That Time I Tried to Stop Smoking

There's a new government study that finds almost 70 percent of American smokers want to quit. With more than half of those people trying to quit, only 6 percent succeed. 6%. Some people believe it's sheer willpower that allows someone to quit smoking. I believe there's an emotional attachment to smoking for some of us. I mean that it's difficult for a lot of us to quit smoking because we have triggers that make us want or need to smoke. My trigger is stress. Stress is how I was introduced to it. I started smoking at the age of 19 after a stressful incident. I was crying when one of my friends handed a cigarette to me. I continued to smoke. I found that smoking would give me a chance to think or count to 10, whenever I was faced with difficult situations. I could take a break. I didn't realize how much I needed those breaks until that time I tried to quit smoking.

I smoked cigarettes. My husband didn't. He was never overbearing or difficult because I smoked, but he did let me know that he didn't want me to do it. Over the course of several years, I tried to quit smoking, but I was never successful. I tried nicotine gum, sucking on peppermint sticks or lollipops, hot ball candy, tree branches (don't ask), cold turkey, and hypnotism. Yes, hypnotism. I thought it was a little crazy to do, but I was determined to quit. Surprisingly, it worked! Until I was triggered...by stress.

It was a beautiful spring day in Baltimore. The sun was shining and the sweet smell of newly budding trees filled the air. As I took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet smell of flowers, I looked forward to enjoying those breaths without the additional smell of cigarette smoke. I was scheduled for a hypnotherapy session to quit smoking, and I was excited.

As I entered the building, the hypnotist who was a tall, thin woman with short blonde hair, told everyone to throw their cigarettes into a trash can that was located by the front door. Of course, no one wanted to throw his or her expensive pack of cigarettes into the trash, but she said that we would have an opportunity to retrieve them after the session. I threw my cigarettes into the trash can and entered the room.

The large room was big enough to do a dozen sessions at once. There were several rows of special hypnotherapy chairs. They resembled lazy boys, comfortable chairs with leg extensions and padded headrests. These grandpa-inspired chairs also had headsets attached and everyone was asked to take a seat. We were about to begin. The hypnotist said that she was able to connect individually with each person during the session by speaking suggestions to him or her over the headset.

She turned off the lights and turned on a video that was projected on a screen in front of the room. The video was a swirling black circle that seemed to turn in such a way that its movement made an optical illusion of falling into a black hole. I don't recall falling asleep, and I was believing that the session wasn't working because I was still fully awake. I heard the clicks of the hypnotist's equipment as she entered and then exited each person's session. When she finally made to my headset, I was tempted to tell her that it wasn't working because I was still awake. She continued. She said that my suggestions were that I would hate the smell and taste of cigarettes. I would also not be able to see cigarettes. I wasn't sure what that meant, but she said that I wouldn't be able to see them. After the hypnotherapy session was over the hypnotist announced that we were free to retrieve our cigarettes from the trash can if we so desired. Surprisingly, I had no desire to take my cigarettes out of the trash can. I had no cravings! This may just be the answer to my prayers! I proudly headed home to give my husband the great news. He was so happy about it that he took me to get a present. It was a new car!

The new car did come with minimal payments, but it was okay with me! I would be able to enjoy that new car smell. I would be able to drive my car while knowing that no one had ever smoked in it, including myself. I would test myself at work the next day.

There was a "smoking crew" at work. The crew included members of various departments who only spoke to each other during 15 minute smoking breaks. It was more about having company while you stood outside, so I didn't miss smoking with the crew. I worked in a small office at a medical school, and it was also generally frowned upon by the doctors I worked for to be part of the smoking crew.

Since it had been a few days since I had been hypnotised, and I hadn't gone outside in a while, the crew came to my office get me. I heard a tap, tap, tap on the window on the other side of where my computer keyboard rested on my desk. I looked up and saw the smiling face of one of the smoking crew members as she waved for me to come outside. I mouthed, "No...I quit!" The bouncy lady shrugged her shoulders and said, "It's okay! Come out anyway! Just take a break with us. You don't have to smoke." I said okay, and went outside. This would be the test for the suggestions that were given by the hypnotherapist.

When we made it outside everyone started to light their cigarettes. Initially, the smell of the cigarettes was horrible. It smelled like someone was burning dog poop. I had absolutely no desire to taste a cigarette at that point. And I noticed that I couldn't see the cigarettes in their hands. Their hands were blurred out as they held their cigarettes. It was if I was experiencing a real-life edited video event as the haze remained over their hands. I thought that I would be able to beat cigarette addiction! But I forgot the emotional attachment that I had with cigarettes. I was quickly reminded about it.

My husband took the new car to go to the store. He returned home and announced to me that he got into an accident with the car. I hadn't even made the first payment. As I was gearing up to respond, my husband hushed me by placing his finger on my lips. He said, "Don't say anything yet. I know you're upset about the car. So, I brought the guy to the house." I said, "Guy? What guy?" He responded, "The guy who ran into your car."

My husband turned around and ran out of the front door. He then returned with a man. He told the man to tell me what happened, and the man said that he had hit my car by accident, and he was very sorry. I stood there for several moments as I tried to process what I had just been told. I needed a cigarette.

The hypnotherapist had suggestions that assumed that seeing, smelling, and tasting cigarettes were the only reasons that people smoke. I can testify that it is so much more than that because the cigarette break I took probably prevented a first-degree murder. My husband was also very lucky that we lived next door to a store.