Escaping a killer to finally live and breathe freely

I'd discovered a new kind of suffering, unlike anything I'd expected or experienced.

It felt like I was grabbing onto an electric fence and not letting go, no matter what.

Now, I better understand why, according to US statistics, over 70 percent of smokers say they want to quit, yet only 7 percent succeed on the first try, just 3.6 percent do so cold turkey and most never do. It's truly hellish.

Chances double for those who use nicotine-replacement therapy and triple for those who also use counseling. But, while NRT works for many people, I abstained, mostly because it would ultimately prolong the inevitable withdrawals from — and slavery to — the chemical.

My symptoms differed from most quitters. Many feel like they have the flu, cough spastically as their body expels toxins, suffer migraines and are gripped by depression, anxiety and irritability.

I just had the unrelenting electric shocks, which may be worse — but worth it.

I've spent three-quarters of my life dreading flights, enduring withdrawals during social situations, excusing myself from enjoyable activities and even missing magical moments with my children.

For years, I'd hoped to quit by my 40th birthday, on March 31.

I'd long said so, with as many qualifiers as I could cram into the sentence: "It would be really great if I could hopefully, possibly stop smoking, ideally before I turn 40." Weeks before my designated quit date, that became, "I will quit smoking". That day, it became, "I'm a nonsmoker" (who's suffering for it, willingly).

This mindset is crucially different from, "I'm trying to quit".

I'd tried several times before coming to China — a place many expats call "a smoker's heaven and a quitter's hell" — but never made it one full day. So, I gave up quitting until I pretty much knew it would be my last time. I'd long heard many successful quitters say, "I knew I was truly ready." I finally was.

It's particularly difficult in China, where a third of the world's cigarettes are smoked. Over half of men and nearly 27 percent of all people older than 15 smoke in the country, where over 3,000 people die every day from smoking-related illnesses, according to the World Health Organization. Worldwide, half of smokers die from related illnesses, the WHO reports.

That's the thing. We think of smoking as a nasty habit that harms our health as opposed to a debilitating, tyrannical, addictive murderer. Nicotine is also a liar, promising to relieve stress, but, in actuality, only creating more stress through withdrawals. And it's a thief, stealing moments of your life until it ends it years early.

Nicotine is recognized as one of the most addictive substances, ranking in the top spots depending on the list's criteria, and usually first among legal drugs.

The human toll of this is made clear in a series of graphic videos produced by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that helped me overcome the worst temptations to lapse. They show nicotine addicts describing how they continued smoking after having parts of their faces removed, multiple heart surgeries treating smoking-related illnesses or even tracheotomies.

I didn't quit after my brother's lung collapsed from a smoking-related illness years ago. And I'm not surprised the first thing he wanted to do afterward was light up.

But this year, I became willing to do anything and try everything to quit.

I'd tracked down resources for hypnosis, acupuncture and a help hotline, and bought kilograms of sunflower seeds to chew on. I bought a fidget spinner, downloaded quitting apps, planned to write a powerful statement of purpose, and much more.

Instead, what worked for me — and may not for others — was making it publically known I was quitting, for support and accountability; walking from the moment I finished work until I hit my home gym; and lifting weights for hours on end, taking breaks only for yoga or sanda (Chinese kickboxing) until I literally collapsed in bed.

One night, I bought 10.5 kilograms of ice — as much as the delivery guy could carry — and took my first ice bath as a distraction and to replenish endorphins, dopamine and epinephrine your brain stops producing when you quit nicotine.

A friend who'd quit smoking by drinking chili flakes in ice water complimented me on my fitness discipline. I told him it wasn't discipline. I absolutely couldn't stand still.

It was the same concept as his concoction — burning pain as a distraction and a trigger for neurochemical responses.

One friend and her husband offered to pay thousands of yuan to buy me cessation aids. I told them, instead, I'd pay them the equivalent amount if I failed, as a "fine".

Another friend took up jumping rope to show support, by also doing something difficult yet healthy. Her brother, who I've never met and lives in a different province, joined her.

And my daughter, who knew I was suffering every waking moment and experiencing insomnia, gave me her plush toy seal and stuffed doll to comfort me at night.

Two months after quitting, I haven't fully escaped this no-longer-new kind of suffering.

The electric fence's voltage has dulled but not ceased and sometimes still surges intensely.

But I'm not only extending my life span but also expanding my life's scope. I'm still suffering — but I'm finally free.