#NerdsUnite: Confessions of a ginger (How I quit smoking with the help of technology)

<editorsnote> Nerds, meet my buddy Layne. I forget how we first started talking ... I think it was on twitter, and then we totes became besties on Facebook, and then we started reading each other's blogs and like commenting and like and like and like ... this chick is RAD annndd she's a ginger. No, seriously. Welcome to the world of Layne and the thoughts that are inside of her head. HIT IT GIRL! </editorsnote>

#TalkNerdyToMeLover's Layne Tanley

Hello again Nerdiverse. Layne here.

When I was a freshman in college, I started smoking cigarettes. My very first pack were Camel Turkish Golds. If you know anything about cigarettes, you know that those are not exactly girly cigarettes. Most of the chicks I saw smoking on campus (back in 2000 you were allowed to smoke on my school's campus) were smoking Marlborogh Lights or Ultra Lights. They had highlights and gel nails, and they piled on 14 pounds of mascara. They wore silver hoops in their ears and James Avery charm bracelets. They were innocuous, cheerful, and boring.

Needless to say, I didn't start smoking so I could be one of them.

I started smoking because I was bored. No, seriously. I'm not going to blow smoke up your asses and tell you that some horrible stressful thing happened to me, or that I gave into peer pressure --in fact, my smoker friends were horrified when they found out I bought a pack-- or some other line meant to incite sympathy. I had a part time job my second semester of college, and it was perfect for a college student because it involved sitting in a 10 foot by 10 foot "office" inside a metal pole barn with nothing much to do other than study. I answered the phones and made small data entries, but for the most part, the guys I worked for were a construction crew and since it was a small business, they just needed someone to be a physical presence in their office slash model building, and I was happy to oblige (read: get paid).

It was great in that I was able to get my school work done and get paid at the same time, but it was horrible in that I rarely had any human interaction while at work, and many times I found myself with absolutely nothing to do. You can only do so much studying, reading, and playing solitaire. They had dialup, so any actual internet-based activity beyond checking my email was laughable. While in my dorm, I had a T1, at work, I had a T-None. Bummer.

Interestingly enough, I remember telling myself that if I was going to smoke, I would also one day need to quit. I know it sounds strange, but I'm a strange gal. I knew smoking was a horrible idea, that it could kill me. I watched my grandfather suffer the last years of his life because of smoking. He smoked pipe tobacco when I was a kid, and so whenever I smell cherry-flavored tobacco, I instantly feel his arms around me, patting my back, as my face brushed against the rough cotton coveralls that he wore every day. I remember his cough, and his constant struggle for breath. Everyone tells you how bad smoking is, and sometimes you get to see it for yourself, but those things didn't stop me from buying that pack of cigarettes and tempting fate. I used to steal my mother's pack of smokes (she quit a long time ago), and hide them, or throw them out, in a display of irritation that she did something that might take her away from me. But when it came time for those things to keep me from picking up the same bad habit, my own ego was my worst enemy.

I don't know what possessed me, other than sheer stupidity… and boredom.

At some point, I believe it was after I realized I was addicted to cigarettes, that I promised myself I would quit within 10 years. I don't know why I picked that number, all I can say is that it was probably one more carefully placed brick in my wall of denial. Another "excuse" to placate the rational part of my brain. The part that remembered all the times I had told people how smoking was bad for them, that they should quit. That remembered my grandpa, and the angry voice of my mother when she couldn't find the cigarettes I hid from her. The tiny voice in my head, reminding me that there, in my purse, next to my pack of Camels was a rescue inhaler.

Oh yeah, I had asthma. Sometimes really smart people do very dumb things.

I had tried to quit smoking after joining a cessation program through M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, here in Houston (one of the leading cancer research & treatment centers in the world), but that actually went 800 different kinds of wrong-- that is a long story for another time, but let's just say that my brain and a drug called Chantix DO NOT get along. (Read: It was a messy breakup and I don't really want to get into details here.) I had also quit for a few months here and there, but inevitably, I would give in to my demons, fold like a rotten newspaper, and chain smoke my way back up to a pack and a half per day. The last few years I smoked, my habit was costing at least $200/month. Fuck!

Anyway… this year was year 10. Last summer, I had made a $100.00 bet with my friend, Doug, that I would quit before new years (Jan 1, 2011), but I had to be quit for 30 days by January 1st. I didn't even try. It was pathetic. Right after Christmas of 2010, the boyfriend and I met up with Doug, his lady, and his brother to have dinner. He asked me if I'd been successful, and when I informed him I had not (and couldn't he smell the stink of cigarettes ON ME?!?), so he said we should go double or nothing. The date picked was that I had to be quit for 30 days by July 4th. So, being the procrastinator that I am (and damned good at it!), I picked June 1st as my quit date. My birthday is June 4th, and I knew that if I tried to quit on my birthday, I would surely be tempting the universe. There were two magic c-notes on the line, after all! (Obviously one magic c-note just wasn't enough.)

So, when June 1st came, I was prepared. As prepared as you can be to get over an addiction. Not only had I cleaned my car out, stocked up on gum, and drank so much water I was peeing every 20 minutes (drinking lots of water when you're quitting smoking helps. I don't exactly know why, but it does). I had my last cigarette around 10:40pm on May 31st. It wasn't so bad, because I had spent the previous month and a half repeating the mantra "I am not a smoker. I do not smoke." in my head every time I had a cigarette (or at least 85% of the time). I think that right there really helped me build up some semblance of will power and create the energy I needed to stop. I also told EVERYONE I knew that I was quitting on June 1st. I wanted to be held accountable. I wrote a blog about it, I tweeted it, I put it on Facebook. I wanted to be sure that the threat of social backlash would be motivation to see it through.

Also, I turned to tech to help me kick this habit for good.

I woke up on June 1st, and pulled out my Breathe Fresh e-cigarette (e = electronic). My boss had purchased a kit a while back, with several nicotine-free cartridges, for the many times she had tried to quit. So, I asked her if I could use it the first couple of weeks as a crutch. I knew that a substitution for the physical habit-- having something in my hand, being able to "go through the motions" might help me. I had memorized the "quitting smoking timeline" which tells you what happens in your body after you quit, from the first 15 minutes, to 10 years after you inhale your last drag of a smoke. The first three days are when you're going through the major chemical withdrawal. All you want is nicotine. Just. One. Fucking. Cigarette. I cried the whole drive into work. I screamed and yelled and begged my brain to stop asking me for a cigarette. I had meltdown after meltdown those first 72 hours… it was insane. I had an enormous amount of support, but I felt like I was falling into a void and would never come back. When you remove a chemical from your brain that your system has relied on for 10 years, shit is going to get ugly. I went through anger, frustration, confusion, insomnia, restlessness, and physical pain. Oh, and my digestive system went on strike. Super fun times.

I was tested again and again. Stressful events, like getting a mole biopsied for skin cancer, several trips to the auto shop, and one very rude employee at the hot-yoga studio I used to attend (I don't go anymore, because that day I may or may not have called said employee a see-you-next-tuesday after she treated me like shit), mocked my vulnerable, nicotine-free state. There were times, that first month, when I should have failed at quitting, but I managed to channel that energy into other things. Like writing on my blog (insert gratuitous blog link here), and irritating my boyfriend with my erratic mood swings from hell.

Eventually, things improved. And so did my crutch. After doing more research, I found a more heavy-duty system that actually produces a much higher volume of vapor. You see, when you use an e-cig, you're essentially using a vaporizer that consists of an atomizer, a cartridge to deliver the liquid that is turned into vapor and a power source (battery). There are a BAJILLION e-cigarette systems on the market, so it can be daunting to find the "right" one. The second thing I found was a website where you could purchase e-liquid (or e-juice) in flavors like marshmallow, champagne, and pumpkin pie (the champagne is AMAZEBALLS). After the initial purchase of the system, using an e-cig costs me less than 50 cents per day. My monthly budget on cigarettes was larger than what I'll spend in a year with an e-cig. Eventually, I plan to stop using it, too.

Technology has not let me down. In fact, I have not had ONE SINGLE CIGARETTE since I quit. December 1st will mark the 6-month anniversary of my emancipation from tobacco. I finally did it. I finally kicked my habit. And I did it with the help of tech.

#nerdsunite

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