It is now 14 days since I purchased cigarettes. It is 14 days since I had the hypnotherapy. I would says that the effects of it did not last more than three days but here I am managing a day at a time.
As I have often heard from other giving-uppers the feeling is similar to a bereavement - an ache of loss - something or someone precious and comforting has gone. I will continue with the struggle because I must. Habits have changed as they must.
My favoured drink now is herbal tea an infusion relaxante which contains verveine and camomile. Also, like the French, I prefer my coffee small and black and strong.
It should be a day of celebration but I just feel sad that my best friend has died.
Sunday 21 January 2007
Thursday 18 January 2007
Is the craving physical or mental?
Day Seven
My daughter Cherry (a trained art therapist) rang. Her words of wisdom were that any craving now is not physical but mental. This is something of a revelation because checking it out she is correct. My need is for oral comfort – that is why I am sucking sweets and chocolat. Just how long will that take to go?
Day Eight
Not a good day energy-wise. I am consuming sugar and lots of it but at least that is, hopefully, only temporary.
On the positive side went into the bank and increased my regular savings by 20 euros to 40 per month. Of course I used to spend more than 20€ on fags - that’s only 4 packets. The bank assistant looked a bit worried at my request so I explained that “Je arrête le fumer” he smiled and processed my request. I know that smile, it is friendly but that could be amusement at my french accent, my incorrect use of French or the sentiment expressed – I am happy not to know. I bought more bon bons et chocolat. That afternoon I arranged to meet my friend Marie. The kid inside me rubbed her hands in glee because we were to meet in a bar/café and Marie is a smoker. I offer to buy just one cigarette from her – but she insists that I have it for free. My God it was a menthol cigarette – why would anyone want to disguise the taste of tobacco? I take a couple of very unsatisfactory puffs and save the rest for later. AT home, the dog end is rolled up with the one rolling paper that I have carefully hidden away. After dinner just as I was settling to enjoy this the phone rang. What a waste.
My daughter Cherry (a trained art therapist) rang. Her words of wisdom were that any craving now is not physical but mental. This is something of a revelation because checking it out she is correct. My need is for oral comfort – that is why I am sucking sweets and chocolat. Just how long will that take to go?
Day Eight
Not a good day energy-wise. I am consuming sugar and lots of it but at least that is, hopefully, only temporary.
On the positive side went into the bank and increased my regular savings by 20 euros to 40 per month. Of course I used to spend more than 20€ on fags - that’s only 4 packets. The bank assistant looked a bit worried at my request so I explained that “Je arrête le fumer” he smiled and processed my request. I know that smile, it is friendly but that could be amusement at my french accent, my incorrect use of French or the sentiment expressed – I am happy not to know. I bought more bon bons et chocolat. That afternoon I arranged to meet my friend Marie. The kid inside me rubbed her hands in glee because we were to meet in a bar/café and Marie is a smoker. I offer to buy just one cigarette from her – but she insists that I have it for free. My God it was a menthol cigarette – why would anyone want to disguise the taste of tobacco? I take a couple of very unsatisfactory puffs and save the rest for later. AT home, the dog end is rolled up with the one rolling paper that I have carefully hidden away. After dinner just as I was settling to enjoy this the phone rang. What a waste.
Monday 15 January 2007
On the 7th day
The struggle with the nicotine addiction has now started in earnest. Yesterday I was very active - cleaned my bedroom and swept all of the downstairs. Went out to the Mairie's ceremonie des voeux (the lady mayor of St Gilles Vieux Marche, invites the whole commune to hear the achievements of last year and the plans for next and to enjoy pre-lunch snacks and a drink of Kir). After four years I am feeling at home and not now so much of an etranger. It seems that there are 40 British (or rather non French) homes in this commune - I do wonder how many are permanent and how many holiday homes.
In spite of the busy day yesterday, or perhaps because of it, my brain is working overtime on finding ways of giving up and being a smoker at the same time. The temptation to buy just one packet overwhelms every other thought in my head.
Idea one. I go up to my local English bar and buy a packet of cigarettes and smoke one (or at the very most two) write my name on the packet and ask him to hold them for me behind the bar. This sounds like an excellent idea - but the problem would be that I would still be a smoker. So here is a promise to myself: if I am still wanting to smoke desperately after 10 more days - that is the 25th January- then I will carry out this cunning plan.
So it is now one week since I have purchased any cigarettes or rolling tobacco. But I have smoked any old bits of tobacco, dog ends and even the remains of dogends previously smoked.
In spite of the busy day yesterday, or perhaps because of it, my brain is working overtime on finding ways of giving up and being a smoker at the same time. The temptation to buy just one packet overwhelms every other thought in my head.
Idea one. I go up to my local English bar and buy a packet of cigarettes and smoke one (or at the very most two) write my name on the packet and ask him to hold them for me behind the bar. This sounds like an excellent idea - but the problem would be that I would still be a smoker. So here is a promise to myself: if I am still wanting to smoke desperately after 10 more days - that is the 25th January- then I will carry out this cunning plan.
So it is now one week since I have purchased any cigarettes or rolling tobacco. But I have smoked any old bits of tobacco, dog ends and even the remains of dogends previously smoked.
Saturday 13 January 2007
Old dog ends
For only two days out of the last five have I managed to be completely nicotine free. On the positive side - I have fulfilled one of my aims - I have not spent any money on tobacco. Other days I have consumed every last grain of tobacco (dog ends) found in the house and car. Of course I am disgusted with myself. But a new week is coming up. I believe that the effects of the hypnotherapy wore off on day two. I must have a very stubborn sub-conscious.
Wednesday 10 January 2007
Day Two
Tuesday 9th January 2007.
My Method of giving up – no hang on, Jacquie said I had to turn it into a positive. So here goes my method of being healthy and having more money in my pocket … No doesn’t flow quite so well but it will have to do. Instead of smoking a disgusting dirty, smelly, messy, unsightly cancer-inducing, emphysema promoting 4000 chemical laden cigarette I drink water and not just any water. This is Contrex a mineral water high in calcium, magnesium and potassium etc. and when the craving bites – as it does from time to time I drop one drop of Rescue Remedy at the back of my tongue – and so far so good.
You see I can lie even to myself.
9 pm Confession Time Whilst I was looking for a Boots Kalms tablet to help me sleep I found a small opened packet of tobacco – that had been left by my sister Irene under her bed. Now, I had thought that I had thrown all of my rolling papers out but there was a packet. I took the tobacco and papers downstairs and made myself a hot chocolate. I rolled one loosely, and took two drags – it did not taste at all of tobacco but of something quite unpleasant – there was absolutely no pleasure or relief in it. I scattered the tobacco and papers into the rubbish bin. You know it was a good thing that that happened – somehow that was more powerful than the abstinence.
My Method of giving up – no hang on, Jacquie said I had to turn it into a positive. So here goes my method of being healthy and having more money in my pocket … No doesn’t flow quite so well but it will have to do. Instead of smoking a disgusting dirty, smelly, messy, unsightly cancer-inducing, emphysema promoting 4000 chemical laden cigarette I drink water and not just any water. This is Contrex a mineral water high in calcium, magnesium and potassium etc. and when the craving bites – as it does from time to time I drop one drop of Rescue Remedy at the back of my tongue – and so far so good.
You see I can lie even to myself.
9 pm Confession Time Whilst I was looking for a Boots Kalms tablet to help me sleep I found a small opened packet of tobacco – that had been left by my sister Irene under her bed. Now, I had thought that I had thrown all of my rolling papers out but there was a packet. I took the tobacco and papers downstairs and made myself a hot chocolate. I rolled one loosely, and took two drags – it did not taste at all of tobacco but of something quite unpleasant – there was absolutely no pleasure or relief in it. I scattered the tobacco and papers into the rubbish bin. You know it was a good thing that that happened – somehow that was more powerful than the abstinence.
Tuesday 9 January 2007
On Giving Up Smoking
On Stopping Smoking
Sunday 7th January 2007 is the last day that I allowed myself to smoke. I had two opened packets of Drum light tobacco, two packets of papers and about 50 filters. The Scot in me does not like to see the waste but I know, however hard I try, that that I cannot smoke the lot.
I dedicate the day to smoking and feel it is important not to wash or to cook a healthy meal. I do however clean my teeth. I manage a short walk before it gets dark – one of my favourites to the étang du Martyrs. The question is was I a martyr to the addiction of nicotine or a martyr to deny myself the pleasure – which had, kept me relatively happy over a period of 36 years.
I wallow in the mess of smoking: papers, dog-ends bits of tobacco and an absence of oxygen. I make no phone calls and luckily get none.
Monday 8th January 2007.
Sleep later than intended and so only leave time to smoke about 3 cigarettes in total before my appointment with a hypnotherapist (Jacquie) at 9.30 am in St Nicholas du Pelem. The remaining tobacco, rolling machines (starting to split) papers etc are tied in a carrier bag to take with me.
I arrive with a minute to spare. There is to be half an hour of preparation and talking before the hour’s hypnotherapy session. This includes a large chart showing the ill-effects of smoking on the human body. I am asked to pick my favourites. I opt for emphysema (well it would be rotten not to be able to walk very far), stroke because my Mother (a smoker) had several of them, heart trouble and mouth and throat cancer as a homage to John Diamond. Next Jacquie passes a small bottle with brown liquid over to me asks me to smell it
“What is it?” she asks.
I sniff deeply but cannot detect even the smallest odour.
“I don’t know, what is it?” I ask.
“It is tap water with four old cigarette ends – most people are nearly sick with the smell”. I don’t tell her but, since yesterday, it is probably sweeter smelling than my living room.
Once we have reiterated why I want to give up smoking – health and money basically, we are off. Jacquie tells me that the tape she is playing was made by a clever friend and carries subliminal messages within the music. At this point I have to tell her that I can’t hear any music – she has forgotten about my deafness – which unfortunately I cannot blame on smoking.
So she has to rewind and start again. The session consists of relaxing gradually from the head down to the toes, imagining a lovely beach, walking from the dry warm sand to the wet solid stuff pleasantly lying in a hammock listening to Jacquie’s voice but never losing consciousness. It was all very pleasant and relaxing except on one occasion when she clapped her hands sharply and made me jump even though I was warned it was coming. So, except for the subliminal messages nothing I didn’t know about.
I go shopping after the session and feel somewhat disappointed that I don’t feel a great deal different from usual. The rest of the day I sleep, read and watch any old rubbish on the television. A couple of friends phone but I find that too much – I need 100% of my time to concentrate on not smoking.
I drink water constantly and when I have a craving drop one drop of Bach’s Rescue Remedy on my tongue. I have survived day one but must remember that I probably imbibed enough nicotine the day before to keep me going for a few days.
Sunday 7th January 2007 is the last day that I allowed myself to smoke. I had two opened packets of Drum light tobacco, two packets of papers and about 50 filters. The Scot in me does not like to see the waste but I know, however hard I try, that that I cannot smoke the lot.
I dedicate the day to smoking and feel it is important not to wash or to cook a healthy meal. I do however clean my teeth. I manage a short walk before it gets dark – one of my favourites to the étang du Martyrs. The question is was I a martyr to the addiction of nicotine or a martyr to deny myself the pleasure – which had, kept me relatively happy over a period of 36 years.
I wallow in the mess of smoking: papers, dog-ends bits of tobacco and an absence of oxygen. I make no phone calls and luckily get none.
Monday 8th January 2007.
Sleep later than intended and so only leave time to smoke about 3 cigarettes in total before my appointment with a hypnotherapist (Jacquie) at 9.30 am in St Nicholas du Pelem. The remaining tobacco, rolling machines (starting to split) papers etc are tied in a carrier bag to take with me.
I arrive with a minute to spare. There is to be half an hour of preparation and talking before the hour’s hypnotherapy session. This includes a large chart showing the ill-effects of smoking on the human body. I am asked to pick my favourites. I opt for emphysema (well it would be rotten not to be able to walk very far), stroke because my Mother (a smoker) had several of them, heart trouble and mouth and throat cancer as a homage to John Diamond. Next Jacquie passes a small bottle with brown liquid over to me asks me to smell it
“What is it?” she asks.
I sniff deeply but cannot detect even the smallest odour.
“I don’t know, what is it?” I ask.
“It is tap water with four old cigarette ends – most people are nearly sick with the smell”. I don’t tell her but, since yesterday, it is probably sweeter smelling than my living room.
Once we have reiterated why I want to give up smoking – health and money basically, we are off. Jacquie tells me that the tape she is playing was made by a clever friend and carries subliminal messages within the music. At this point I have to tell her that I can’t hear any music – she has forgotten about my deafness – which unfortunately I cannot blame on smoking.
So she has to rewind and start again. The session consists of relaxing gradually from the head down to the toes, imagining a lovely beach, walking from the dry warm sand to the wet solid stuff pleasantly lying in a hammock listening to Jacquie’s voice but never losing consciousness. It was all very pleasant and relaxing except on one occasion when she clapped her hands sharply and made me jump even though I was warned it was coming. So, except for the subliminal messages nothing I didn’t know about.
I go shopping after the session and feel somewhat disappointed that I don’t feel a great deal different from usual. The rest of the day I sleep, read and watch any old rubbish on the television. A couple of friends phone but I find that too much – I need 100% of my time to concentrate on not smoking.
I drink water constantly and when I have a craving drop one drop of Bach’s Rescue Remedy on my tongue. I have survived day one but must remember that I probably imbibed enough nicotine the day before to keep me going for a few days.
Wednesday 6 December 2006
What to Write?
Thoughts on writing – Meg Brookes
I want to write about real people and real events because it seems that I do not invent with any conviction – in painting too I can only paint what I can see (although the end result is abstracted). Fiction can be based on life, I know, and once the selection is made it is different from fact and could therefore be said to be fiction. I would therefore like to write some fiction. Other writing thoughts or ambitions:
My personal history written for family members who follow me – children grandchildren.
Travel writing interests me – of course you got to actually travel and that needs a bit of spare cash. I read travel writers but fear that I could not be a lone traveller and writer. I would need to test this out by taking a journey alone with a view to writing about it. Also ‘travel writing’ could be interpreted in different ways, for example – going to live somewhere away from home.
Writing portraits – in a journalistic sense. I have done a bit of this for the AIKB bulletin (now defunct).
I am interested in art criticism – visiting exhibitions – writing these up in language that most people would appreciate rather than the often high-fallutin prose used by art historians. (I have a certain knowledge of art history.)
Autobiography – there are writing groups who concentrate on writing autobiographical pieces as a kind of therapy or purging of problems. This would require a certain group agreement.
Writing for fun.
Themes that are of particular interest to me are
The English social class system and to what extent it still exists – perhaps making comparisons to the social class system in Brittany, France or elsewhere.
Philosophies as they are lived out in different societies – sounds much grander than I would or even could present it.
Economic migrants – are we economic migrants?
Fiction:
The last year has led me to think that I am not ready to write fiction – even though I spent the greater part of my life reading the stuff. Odd that it doesn’t prepare one for doing it.
At the back of my mind is the wish to write fiction – probably by fictionalising an autobiographical piece.
Technical Writing
Worked as a technical author (for end users in software) for 8 years. I have also written for a website www.wcities.com – a guide to what to do and where to go in Stratford and the w. midlands.
420 words 06 December 2006
I want to write about real people and real events because it seems that I do not invent with any conviction – in painting too I can only paint what I can see (although the end result is abstracted). Fiction can be based on life, I know, and once the selection is made it is different from fact and could therefore be said to be fiction. I would therefore like to write some fiction. Other writing thoughts or ambitions:
My personal history written for family members who follow me – children grandchildren.
Travel writing interests me – of course you got to actually travel and that needs a bit of spare cash. I read travel writers but fear that I could not be a lone traveller and writer. I would need to test this out by taking a journey alone with a view to writing about it. Also ‘travel writing’ could be interpreted in different ways, for example – going to live somewhere away from home.
Writing portraits – in a journalistic sense. I have done a bit of this for the AIKB bulletin (now defunct).
I am interested in art criticism – visiting exhibitions – writing these up in language that most people would appreciate rather than the often high-fallutin prose used by art historians. (I have a certain knowledge of art history.)
Autobiography – there are writing groups who concentrate on writing autobiographical pieces as a kind of therapy or purging of problems. This would require a certain group agreement.
Writing for fun.
Themes that are of particular interest to me are
The English social class system and to what extent it still exists – perhaps making comparisons to the social class system in Brittany, France or elsewhere.
Philosophies as they are lived out in different societies – sounds much grander than I would or even could present it.
Economic migrants – are we economic migrants?
Fiction:
The last year has led me to think that I am not ready to write fiction – even though I spent the greater part of my life reading the stuff. Odd that it doesn’t prepare one for doing it.
At the back of my mind is the wish to write fiction – probably by fictionalising an autobiographical piece.
Technical Writing
Worked as a technical author (for end users in software) for 8 years. I have also written for a website www.wcities.com – a guide to what to do and where to go in Stratford and the w. midlands.
420 words 06 December 2006
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