sex with a guy I don’t even really like. It’s not about him; it’s what he can do for me.  Wait! Whoa! Did she just say she has sex with guys she doesn’t like? Let me clarify; I do kind of like them, just not in a get married or seriously date sort of way.  You know how you meet a guy, and he’s just ok? He’ll do so long as he realizes he’s never eating Sunday dinner with your mom and you’re never paying his cable bill. But on some bet-he-could-rock-my-world scale he is above a 5 so, he’s doable. He’s a guy you could totally never look at again if you could just make it through the week without his stress relieving skills. That is the exact way I feel about smoking. One might say smoking to me is the guy with absolutely no communication skills, but he can bring it hard core after a stressful day. So, yes, I want to quit, but I’ll be lost without my cigarettes to help me through the day. There are things I won’t miss, though.

I hate packing cigarettes with me. They are just one more thing to forget and have to turn around for. Also, I just happen to think cigarettes smell disgusting. What is even weirder, I can’t stand anyone to smoke around me. It gags me, chokes me. But, and this is very important, smoking is a ritual. I do it every day at about the same time of day. It’s really important when I write. I always smoke like burning pile of leaves whilst I write. Honestly, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to survive.

Right now I’m doing ok. I mean, it’s been four days, and I am not edgy AT ALL!! Okay, you got me. I’m a terrible liar. At this very moment I have already gnawed my fingernails to near nothing. I’m a little bitchier than normal, and no one even thought that was possible! I have snacked my way into food guilt. And by food guilt I mean my inner anorexic is screaming at me. (Ok, the random-sex-having-anorexic-writer obviously needs therapy, but that’s a different article) But I still haven’t cheated, not even once. So, I guess so far so good.

Who knows if I’ll make it another day? At this rate, I may be making a run to the convenience store within the next hour. But I really want to quit. More importantly, I need to quit. Smoking is so damaging to the heart, lungs, and kidneys…basically my innards hate me. My kids hate smoking. Most of my friends don’t smoke either. I guess I’ll keep trying. Maybe I will shock the world and actually win this battle. Win or lose, I’ll keep you posted on my progress over the next few weeks (as long as I don’t completely chew my fingers off), and if you have any good tips to help me quit, feel free to let me know.


Tammie Niewedde shares her life with 24, 21, and 16 year old sons. She also has a 2 year old grandson whose energy level reminds her exactly how old she is (40, and she owns that proudly!). In her home, you will find a 120 pound fur factory named Dexter and a few cats whom have decided that she is merely their staff.  The root of her love for books, writing, and animals comes from being a child whose only siblings were books and her animals. She is a full-time student, mother, coordinator of all that is chaos, and a hopeless list maker. Most of her writing is creative non-fiction that describes her real life adventures. Her acerbic, biting sense of humor may capture your heart, or it may induce rage. Nonetheless what she writes is true to life. You can often find her hanging out with the kiddos, studying, reading, writing, and making lists…of everything! You can find her on Facebook!

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