Am I actually “quitting” or am I just making excuses?
In December 2019, I had a physical with a new primary care physician — PCP. It was the first time I had a physical in probably four years — I tend to avoid going to the doctor because I hate doctor’s offices and hospitals in general.
After the nurse checked me in, I sat on the examination table and anxiously awaited meeting my new PCP. Doctor’s offices always put me on edge — there’s just something about them that makes me uneasy. Plus, I knew my smoking habit would come up. Whenever I tell a doctor I smoke, I always feel guilty and ashamed for whatever reason. Previous PCPs were always quick to throw medications like Chantax at me, and even though I hadn’t thought of quitting, I knew that someday when I did decide to quit, I didn’t want to use medication. Many of them have depression as a side effect and depression is something I already struggle with at times.
In walked my new doctor — an older, Russian man who is probably around 5’7”. He’s matter of fact and is very no-nonsense. After my efforts to engage in small talk failed, he began looking through my chart that was just updated by the nurse.
“So you’re a smoker?” He asked in his thick, Slavic accent as he scanned my chart.
“Uh yes, doctor,” I stuttered.
“A pack a day, yes?”
“Yessir… Sometimes less, sometimes more — it all depends on the day,” I replied with a tone of guilt.
His eyes looked at me over his glasses, that hung low on his nose, “You don’t have to be shy. If you smoke, you smoke. I’m just asking.”
I laughed, “Yeah, doctor’s offices kind of put me on edge I guess.”
“It’s okay,” he said as he continued to flip through the pages of my chart. “You have pretty good blood pressure for a smoker, so that’s good.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “Well, that’s good at least.”
“Yes, it’s good… for now. But, you know, it won’t always be that way if you keep smoking.”
I nodded in agreement, “Yessir, I know I should quit… I just haven’t really ever wanted to.”
He took off his glasses, sighed, and then said, “Look, I am a doctor. So I have to tell you that you should quit smoking, okay?”
“Yessir, I get that.”
“Okay, but I am also a person — I get it. I was also a smoker when I was young, and I know how hard it is to quit.”
Slightly caught off guard by his honesty and candidness, I said, “Okay, I think I get what you mean.”
He sat down and said, “Look, you are young, which is good. Time is on your side to some degree. You’re what, 27?”
“Yes, just about.”
“Okay, right now, even though it’s still not good to smoke, it’s not the end of the world. You’re healthy — for the most part. But once you get past 30, that’s when I usually see the real health problems start.”
I started to catch on. He was balancing being a doctor and also someone who understood smokers. I replied, “I see — so, I should start to think about quitting.”
“Yes. Sure, you can ‘enjoy it’ for maybe another year or so, but the longer you wait, the harder it will be, and so on.”
I nodded, “Fair enough — I appreciate your candidness.”
“Sure, yes. Now, I have to be a doctor again,” he said as he continued with the physical.
After that physical, my PCP’s words hit me hard. He didn’t tell me to quit like past PCP’s, but he was real with me. He got why I smoked, but was honest about how waiting longer would just make things worse. This was the start of my thoughts of quitting. It was time, but I didn’t know how to approach it. I knew I needed to start somewhere, but deep down I didn’t want to do it.
As I approach a year since that physical, I’m presented with a dilemma — is my new strategy of brand switch ups and limiting my workday cigarettes and car butts really about quitting, or is just prolonging smoking? Is this really quitting, or am I just trying to make excuses to stay a smoker for just a little longer? Is this a legitimate strategy, or just a cheap “last hurrah?”
Did I take my PCP’s “you’re young so it’s not a big deal right now” sentiment too seriously? Sometimes I feel like I used his understanding as a free pass to smoke ’em while I can before the health risks become more dire. Nothing about what he said condoned smoking — he didn’t say that smoking now while I’m young is any less bad than it would be if I was old. But it seems I’ve taken his down-to-earth, personable understanding, as an excuse to hold onto something that is inevitably destroying my body.
Getting lost in subjectivity
A friend of mine — Trent — who has been very encouraging and consistently following my blog, reached out a couple weeks ago with an observation.
He referenced the Smoking is my brand post and how I focus quite a bit on smoking being a part of my identity. What struck him is the fact that my plan draws a lot of attention to still smoking. He found it interesting that I’m essentially extending this identity of my “smoker-self” as a function for quitting, which could be perceived as a paradox — Trent said:
Self can’t reveal self, to self, you know? You even say that sometimes you doubt your year long plan. So maybe some higher part of yourself knows that it’s a bit of an excuse to smoke for another year. Like, why a year? Is that just an arbitrary number? Anyway, I’m rooting for you, man. I just thought I’d offer another perspective.
Trent is a spiritual person — which resonates with me because I also practice a form of spirituality myself. And I have yet to look into the more existential dilemmas of this whole journey. His observation hit hard, and his words had me stewing on this question:
Is my strategy just an excuse to keep smoking?
In a sense, yes. I’m pretty stubborn and can be adverse to change — especially when change involves letting go of something I love. I’ve said it a million times, but at the end of the day I love smoking cigarettes. It’s one of the most instantly gratifying adult pleasures anyone can partake in — in my opinion. The doubt I have in my plan is due to the love I have for something with no objectively good value and all the subjectively “good” qualities — a means of destressing, inducing catharsis, etc. — outweigh everything else.
I’ve gotten lost in the subjectivity so much that I’ve forgotten why I ought to quit. Sure, it’s for my wife and future children, but at the end of the day, deciding to quit should be a decision based on my own health and something I want to do for myself. I’m quitting because I’ve finally realized that I have one life and one body — and if I want to live long enough to grow old, cigarettes can’t be a part of my life.
In a sense, I’m giving myself this last year as a last hurrah because of the sheer pleasure I receive from smoking. Yes, I have limiting tactics to smoke less and many of them are working — I truly dread things like my periodic brand switch-ups. But, Trent’s observation holds some truth to it — I am still holding onto smoking and my year plan can be perceived as an excuse to keep smoking.
In the same thread of messages between myself and Trent, he suggested I partake in a manifestation technique. Basically, you grab a pen and paper, sit outside, and project yourself into the future — ironically it’s usually a year. You are supposed to write down — as your future self — the “memory” of the previous year, and call out what the past year has brought for you.
So, here’s the results of my manifestation technique, specifically about smoking:
It’s July 5, 2021, and I’m very proud to say that today is the first day of being cigarette-free for the first time in 10 years. I’m so glad I was able to re-evaluate my priorities as it pertains to my health, and I’m really proud of myself for slowly reducing my cigarette intake over the past year.
I’m really proud of myself for admitting that I had a problem and listened to my body that was begging to breathe clean air. I’m really glad that I built the bench-strength to resist the urge to indulge in cigarettes and start a new life where I’m no longer bound by something that’s destroying my body.
I’m grateful for this new beginning and my newfound dedication to take better care of myself. I’m proud of myself for exercising more over the past year and for all the opportunities this trial has unlocked.
Lastly, I’m glad that I’ve realized that I have one life and one body on earth— and it’s great that I’m finally starting to nurture it the way it should be.
Even though I plan to ultimately quit cold turkey on July 5, 2021, I gave myself a year because I like to think I know myself. I know my triggers and that my body can’t take being a smoker forever. While self can’t reveal self to self, this journey has taught me a lot about myself, and why I choose to smoke. It’s continually revealing how easily my life can be consumed by something — no matter how good or bad that thing may be.
Yes, there is a factor about my journey that is just an excuse to keep smoking for just a little longer and I know I’ll always desire to smoke for the rest of my life. I know that many things will remind me of smoking which is just something I will have to endure — the journey is seldom easy. With all that being said, my body can’t afford to be a lifelong smoker, and at some point in my life — and anyone else’s life — some things have to give.
May my smoker-self fade away gracefully
I hate the rain, but after it rains — when there’s just enough chill and humidity in the air, and no wind — smoke carries in a certain way. It lingers and flows slowly, which induces a heavy sense of catharsis for me. It dances in a way that gives off an essence of calm after the storm. It’s eerie in a comforting way.
It’s kind of how I view my quitting journey — it has been highly cathartic. The smoke is me being a smoker. It lingers just enough, but then slowly fades away in the distance. It’s there, and it stays there for just long enough until it eventually evaporates into nothing. It’s a slow burn, just like my year’s plan of smoking for a little longer. I know it’s going to go away — it has to. Just like the atmosphere and elements will absorb the smoke, so will my body.
Even though smoke fades away naturally and quitting smoking is a decision, I like to think that quitting will be a graceful transition into nothingness. I like to believe that the elements and tactics of my quitting journey, will result in the slow, definite fading of my cigarette use.
Cheers,
Ryan
P.S. As the end of 2020 approaches both my workload and the craziness of the holiday season has me at bandwidth. I may do an end of the year post, but this could very well be my last post of the year. If that is the case, my next post will be on January 7, 2021.
