126 days ago, I experienced the moment that I had been waiting for to end my addiction to chewing tobacco. Using dip started as a wonderful social experience that I used to connect with my buddies. When the party began to wind-down, after most were drunk or had gone home, we would retreat to a nearby parking lot or a back yard. My buddies called it the dessert club to disguise from girls what we were actually doing. They'd always say I want dessert too, what are you getting? Where are you going? We'd come back with tales of cookie and cream, gelato and frozen deliciousness having never eaten a bite. We had a hand shake... I was 19, give me a break.
Beyond the "dessert club" I never thought about dip otherwise. Not in class, in my car, at my apt... so what was the big deal? At that point, I thought it was other peoples problem, cause they had addictive personalities. I justified it by saying, "I work out and eat healthy, what's it gonna hurt?"
After college, my career took me on lots of trips in the car across the country, by myself. Throwing in a dip on a long car ride helped suffer the sting of the hours on the road with nobody to talk to. So I justified a can per trip. It began to be something I enjoyed so much I pretty much put one in every time I got in the car. Nobody would mess with me or judge me for how nasty they thought it was because I was alone. This was the beginning of a serious addiction.
The next step began with weekends. "NOT during the work week," I thought to myself. I realized it does make my brain feel a bit foggy and also felt dehydrated when I wake up the morning after. I went through stages of severe paranoia where every little bump or tiny spec in my mouth would worry me I had cancer. I would check my mouth in the mirror every time I went in the restroom just to make sure... but I still didn't quit. Weekends morphed into most evenings without much resistance. That's it, I quit,,,. Never again, I'd say. Then the next weekend, as soon as my lip felt good as new, I'd start right back up.
I was flirting with the idea of quitting forever, when I fell upon killthecan.org. It was a community of people just like me. Trying to fight the good fight and give it up for their family, career and for themselves. I was encouraged to know I was not alone. All the guys I used to dip with were scattered across the country and had probably quit a long time ago. I only knew a couple people that actually dipped and they weren't trying to quit and would even get angry when I talked about giving it up... like I was trying to guilt trip them or something.
The part I haven't mentioned yet is that I'm a professional singer for the United States Air Force band in Washington, D.C. My livelihood depends on my throat and mouth and here I was playing Russian Roulette with not only my career, but my life. I had a breakdown night when I found a story on killthecan.org about a young 14 year old boy who drove his older brother to chemotherapy sessions and still found dip in the glove compartment. When he asked his older brother about it, he said. "It's all I have left, don't tell Mom." The young boy watched his brother(all state track star and quarterback) choke to death because the tumor in his throat got so big he couldn't breath anymore.
I imagined myself in a hospital bed, with my Mom at my side, gasping for my last breath as she looks down at me wondering, "Could I have done something differently?" When I had this vision, I began to pray. " God free me of the enslavement I feel to this can. I give it to you. It's in your hands now."
The issue for me was much deeper than being addicted to tobacco. It dulled the discomfort of my loneliness on the road, or perhaps the resentment I felt towards others or the anxiety of being a failure in my career. Upon asking for Gods help, I then began to focus on healing the deeper issues in my life. 126 days ago I made a commitment to my family, myself and Jesus that I would never put another pinch of that poison in my mouth. With Gods help... I won't.
