Nicotine Gum, Then Lozenges, Then Nothing: How I Finally Quit After 20 Years

I was the guy who always said he’d quit “eventually.” Eventually turned into twenty years. I’m Mike Donovan, I’m 43, and I live in Dorchester. I’ve been smoke-free for just over two years now, and I got there by stepping down through nicotine gum and then lozenges until my body finally let go. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t fast. But it worked.

How It Started

I grew up in Southie. My old man smoked Pall Malls. My mom smoked Virginia Slims. My uncle Paulie smoked whatever fell off the truck. Smoking was just what people did. I had my first full cigarette at 13, stolen from my mom’s purse while she was watching Jeopardy. By the time I was 15, I was buying my own packs with a fake ID at the corner store on Broadway.

Through high school I smoked maybe half a pack a day. By the time I was working construction at 20, it was a full pack. Marlboro Reds for years, then I switched to Newport Menthols in my late twenties because a girl I was dating smoked them and I got hooked on the menthol. Eventually settled on Camel Crush because I liked having the option. Squeeze the filter, get the menthol. Don’t squeeze it, regular. Best of both worlds, worst of all possible habits.

At my peak I was going through a pack and a half a day. That’s 30 cigarettes. One every 30 to 40 minutes during waking hours. I’d wake up at 5:30 AM and smoke on the back steps before my coffee was even done brewing. Last cigarette at 11 PM, sometimes midnight. I smoked in the rain, in the snow, in 95-degree heat. I smoked through bronchitis twice.

Trying and Failing

My first real quit attempt was at 28. My doctor told me my lung function was declining and I should “really think about quitting.” I said sure, went cold turkey, lasted four days. The headaches were unbelievable. Like someone had my skull in a vise. I couldn’t work. I was on a crew doing a renovation in Cambridge and I almost took a guy’s head off for asking me to hand him a hammer. I bought a pack on the way home from work on day four and smoked five cigarettes in my truck before I even drove out of the CVS parking lot.

I tried cold turkey two more times after that. Never made it past a week. Then I tried the patch in 2015. NicoDerm CQ, the whole 10-week program. It helped with the physical withdrawal but I missed the hand-to-mouth thing so much. I started eating constantly. Gained fifteen pounds in three weeks. My girlfriend at the time said I was impossible to be around because I was always chewing on something or fidgeting. I went back to smoking after about five weeks on the patch.

I tried Wellbutrin in 2018. My doctor prescribed it as a quit-smoking aid. It killed my appetite and made me feel foggy, like I was thinking through cotton. I lasted on it for about two months, smoked the entire time, and eventually stopped taking it because I didn’t feel like myself.

Four serious attempts in twenty years. I was running out of methods and running out of hope.

The Step-Down Plan

In the fall of 2023, I was sitting in the waiting room at my dentist’s office in Quincy. I was there because my gums were receding, which my dentist bluntly told me was because of smoking. While I waited, I picked up some health magazine and read an article about step-down nicotine replacement. The idea was simple: instead of going from cigarettes to nothing, you go from cigarettes to high-dose nicotine gum, then lower-dose gum, then lozenges, then nothing. You separate the nicotine from the cigarettes first, then you wean off the nicotine.

Something about that approach made sense to my brain. Every other time I’d tried to quit, I was fighting the cigarette habit and the nicotine addiction at the same time. This way, I could tackle them one at a time.

I started on October 15th, 2023. I bought a box of Nicorette 4mg gum, the cinnamon flavor, because the original flavor tastes like chewing on a battery. The plan was to replace cigarettes with gum for the first month.

Month One: Gum

The first week with the gum was rough, but not as rough as cold turkey. The gum gave me enough nicotine to keep the worst withdrawal at bay, but I still missed the act of smoking. I missed stepping outside. I missed the lighter in my hand. I missed the first drag of the morning.

I chewed through about 15 pieces of gum a day at first. You’re supposed to do the “chew and park” thing where you chew it a few times, then park it between your cheek and gum to let the nicotine absorb. I was terrible at this. I’d just chew it like regular gum and get hiccups from swallowing the nicotine. My stomach was upset for the first week until I got the technique down.

The hardest part of month one was socializing. I work in construction, and smoke breaks are a social thing. Standing around with a piece of gum while your buddies are lighting up feels pathetic, honestly. My foreman, Eddie, kept offering me cigarettes as a joke. I wanted to deck him. But I also had a few guys on the crew who’d quit before, and they’d nod at me like they understood. That silent acknowledgment helped more than they probably know.

I had one slip in the second week. We were at a bar in Southie watching the Bruins, and I bummed a cigarette off a stranger after the second period. I smoked it in the alley out back and immediately felt guilty and slightly nauseous. The gum had already started changing my tolerance. That cigarette didn’t even taste good. It tasted like what it was: burning chemicals.

Month Two: Lower Dose Gum

In November I switched from the 4mg gum to the 2mg gum. This was a noticeable drop. For the first few days I was chewing twice as many pieces to compensate. I had to discipline myself to stick to 12 to 15 pieces a day. The cravings were more frequent but less intense. Instead of a screaming need for nicotine, it was more of a persistent nudge. Annoying, but manageable.

I started keeping a tally on my phone of how many pieces I chewed each day. Seeing the numbers helped me gradually bring it down. By the end of November I was at about 10 pieces a day.

The Thanksgiving test was real. My family is big, loud, and stressful. My brother Danny still smokes and he was out on my mom’s porch every twenty minutes. I stayed inside, chewed my gum, and watched football. My mom, who’d quit smoking herself fifteen years ago, kept squeezing my shoulder every time she walked past. She knew what I was going through.

Months Three and Four: Lozenges

In December I made the switch from gum to Nicorette mini lozenges, 2mg. This was the next step down. The lozenges dissolve slowly and give you a steadier, lower dose of nicotine than the gum. They also solved the jaw soreness problem. After two months of aggressive gum chewing, my jaw was killing me.

The lozenges were easier to use discreetly. I could pop one in my mouth at work without anyone noticing. I used about 8 a day through December, then started cutting down in January 2024. By mid-January I was at 5 a day. By February I was at 2 or 3.

The physical cravings at this point were almost gone. What remained was the habit. The routine. I’d finish a meal and my brain would say “time for a cigarette.” I’d get in my truck and my brain would say “time for a cigarette.” I’d get stressed about something and my brain would say “time for a cigarette.” I had to actively replace those moments with something else. After meals, I’d brush my teeth. In the truck, I’d call my mom or put on a podcast. When stressed, I’d take a walk around the block.

Going to Zero

On March 1st, 2024, I used my last lozenge. I’d been stepping down for about four and a half months. Going from 2 lozenges a day to zero was surprisingly anticlimactic. I expected some kind of wall of withdrawal, but by that point my body was running on such a tiny amount of nicotine that the drop to zero was barely noticeable.

I had a few rough days that first week. Some irritability, trouble sleeping, a general restless feeling in my chest. But nothing like the crushing withdrawal of cold turkey. My body had been slowly adjusting for months. The landing was soft.

The hardest moment of the whole process actually came about a month after I was completely nicotine-free. I was going through a breakup, feeling sorry for myself, and I walked into a 7-Eleven with every intention of buying a pack. I stood in front of the counter, looked at the Camel Crush display behind the glass, and I could feel the pack in my hand already. I could taste the first drag.

The cashier said “What can I get you?” and I stood there for what felt like five minutes but was probably ten seconds. I said “Just a coffee.” Walked out. Sat in my truck and drank it. My hands were shaking. But I didn’t smoke.

Life After

It’s been two years now. The cravings are mostly gone. Once in a while I’ll catch a whiff of cigarette smoke on the street and something in my chest tightens, just for a second. Then it passes.

I can breathe. I mean really breathe. Deep, full breaths that fill my whole chest. I didn’t realize how shallow my breathing had become until it came back. I went for a run last spring for the first time in probably fifteen years. I only made it about a mile before I had to stop, but I wasn’t coughing. That was a win.

My teeth are whiter. My clothes don’t stink. I can actually taste food again. My dentist says my gums are stabilizing. I’ve saved roughly $8,000 in two years. I used some of it to take my mom to dinner at a nice place in the North End. She cried.

I still work construction. Guys still smoke around me. It doesn’t bother me anymore. Eddie, the foreman who used to joke about offering me cigarettes, actually asked me about the gum and lozenge thing last month. He’s thinking about trying it. I told him I’d help.

To the Person Still Smoking

If cold turkey hasn’t worked for you, it doesn’t mean you can’t quit. It means cold turkey isn’t your method. There’s no shame in using nicotine replacement. There’s no shame in stepping down gradually instead of stopping all at once. Some people can rip the bandage off. I’m not one of those people. I needed to peel it back slowly, and that’s fine.

The step-down approach worked for me because it let me fight one battle at a time. First I broke the cigarette habit. Then I broke the nicotine addiction. Trying to do both simultaneously is what tripped me up for twenty years.

You don’t have to be tough about this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You just have to find the method that works for your brain and your body. Try things. If they don’t work, try something else. I failed four times before I found my way.

You are not alone. There are people around you right now who’ve been where you are, who understand the grip this thing has on you, and who found their way out. I’m one of them. You can be too.