I’ve heard that the most prevalent and salient reason for relapse amongst addicts is realising that they are able to stop. I get that. For more than a year now, not smoking has remained a desperate struggle never to go through the hell of giving up again. It has been hard to find effective regulation tools to replace cigarettes.
By the time I stopped smoking, cigarettes had been my most constant companion for almost four decades, except for about three months when I was 24. I had finished my Masters and was flying back to Jozi from Gqeberha (then Port Elizabeth). It was the early nineties and smoking on flights was still allowed, so I made the most of it – along with the free booze – knowing I would have to stop cold turkey as soon as we landed. I was going to stay with my mom while I looked for work.
My smoking journey started when I was studying for my end-of-school exams. Crammed subject matter caked together in a blob where my brain used to be, spinning so fast inside my head that I feared the lopsided mass might crash through my skull and splatter across my desk. I remember walking the kilometre to the corner store and buying a packet of Camel Lights and a blue Bic mini lighter, full of hope that I could self-medicate my brain’s speed wobble. What I don’t remember is what made me think that smoking would help – probably some advert I had seen in a magazine or on television.
I had my first cigarette alone in my room, exhaling into a wet cloth. Cigarettes quickly became a way to relax, take a break from sitting at my desk, and reduce anxiety. They soothed me when I felt low, bored, disconnected, overwhelmed, angry, stressed, or under pressure. It felt as if smoking was essential to regulating my emotions. I think I was more resilient as a smoker. Some might even say cigarettes kept me out of jail.
I have never been known for my physical prowess. When someone suggests that I exercise to cope with stress, lift my mood, or self-soothe, I immediately feel the anxiety pulsing in my chest. And I am left wondering if they even know me at all. People like me (and I am not alone in this, promise) don’t get what they need from physical self-soothing. That aversion to strenuous physical activity is what sent me looking for at least one other way to regulate my emotions and self-soothe – something that could work for me and feel like a worthy replacement for nicotine delivered in combustible tobacco form.
I’m still figuring it out. But the search itself has helped me see self-soothing less as one perfect replacement for cigarettes and more as a menu of small, repeatable practices that can meet different needs at different times. Which brings me to this post: if you’ve quit smoking and are struggling to self-soothe without cigarettes, I want you to know that you have options, and lots of them. You don’t have to love exercise, meditate perfectly, or become a different person overnight. The trick is to find what works for you. Here is a summary of the options I have encountered on my cessation journey, to help you replace the soothing once offered by smoking cigarettes:
Sensory comforting (i.e. the options that work best for me) include regulating through touch (e.g., textures, weighted blankets, massage); sight (e.g., candlelight, visual art); sound (e.g., listening to songs that resonate with you emotionally, white noise, humming); smell (e.g., aromatherapy, scented candles, fresh herbs); and taste (e.g., herbal teas, mindful eating, comfort food in moderation).
Mental, cognitive, and emotional tools can include positive self-talk, visualisation, journaling, affirmations, reframing, grounding techniques, mindfulness meditation, or simply reading something comforting like poetry, a favourite book, or inspiring quotes.
Creative and expressive self-soothing which can include artmaking (drawing, painting, sculpting, doodling), writing (journaling, poetry, expressive writing), music (playing an instrument, singing, building playlists), or crafts (knitting, DIY projects, colouring books, baking, cooking).
Relational and social self-soothing can include talking to a trusted friend or therapist, cuddling with a pet, reading comforting messages or letters, engaging in safe physical touch (e.g., hugs, handholding), or joining a supportive community or group.
Physical activity approaches (i.e. approaches that generally don’t work for me, except maybe breathwork) include breathwork or deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, warmth (a blanket, bath, or tea), gentle movement, exercise, dancing, swaying, chanting, etc.