Alternative Ways to Quit Smoking

So, as anyone who reads my stuff knows, I’m a pretty heavy smoker. Not social, not just when I drink. I am a full on, cigarette constantly in hand, gagging up green stuff in the morning, openly addicted smoker.

I have had a love/hate relationship with cigarettes since I was 12 (yup, started at 12, how sad is that). To be entirely honest, I love the way smoking makes me feel. I love the way that cloud of carcinogens and fiber glass (I’m a menthol lover) burns on its way down. I love the way it calms me down. I love way it gives me something to do with my hands and I love the way it keeps me from gaining weight.

I hate the fact that’s its probably going to kill me someday. I hate the fact that I get winded walking to the mailbox. I hate the way I wheeze in the morning when I wake up and a little voice whispers cancer with every intake of breath.

I’ve tried to quit. I’ve tried cold turkey, pills, lasers, patches, gum, fake cigarettes, candy cigarettes, lollipops and just about everything I can try, but it just doesn’t work. Why? Um, because I have absolutely so self control or will power whatsoever. So if I’m going to quit, I’m going to have to get extreme.

Aversion therapy – You know that thing where you put a rubber band on your wrist and snap it every time you think about smoking? Yeah, that’s for pussies. Seriously, who does that actually hurt? I have a pretty high pain threshold. Example? The other night, I removed a mole with a razor blade I got at Home Depot. Sounds stupid? A doctor would have charged me $200. I did it for $12 (adding in the cost of the six pack). So if this aversion therapy is going to work, it’s really going to have to hurt. From now on, every time I smoke a cigarette, I’m going to put it out on my hand when it’s done. I really can’t see any downside to this plan. Unless I get addicted to pain. Then I actually might start smoking more.

Get knocked up – The only time I’ve successfully quit for any length of time was when I was pregnant. Of course, I started again as soon as the baby weight didn’t instantly melt off, but for awhile, I had a good thing going. I don’t really want a baby though. Their cute, but they’re a lot of work and honestly, I’m really surprised that I have managed to keep my son alive for as long as I have. I don’t know if I could do it again.

Get addicted to something else – I’ve been watching Intervention a lot lately, and there are a whole listing of drugs that I’ve never even heard of. Did you know bath salts are a drug? I have some of those. The vanilla bean kind! I just don’t know how I’m supposed to ingest them? Snorting? Eating? If its smoking, that would kind of ruin the point. Maybe I could try porn? I already spend a lot of time on the computer, so it would really just be switching my focus from writing to watching freaky Asian girls do weird things to each other. Never mind, I just thought about “Two Girls One Cup” and gagged in my mouth a little.

Coma – This isn’t really something I can plan, but if I was in a coma, I’m pretty sure I could kick the habit for good. Not one of those weird comas with the breathing tube and brain damage. I just want one of those nice, “Soap Opera” comas where my hair is always perfect and I wake up fully alert, like I just took a really long nap.

Time Machine – Any day now, according to every sci-fi movie I’ve ever seen, one of these is going to be invented. Once it is, I’ll get in one and set my destination to 1992 in a small New Hampshire town. I will find little Essa, hiding out behind the local convenience store, with a group of her hooligan friends, and slap the cigarette right out of her hand before she can take that first addictive drag. As a bonus, on my way back, I’ll stop in 1999 and warn my 19 year old self to never see Blair Witch Project. Such a stupid shitty movie.

That’s all I’ve got for now, but I’m open to more ideas. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch some pornography. All this burning myself with cigarettes has made me weirdly horny.