Random thoughts and things I'm just figuring out:
I was consumed with chewing tobacco, not just addicted, but completely consumed, it was constantly on my mind every day. I didn't realize how much of my life rotated around chewing until I quit and I've noticed all these other, nearly subconscious habits or actions and thoughts that were part of the chewing life. Its like every move I made was based on whether or not I could chew and spit.
Sunday I got on the bike and rode about 200 miles through the Texas hill country, just enjoying the perfect riding weather and the countryside. There was no stress, none, which you would have thought would be the way it always was, riding in the country on a perfect day. Before, on the same type day on the same country roads, I would always be nearly drowning in my spit before I got to the next stop sign or rest area, sometimes if there was no traffic I would stop in the road to spit, only to start building up my next mouthful and looking for the next stop to unload, and God forbid if it were windy. I've had to clean my bike of spit splatter more times than I want to remember. I've been riding for about 8 or 9 years and it is such a relaxing past time activity riding on country roads but I never experienced total riding bliss until Sunday.
Last night my wife had to run to our neighbor's house behind us to take care of her dog and cats while the lady is in the hospital. Always before when she left and if I knew she was going to be gone for a little while, I'd grab a chew. Then I'd be listening for the garage door so I could get rid of it before she got into the house. Anytime I was in the truck I had a chew, and the spit bottles were always there and I'd try and hide them when I got home in case she decided to take my truck to the store or something, and often I would make excuses about taking her car when we went somewhere because "I had to clean out my truck so she could get in" when it only had to do with the bags of chew and spit bottles I didn't want her to find. I usually had a bag hidden in the master bathroom somewhere so that I could grab a chew and spend time by myself while she wondered why it took me so long to come to bed. Of course she was almost always already asleep by the time I came out of the john. Doing yard work, chew, always trying to spit when I was hidden from a window view. Taking out the trash, quick chew. Vacations were a very difficult thing to plan and to pull off without my wife knowing I was chewing about half the time we were together. Sneaking into a store and buying tobacco or trying to sneak through the register with a bag while she was in the store was always tricky. I feel like such a worm for the things I did and the money I basically stole from her.
At work I've been caught with my mouth full of spit when my boss or someone else might walk in to start talking to me and either I'd have to swallow it or try and catch them looking the other way so I could grab my spit bottle and try and unload before they turned around, or even pick up my coffee cup and act like I was sipping coffee while I spit in the cup! And part of the planning for any public speaking or teaching classes has always been to grab a chew a few minutes before I go into the room so I have time to chew it down and spit before tucking it behind my lip and gum and hopefully not needing to spit while speaking. And if a bit of spit came up and I did have to swallow it, generally I would get the hiccups, really bad ones and would have to get some water down to break it up. At my desk I always had a spit bottle under the desk on top of the computer which stands on the floor and I would fill one up and have to put it in the trash, but would put it in something to hide it so the trash girl wouldn't get too grossed out, then I'd pull another water bottle from my drawer to start another spit bottle. I just looked in my desk drawer and there must be 50 empty water bottles in there. I just filled up the recycle bin with spit bottles in waiting.
And how many times have I opened a bran new bottle of water or soda, had it in my console in the truck next to the spit bottle and picked up and spit in the wrong one! Y'all know what I'm talking about.
I have been averaging about one bag of redman gold every one or two days for years and years (35 or so years!). I've paid between $8.59 and $10 a bag for years down here in Texas. That's $1567 a year on the conservative side and I'm sure it is much more than that when I consider all the times I'd buy one at a convenience store in a pinch, for 10+ dollars or chew more than one bag in a day working outside or hunting etc. Considering that I've usually bought a couple extra bags on Friday so I'd be stocked for the weekend that number is closer to the high side of $3100 in a year! How selfish and unfair is that to hide from my wife all these years? What kind of a person would do that. Makes me sick.
It is just blowing my mind to begin to grasp how consumed with this addiction I have been, and how much freedom I have now, and free time especially for my mind not having to plan my every move based on chew. I guess I just realized what an addiction is...and how selfish, disgusting and pathetic I have been.
If anyone is reading this and you're still on the fence, come on over and QUIT! Please take your life back.
