Stoptober - Diary of a Quitter: Day 30

Matthew Backhouse smokes his last cigarette before starting Stoptober. Photo / Nick Reed

Journalist Matthew Backhouse chronicles his efforts to quit smoking for Stoptober in a daily diary.

Thirty days later, and I'm still coughing up brownish-black tar. I coughed so hard yesterday that I thought I was about to vomit. I know that's not a pleasant mental image, but it's the truth.

Smoking is not a clean, sanitised pastime, and neither is quitting. I have 16 years of poison to expel, and it's taking its sweet time.

Lately, I've been reflecting a lot on those last 16 years - particularly my first few months of smoking. Why did I even start?

As a child, I swore I would never smoke. My brother had suffered a collapsed lung, which prompted my parents to kick the habit. And I had asthma, which always got worse over the winter months, to the point where I would lie awake at night, struggling to breath. Why would I ever make it harder on myself?

But then came my rebellious teenage years. I had my first cigarette, I think, when I was 16. It was a Benson and Hedges. And it was absolutely disgusting.

So why did I persevere? Because I wanted to be bad-ass. Because I wanted to piss off my parents. Because I wanted the young women around me to think I was cool, carefree, mature. All that nonsense.

I tried hard to like smoking. It was sometimes disastrous. I remember one occasion, in those early days, when I smoked three cigarettes in a row. I promptly vomited, and then had to lie down on a friend's bed for half an hour. Someone was playing terrible music in the other room - I think it was bland, late-era Pink Floyd, or maybe some god-awful grunge - but regardless, there was nothing I could do about it. I was paralysed with sickness.

Cigarettes already had me under control.

Eventually it became a part of me. I dropped out of high school, worked at a laundry, played in a couple of bands, enrolled at university, wrote for the student paper, edited the student paper, graduated, studied journalism, worked my arse off to become a reporter, covered stories both mundane and sensational, and worked my way to where I am now - all as a smoker.

My entire adult identity has been one of nicotine addiction. But it doesn't have to be. I've proved that this month.

Has it been hard to turn my back on the ingrained habits, the sense of self, that I've become accustomed to over half my life? Of course.

And has it been worth it? Absolutely.

To take part in Stoptober, visit www.stoptober.nz

For help quitting, visit Quitline at www.quit.org.nz or phone 0800 778 778