Project smoke free has lifted off. More than thirty cigarettes a day is just too many, so for the first time in my life, I tried to ditch nicotine with the help of a hypnotist. Here’s how it went.
I’d already tried it once. It was lockdown and I was in a Zoom call, letting someone hypnotise me into quitting smoking. I was in Vienna, she in Los Angeles. Though my hypnotherapist is a roaring success in health-crazy la-la land, she didn’t get far with me. Quite the opposite, in fact. Whenever she used the word «smoke-free», I wanted to spark up a ciggy. And straight after the session, I did exactly that.
Stopping smoking: from a trance state to more freedom
More freedom: my core beliefs dissolve
Claudia describes the decay of my paradise so mercilessly that it genuinely hurts. It’s then, at the peak of my pain, that I’m to hurl away the cigarettes symbolic of my addiction. A feeling of relief comes over me immediately. The image of the garden dissolves, positive affirmations appearing in its place. After my session, I really do find work easy. Apparently, you don’t need to smoke to get anything done. Who knew?
Health, sexuality, sports and sustainability. Delve into all aspects of this life less ordinary with the right amount of curiosity, humour and a pinch of salt.
One could confidently describe my little act of defiance as the silliest sort of rebellion. After all, isn’t freedom a rebel’s most valuable commodity? But it’s not like having to go buy cigarettes first thing in the morning is a testament to freedom. Addiction rules your life and lulls you into a false sense of a security. What’s more, in my mind, smoking was associated with achievement, not pleasure. A treat? Not so much. My behaviour had little to do with enjoyment. My thought process was toxic: when you smoke, you can do more. When you smoke, your writing is better. When you smoke, you’re more relaxed. I smoke, therefore I’m deserving. I smoke, therefore I am.
It was when I started smoking more than 30 a day that I realised I needed help. All the different advice you invariably get in saying so, however, filled me with uncertainty. So I decided to give hypnosis a second chance. I’ve no issue with trance states. In fact, I’m perfectly capable of drifting off into dream worlds. On this occasion, I decided to do so in a comfy chair in the office of Claudia Schwinghammer. She works with «Rapid Transformational Therapy», a combination of psychotherapy, neurolinguistic programming and neuroscience which, as the name suggests, is supposed to help you make quick, long-lasting change.
Incidentally, it bears no resemblance to the stereotypical image that most people probably picture when they think of hypnosis. You’re never completely out of it or so easily manipulated that you start clucking like a chicken on cue. Sitting in the aforementioned winged armchair, Claudia and I have a pre-session chat. I confide in her about the core beliefs I’ve manifested, crises big and small, and what role nicotine has played in my life to date. I also make it clear to her that I don’t want to be one of those stuck-up, finger-wagging non-smokers. All I want is to be like I am now, just with no cigarettes. Or fewer of them. As long as I stop poisoning myself at work every day – that’s the main thing. Reduction over radicalism has always been my motto. But is this clever or cowardly? I’m still to find out.
With her gentle voice, Claudia puts me into a trance-like state and addresses my subconscious. She then sets about strengthening values seated there such as strength, freedom, autonomy and liveliness. It’s hard to describe how hypnosis feels. I’m in a deeply relaxed, waking state, with only a very limited awareness of my surroundings. Those first few seconds of surrender are kind of unpleasant. We humans don’t like giving up control. I’m now in the alpha state between being wide awake and dreaming, which provides the ideal foundation for positive change and learning experiences. Exactly what I need in order to wean myself off nicotine.
We also do a lot of work with images during therapy. For instance, when Claudia has me walk down an imaginary set of stairs. With every step, every «deeper, you’re going deeper, you’re going really deep», I drift further into the trance. Now, I’m ready for her suggestions. She says I don’t need to smoke anymore (she rarely refers to it by name, instead calling it a «bothersome/unhealthy habit»). She says I’m free, strong, healthy, a better writer than ever; that I should choose life over death. Although my memory of the details is blurry, one scene in particular has stuck with me: I’m standing in a green paradise, grass between my toes. Flowers bloom, birds sing and animals and children play beneath sturdy trees. And then, every part of this beautiful piece of nature starts to go up in smoke. Everything turns grey. Everything is terrible and sad. The birds rasp and cough, cigarettes dangling from their beaks. I’m suddenly knee-deep – waist-deep even – in cigarette butts.
For the 21 days, I listen to the audio recording of the hypnosis before falling asleep with the intention of internalising it, of becoming free. I hover in the safety of this no-man’s land for ten minutes a day. And for the rest of the time? I go through hell. At the beginning, at any rate. At night, I’m plagued with nightmares. In the daytime, I alternate between sweating and shaking. I’m scatterbrained, unfocused and irritable. Extremely irritable. I actually consider myself to be an agreeable person, but these days, interacting with me comes with a health warning. It’s because I put up a wall when things get too much for me. There’s no more smokescreen. And I’m mistrustful of everything. At this point, I’m always in contact with Claudia, sometimes tearful, sometimes proud. Being able to afford the luxury of some additional therapy pays off. I soon discover I don’t need the nicotine patches I’d bought as a precaution.
So, how do I feel now, four months on? At some point, it stopped hurting. I still don’t smoke during the day. Just when I drink alcohol, which luckily doesn’t happen too often. Are there really people who «smoke for pleasure»? Do these rare, mythical creatures exist? It’s probably a deceptive label. Although I’ve broken down an important (and very damaging) belief set, I still want to conquer the rest of my addiction with Claudia’s help. Until then, there are bound to be a few battles with the nicotine haze on the cards. I need to learn to fill the hole I’ve burned into myself. But I never thought that I’d be able to reach a new level of freedom. And even if there’s still a way to go, I’m infinitely grateful for that.
