Quitting

How to kick a habit

Habits are, by definition, hard to kick and I’m very much a creature of habit – having a similar routine everyday just feels right. I know where I’m at, what I’m doing, and what comes next. It’s one of the reasons I like going to the gym at the same time every week, even if that seems inflexible or annoying.

I’m not sure if this is strictly true in every sense but I feel like most of the time habits are harmless: doing something the same way each time is unlikely to hurt others, only yourself. Being trapped in a mental prison of same-ness is, at worst, going to infuriate those around you.

Up until recently, I had a habit that existed in the background of my life, the details of which I won’t go into too deeply. But suffice to say, this habit involved doing something multiple times per day (or hour, or even minute) of the ‘smoke variety’. The mind-bending smoke variety, shall we say.

For a long time, this habit wasn’t having a noticeable impact on my life; and in many ways, at the time when I kicked the habit, it still wasn’t.¹ The true issue was being beholden to something – not being in control of what I was doing, needing something.

I know a lot of people who smoke,² some of them my very closest friends, and that habit is expensive, comes with a certain odour, and is extremely difficult to quit. I’m happy to admit I probably drink too much, which is in itself a habit – going to the pub equals ordering a pint, which equals ordering another, and another – but this was my true vice in life.³

One fine Thursday, I decided I’d finally had enough. As someone who can struggle to find the right words to express my feelings – instead resorting to anger, or annoyance, or just saying nothing at all – I confided in Chat, in Incognito Mode. For all of its flaws, explaining your exact situation⁴ to an AI bot often yields helpful results.

Talking to someone – something, sorry – immediately made me feel better; a problem shared and all that. Armed with a script to read to my partner (again, not so good at finding the right words), I now had a plan: completely cut usage until 6PM every day, at the very earliest, and see how that went.

I’ve always thought I was someone with relatively high will-power, even accounting for the situation I was in, and to my comfort I found quitting to be pretty easy. After that Thursday, when I went until 6PM, the next days and weeks have remained blissfully free. I didn’t even get bad withdrawals.⁵

To keep myself honest, I’ve been occasionally logging my progress with Chat. Because of that, I can tell you I had absolutely nothing between May 29 until last week.⁶ Yeah, I had some (delicious) chocolate in that time, but these were not my main problem. The ubiquity of vapes, the ease, the routine, the eventual shame…

Going 56 days (or eight weeks) without proved to be pretty easy. Kicking the daytime habit was my main goal – that’s the part that made me feel unmoored and fundamentally a liar, at least by omission – and the evenings have been surprisingly easy to deal with.⁷

My main feeling is pride. Between November 2021 and eight weeks ago, I spent about 4.5 years – 54 months, or 237 weeks⁸ – in a daily prison, albeit a comfortable one. I’m not even sure how many vapes I bought in that time but it could easily be over 150. That habit is now totally gone, or at least functionally gone.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely quit Mary Jane – there is a pleasure there occasionally that I don’t want to lose, and I’m not the kind of person where setting hard rules like that works especially well. I ‘quit’ my excessive chocolate consumption (2015-2023) in much the same way: never buying it, and not having it in the house.

The funny thing is that I actually don’t feel too different now. In fact, the main difference is that I feel more honest: I’m no longer dependent on something, sneaking off, not being able to look people in the eye. I’m free. As I approach 30, or true adulthood, freedom is a blessing and a foundation.

Mentally, things are the same. I’m still sharp and quick to crack jokes; there was never really a dullness unless I had a lot, mainly because I always chose the light, head-y strains.⁹ Of course, this was part of the problem: having the ability at anytime, even early in the morning, is Not Ideal.

I’m sure there will be bumps in the road – how could there not be – but the truly hard work of admitting the problem, of taking the first days as they came, is over. I’ve now banked eight straight weeks of rewired experiences and survived. Now to get and sit in the park and enjoy the sun.

1. I suppose this could be up for debate but I’ve spoken to people about it, and there was no impact on my ability at work.

2. Being totally honest, if I didn’t have asthma, I probably would be addicted to smoking too.

3. Being able to say “was” feels so good.

4. In my case: chronic usage (no pun intended) pretty much daily since late 2021, seeping into every aspect of my life, including oftentimes during work.

5. Reading the r/leaves subreddit, which is a great resource for making you want to quit, this seems like an atypical experience – people describe all kinds of horrible stuff, both physical and mental. I’ve felt pretty much normal, bar a few evening cravings.

6. I consciously made an exception for Latitude Festival (the 20th anniversary, no less), and I haven’t had a hit since early Monday morning.

7. I think quitting in the summer has also helped, counterintuitively; leaving the house without a vape does a lot of the work. The short winter days might prove to be a challenge.

8. Chat helpfully clarifies that including nine weeks of foreign holidays, the figure is actually around 228 weeks.

9. The numbers of times I had to look up sativa vs. indica is comical, and I still don’t think I could tell you the different qualities now.