Note to Chantix flunkees: there's still hope even after the magic pill fails

June 19th, 2009 by Kurt Niland

smokes 100x100“It’s my mind-set this time,” Eric Wolbert told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “This time I’m going into it celebrating that I’m quitting rather than worrying about not being able to and how hard it was.”

Wolbert, who has been a non-smoker for 30 days, attributes his success to seven-week group therapy session at Washington University’s Siteman Cancer Center. Like many others who have tried to quit smoking, Wolbert used Chantix unsuccessfully in his previous attempts to quit.

I can relate to Wolbert’s experience. I also used Chantix unsuccessfully for months, spending well over $400 for the drug. After a couple of weeks, I found that my cravings had dropped from a pack a day to half a pack a day, but they never subsided any more than that. I decided that I needed old fashioned will power to quit the other half pack. But my will power was in short supply. It was insufficient. But lack of willpower was why I started taking Chantix in the first place. The desire to quit was like being bound in a straightjacket.

Two months into my Chantix prescription, I realized that my progress had stalled. Another month and I heard the clock ticking. My 16-week Chantix regimen was three-fourths over and I never progressed beyond week two.

Worst of all, I hated the way I started to feel on the drug: sluggish, prone to fits of depression and self-pity, some of the worst anxiety I have ever experienced, an inability to focus, forgetfulness, absent mindedness, an aversion to social occasions, and intense dreams that seemed to stamp my days with a residual “cruddy” feeling.

I stopped Chantix right after warnings about a possible link between the drug and suicide emerged. I could imagine myself going down that path if I continued treatment.

I mostly felt like myself again about 4 days after stopping Chantix. The exceptions were that I had a high anxiety level and an inability to concentrate. At first I thought these symptoms were related to reduced nicotine intake, but the problems grew worse even after I started smoking more and more.

I wondered if there was such a thing as Chantix detox. I researched the idea online but couldn’t find anything. I turned to natural, holistic methods of nicotine and drug detoxification. I just wanted Chantix out of my body and out of my brain.

Several months after I became a Chantix dropout (which was a difficult fact to face given that Chantix is the most widely hailed therapy ever) I decided I had had enough of thinking about quitting and trying to quit and promising to quit. I just needed to quit, period, before I lost my sanity.

I became a non-smoker by following the advice of Allen Carr, the guru whose books and “Easyway” seminars have helped many people around the world quit smoking without the use of drugs and nicotine replacement therapies.

Carr died a couple of years ago, but while he was alive he claimed his program had nearly a 100% success rate in getting people to stop smoking permanently and without withdrawals. Moreover, Carr claimed his program required no willpower whatsoever. I laughed at that idea at first.

Carr taught people how to navigate the mental labyrinth that smokers become lost in after they abstain from cigarettes. He called this the “nicotine trap,” and came up with more ways than Houdini to escape it.

Carr taught me to recognize the physical sensations of nicotine withdrawal; not to fight them or grit my teeth in resistance or try to squash them out but to just sit in quiet acceptance and observation of them whenever they emerged. In doing so, I realized that nicotine withdrawal and cravings weren’t as bad as everyone says they are. In fact, merely observing the physical sensations of these nicotine fits would cause them to subside almost as quickly as they came.

There was, of course, much more to his program, but understanding and accepting what I experienced was essentially what helped me to quit. Other parts of Carr’s program served as “get out of jail free” cards every time I had an urge to smoke.

As Eric Wolbert of St. Louis suggested, and as Allen Carr himself advised, smokers should regard quitting with anticipation and delight, never with fear and dread. That may sound like an impossible task to someone locked within the “nicotine prison,” but many programs and seminars exist that give smokers the right tools need to unleash the simple but incredible power of their minds … and to step outside of nicotine’s clutches once and for all.

  • Rob

    I'm curious about why the author needs to call Chantix users 'flunkees.' Wouldn't 'users' or 'patients' be as accurate, but without the overtones of emotion and resentment? It's not hard to see the link between the failure of the drug to work for him, and his summary dismissal of those for whom it might be working. I am myself a non-smoking flunkee thanks to Chantix.

  • Rob

    I'm curious about why the author needs to call Chantix users 'flunkees.' Wouldn't 'users' or 'patients' be as accurate, but without the overtones of emotion and resentment? It's not hard to see the link between the failure of the drug to work for him, and his summary dismissal of those for whom it might be working. I am myself a non-smoking flunkee thanks to Chantix.

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