Higher Power Relationships
Formerly: Through The Grace Of My Higher Power
I started smoking as a young teen. Probably about 13 or 14. I had intentionally forced myself to “smoke”, to developed what I now understand as a cigarette addiction, which I thought was just me imitating my big brother and my parents. I can remember how hard it was to force myself to be able to inhale the smoke without coughing. Outside the house, some of my friends had also started smoking. It was “cool” and I wanted to be “cool” also.
My parents smoked from the time I was born. They smoked Kool regulars, a harsh, non-filtered menthol cigarette. I started on Benson and Hedges 100s. I can remember my brother smoked them in a cigarette holder and I got hold of it and smoked a whole B&H 100 even the filter, which made me sick. I did not know when to stop. I eventually learned and like most of my peers I settled on Newports. I would occasionally buy 100s because they lasted longer - especially when I began drinking, but the marketing to our hood was Newports.
I smoked from about 13 until I was somewhere in my 40s. I tried to quit a few times, with nine months being the most time I managed. The first time I quit I was in the Navy. I remember I put together ten days without a cigarette. I felt good. So good that I gave myself a cigarette as a treat. “After all”, I told myself, “I already quit for ten days. I can do it again.” I got such a buzz from that cigarette!! And I was off to the nicotine races again for a number of years before I was able to not smoke for a whole nine month period.
Interestingly enough, that nine month no smoking stretch was more about me developing a working relationship with a Higher Power than it was about quitting smoking.
I had been in treatment for alcohol and other drugs misuse. In my first month, as my favorite distraction and pastime, I read a lot of books. All they had in fact, until that was left was a religious tract type book called “Answers to Praise”. I had avoided it because I wasn’t interested in religion. Until there was nothing else.
Finally I picked it up and started reading it. It was simple stories of people going through complex and simple tragedies, all the while praising God or Jesus for giving them the strength, showing them why they needed Him.
A couple of the stories were about people quitting smoking. It seemed simple enough. They would praise God for the fact that they smoked because it showed how weak they were and why they needed Jesus. So I thought I would give it a try. I was in treatment - there weren’t a lot of recreational opportunities anyway.
For a week, every time I lit up a cigarette, I would praise God for showing me how weak I was and wait for the quitting to happen.
One Sunday, about a week after I started my experiment, I was standing in my cubicle wondering why I had not quit yet. I said out loud something like “God I am praising you and I am still smoking whats going on?” That’s when I heard the voice. It was deep yet soft. It came from a spot outside me and just above my head. It said “You never gave me a chance”. It sounded almost matter of fact.
I was taken aback. Rather than be frightened or even wonder at “this voice” I thought about what it said and I got it. The next morning, when I woke up, I gave God a chance and let Him carry me through my morning craving. I didn’t smoke that day and 273 more.
Nine months later I was house sitting for a couple who smoked “Mores”. Mores were those long, dark brown, skinny cigarettes. They were 100s and burned a little slower than the rest. Linda M. and here husband were on vacation somewhere. They were also avid smokers who left a couple of ashtrays full of unfinished More cigarettes. For a couple of days I just looked at them and reminded myself I no longer smoked. It felt kind of good to just push the ashtray aside and watch t.v. (Of course, thinking about it now, it never occurred to me to dump the ashtrays so i wouldn’t have to see the butts!).
I was sober now, having just completed treatment. In fact the Linda M. whose house I was sitting for was a counselor at the treatment center, Hina Mauka, I “graduated” from. So, saying “no” felt like a sober win. But one night I was feeling lonelier than usual and I remember suddenly having the thought about that time, some years ago, back in the Navy, when I quit for 10 days.
When I picked up a cigarette after those 10 days I got such a buzz! And now I was remembering that buzz, on this lonely night. I remember thinking “if I got a buzz after 10 days, after 9 months I should get fucked up!” And I picked up a butt, straightened it out and lit it up. Telling myself , again, that I could quit when I wanted to, as I had just did it for nine months.
I did not get buzzed as I thought but the nicotine monkey kicked in and I, within a few days was on to a pack a day habit. The cost, I see now, of taking my will back.
It would not be until some years later, after attending meetings of Nicotine Anonymous, that I would quit for what is now almost 21 years. I had a deeper surrender this time and gave this addiction over, kicking and screaming many times, to my Higher Power. This time I did not tell myself “I could quit again because of this or that…” Instead I ket reminding myself of the massive machine designed to keep me smoking over which I was powerless and needed some kind of Divine help if Iwas going to stay quit.
My father had already quit for some years by the time I reached my nicotine bottom. My mother continued to smoke until I quit and I remember talking to her about it and she decided to quit at the same time. I believe her quitting bought her an extra 5 years of life. Cigarettes took the worst toll on her and her lungs. But I am greatful for those 5 extra years og having my mother in this world and also for the years I, too, have been blessed with.
This nicotine addiction was a hard habit to kick. Harder, for me, than alcohol. And I loved my alcohol. Recovery at times felt impossible. Worse when I walked by bars and saw the little groups huddled outside puffing and laughing away. Or when I’d see a pretty lady out on a break from something, lighting up a cigarette. Or after eating. Or while sitting at home. Or before leaving the house. Or when I’d be in a beverage meeting and someone would say something like “if you have to smoke smoke, just don’t pick up a drink”.
When I first walked into a 12 step meeting, my pre and post treatment space, they said I needed to develop a relationship with a power greater than myself. Part of that process meant looking at all the things, who had their own kind of powers, I adopted as my higher power and where they got me. Not to be overly dramatic but at the time it was clear that end of the faux-higher-power-road, for me, was broke, busted, alone and disgusted. I had to fire them. Not all at the same time. btw
By this time I was not able to laugh because of a cough I was developing. I didn’t think I had many quits left. It was time, cigarettes made it to the top of the list and I put my relationship with this new Higher Power, who I choose to call God, to work. Recovery became possible for me, one day at a time.
If you are like me I hope it becomes possible for you too.
Interesting to hear that journey and the road to freedom from nicotine's grip.