About Us

FOR MANY YEARS, I HAVE GIVEN THE PROGRAM FOR SMOKING CESSATION
AWAY. I WANTED EVERYONE TO BENEFIT FROM MY EXPERIENCE AND SHARE
MY SUCCESS WITH THE PLANET.

HERE IT IS. THE FREE SMOKING PROGRAM THAT WILL LIBERATE YOU FROM A
WRETCHED DISEASE I KNOW ALL TOO WELL. TAKE A SECOND TO READ MY
STORY.

About Us

Debi’s Story
Well, first, as my good friend says, I’m sorry it’s come to this. If you’re anything like me, you feel betrayed and furious
at this addiction. I loved cigarettes. I loved the shiny gold flip box and the long slim styles and on wild nights at the
bar the hard core soft pack serious cigarettes. I loved them all. I loved menthol, I loved regulars if you were
smoking them and you were buying. I loved the feeling of sophistication that I associated with smoking. I fancied
myself living a fabulous Casa Blanca life with my pretty little cigarette case and my beautiful gold lighter with my
sorority crest on the outside.   Of course I had a zippo for those nights at the rodeo when I needed to look cool in
cowboy boots and suede jackets. I was a snob about disposable lighters. I’d rather use clever matches from exotic
places than resort to one of those tacky plastic butane things! Oh I was a fox. And cigarettes were my very best
companion. Not booze or pills or even a hot date could give me the feeling of well being that my favorite cigarette
provided. I loved to light them and feel that initial high from the first drag. I loved the feeling of buying a new
carton of cigarettes in the pretty box with gold raised embossed lettering. Used to pride myself on knowing my
friends favorite brands and give cartons, gift wrapped with huge bows, as gifts.

When it came to non smoking areas…uh huh. Those rules did not apply to me. I smoked anywhere I darned well
pleased cuz who cares. Smoking was cool and it was the thing to do and it never once occurred to me that smoking
in someone’s face was rude and it certainly did not register that my second hand smoke might affect someone’s
health. Smoking is a very selfish disease isn’t it. I never cared for a minute about anyone else but myself and my
smoking satisfaction. I could not imagine five minutes without a cigarette or planning for the next smoke.

What started at age fifteen as something cool and quaint had turned into a filthy habit that made me into a selfish
slave, addicted to cigarettes and without choice. My first time to “swear off” was college. I was always going to quit
after the next test, after I finished that term paper, after I got over the break up with a boyfriend, this summer for sure,
before I go on the trip, I’ll quit for Easter, I’ll quit right after New Year’s, on my birthday…and on went the bargaining
phase. I tried cutting down and would then pat myself on the back that I had such magnificent willpower that I
could control the number of cigarettes that I smoked. This achievement would be rewarded with a pack of exotic
imported colored cigarettes with gold wrapped filters. On I’d go until very quickly I escalated right back up to my
usual pack and a half a day. I would instantly forget my bravado about quitting and go on my merry way until the
next time I vowed that it was time to cut back.

As the years went by, I spent very little time feeling remorse about smoking. Mostly I justified it if I thought about it at
all. Never, in all my years of smoking did I ever try to quit. Never. I was famous for saying “Oh, I could quit any time
I want, but I don’t need to quit and I don’t want to quit, so I don’t have to.” I cannot imagine how many times I said
that. Here’s my favorite…

I was convinced that smoking helped curb my appetite. Upon rare occasion, I would consider quitting but I was
certain that I would gain weight. The funniest thing happened. When I decided to stop smoking and begin creating
a program to help myself, I found all the pictures of me holding a cigarette. They weren’t hard to come by since I
could not form a sentence in my brain without one. In the collection is a picture of me so overweight it was
pathetic, sitting in a huge mu mu over huge blue jeans, my hair a mess, my face puffy and red, with a big old
cigarette hanging out of my mouth. Yep, cigarettes were a great diet aid. I remember the day I burned all those
old pictures in effigy as I started my new life. Gosh, that seems like a whole person ago.

My bargaining and elaborate justification phase ended in my late twenties. I went to the doctor for yet another bout
of pneumonia, and he told me that my constant flu attacks and other health problems were due to smoking. He said
these words that I will never forget, “Debi, if you don’t stop smoking I’d hate to see what you look like in fifteen years.”
My very first thought after he said that was “What the hell, I’ve got fifteen years.” This bothered me. It was really the
first time that I felt conflicted. What was I saying to myself? I was willing to go through fifteen more years of sickness
and the inevitability of serious diseases for what? To try to get back that feeling of belonging and sophistication that
I had when I started? It bothered me so much that on my way home, hovered over the steering wheel, so sick that I
could barely see, I forgot to buy cigarettes.

That night I laid in bed sick with fever and unable to move. I don’t think I have ever been that ill. My lungs gurgled
with fluid and I was just miserable. At midnight I woke up like I always did at midnight for my pre-dawn cigarette fix.
I was so sick and I sat up and said to myself “I just can’t smoke a thing tonight. I am just so sick.” And besides, I did
not have any cigarettes left.   And so there I was, at one o’clock in the morning, burning up with fever, coughing
and crying; sitting on the floor rummaging through the trash can for the remnants of old nasty cigarettes, lighting
them and smoking them. Not my finest hour.

I was a pretty agnostic little thing and rather leaned toward the atheistic side of the spiritual issue, but in that
moment I was utterly defeated. I looked up and said in an unusually clear voice “If there is anything out there, do
something to help me. Because I am totally beaten.” No there was not a burning bush and the room didn’t light
up. In fact, I lit another coffee stained butt and smoked it and then crawled back to bed.

But the next day something totally crazy happened. I was still sick as a dog, but I had this crystal clear thought that
woke me up. In my little fuzzy head this idea came to me: ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if you had been smoke free by
Halloween.’ That was the most preposterous thing I had ever heard. But the thought would not leave me…all day! I
argued with myself all day. No way could I quit anything by then. It was way too soon. Well, that pesty thought
would not go away. I even smoked extra cigarettes despite the pneumonia. ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if you had been
smoke free by Halloween.’ Over and over again.   When I woke up at midnight like I always did, I was shocked that
my first thought wasn’t where are my cigarettes. My first thought was ‘wouldn’t it be nice if you had been smoke free
by Halloween.’ I sat up and said out loud “Okay already! I give up! I’ll do it. But you better show me how!”

The next day I consulted my friend in a twelve step program and discussed a strategy for quitting by this absurd
date. I got out a calendar and figured out how I could do it by then. I knew that I was not going to approach this as
a way to beat myself up. I’ve done that enough in my lifetime. I knew people who put rubber bands on their wrists
and snapped themselves every time they wanted a cigarette. Knowing me, I figured I’d find a way to make that a
fun thing and I wanted to save my life not make myself more miserable.   So, I told all my friends that I might be just
a little wacky for awhile and that I might need their understanding more than usual. To my surprise, everyone was
supportive. I think now that the poor things were so sick of eating my second hand smoke that they were happy to
see me quit.

Then I thought about what I was up against. But, what exactly was I up against? I really didn’t know a thing about
cigarettes. Now, folks, this was 1985, long before internet research. So I took myself to the library and researched
cigarettes: their history, the chemicals in them, what physical properties in them contributed to my addiction. Then
I looked up reports on big tobacco companies and was shocked at what I found. By the time I did all my research, I
was furious. I vowed that the day I quit, those companies would never get one more cent from me. This was before
nicotine gum and patches. But now that I know more about them…well I won’t get into that. It’s all in the second
book of this system.

Anyway, I knew I had to do more than just figure out what it was about the cigarettes themselves that got me
hooked. I had to look long and hard at myself. I looked at a number of self help programs including twelve step
formulas and other systems for self improvement and adapted them to cigarette addiction. Then I got to work.

I sort of created the program as I went along and never felt so uncool in all my life. But, the more I worked on
myself the more excited I got about my life. I knew from my research that water, vitamins and good diet were going
to be essential to my recovery. The chemicals in cigarettes are designed to promote bad diet, sedentary lifestyles
and general lack of self care. As a result, about five days before my stop date, I noticed that I had lost weight. By
that time I didn’t have a lot of weight to lose, but it turned out that during the time I had been working my little
system, I had lost ten pounds. Not bad for a smoke fiend.

My stop day was October 24, 1985. I had a great day! I went shopping, to the movies, to dinner with friends, spent
the entire day in the company of people. Chewed on or pretend smoked my straws (you’ll learn about that in the
workbook) and went to bed happy as a lark. I slept through the whole night. Didn’t wake up at midnight or anything!
On the morning of October 25th, I woke up absolutely hysterical. This was a bad way to start the day. Withdrawals
were not totally intense, because I had been alternating real cigarettes with my straws for quite a few days. But, my
friend, withdrawals were upon me…and I was not a happy girl. I made it through the day with my affirmations and
all the tools I had acquired in my workbook process. But, no, it was not an easy day. I did, however, make it. On
October 26th I was ready to smash something, so I did. I gathered every empty can I could find and stomped them
to smithereens. Then I felt better. Day three was unusually calm and actually a lovely day. I was so relieved. Day
four was okay and day five was even better. On day six I had some lovely activities planned along with a symphony.
Ah, it was lovely. This, I thought, is it. I’ve got it licked. Well, day seven proved me wrong as I was driving in my car
and suddenly enraged. I pulled over to the side of the road and got out and kicked the tires. Hurt my toe something
awful. Took my mind off cigarettes for the next three days.

This roller coaster of withdrawals was short lived because I had given myself permission to experience it. I was not
going to try to make the quitting painless. I knew there would be unpleasantness, but every day of that first two weeks
I had a thought that would not leave me: ‘Never again will I go through this. I will never smoke another cigarette as
long as I live because I don’t ever want to go through this again. Life is too short’.

And so life went on and by the end of the second week, it was pretty much over. I had all my straws and mints and
that saved my life. I lost an additional five pounds because I was exercising and drinking lots of fluids and the
vitamin supplements were making me feel so much better.

The next year life and loss happened. The ebb and flow of life paraded along. One of my fears had been this:
What if something bad happens and I can’t deal with it without a cigarette? Well, bad stuff did happen, and good
stuff happened, and when events came to pass, I dealt with them by using the healthy alternatives I had created in
my workbook of recovery.

And now twenty years has passed and in that time I’ve helped lots of people who have helped lots of people and I
now pass the system on to you. I am your number one cheerleader and I believe that you can have victory over this
affliction. If you need to talk I or one of my associates will talk to you. If you need to get help for yourself as you go
through the process, get it. If you need other assistance in addition to this program, by all means go for it. Do
whatever you have to do to beat this. I will be here to help you if you need it. The Information Book will, hopefully,
wake you up and make you good and motivated to make a change. The Workbook will hopefully be an exciting
journey of self discovery. I learned so much about myself in that process and redefined my idea of what it is to be
cool and what it is to be truly sophisticated.

All my best wishes and congratulations for taking this first step. The universe has already answered your call for
help. Now, let’s get after it and deal with this. It’s time to set your date.

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