I started dipping probably 30 years ago in junior high with the help of a high school friend who would share his dip and his stories about women, fun, etc. We had to sneak it in. So we snuck to the roof of the community center.
We were doing something cool and it was something we weren't supposed to do. hee hee.
That was when the slab of the prison was laid.
I graduated to being able to buy it when I was 14 at certain C-stores, which became cool hangouts. Cool kids dipped. Chicks appreciated the bad boys because we didn't play by the rules. We'd take girls to that same roof to make out.
The walls of my prison started going up.
I was forced to quit when I couldn't find a store to sell it to me and then I moved to Texas. Found new neighbor who dipped. And shared. Bonded with new neighbor over our habit. Bonded with other people over same. Found ways to feel cool again.
The roof went up.
Went to college, met cool guys who dipped. We shared that. Sad but true. That was plenty to keep me Caved.
The prison beds got installed. I got comfortable.
Quit after a summer in Germany where I couldn't find it. Hated it. Got some Mint Chew delivered to Germany. Hated it worse but coped (no pun intended). Got back to college. Stayed quit for 3 days. Cave.
Broke out of prison. Got caught by the hound dogs and dragged back in. Three hots and a Copenhagen cot? Not so bad.
Quit again 2 years later. 5 days and Cave. Started realizing this prison, like any prison, sucks.
Got back on the quit wagon with a half log of Smokey Mountain fake dip. Finished that log, quit for 3+ years.
Enjoyed life outside of bars.
Had a moment of depression. Said, "just one". That one led to 5 years of Cave.
Broke probation, got the book thrown at me.
Got back on fake chew. Found KTC.org. Couldn't figure out how to post roll. Lasted 3+ weeks.
Joined a prison gang.
My wife found KTC. She got behind me. Got on the site. Got a little freaked out by some of you freakshow goons. :) She endured. Saw the love, the help and mentioned it to me. I quit that night for the last time ever.
Got away with my second to last thing in life— a full pardon from the governor of nic hell.
I quit. I craved. I read. I was inspired. I got medieval on the Nic Bitch those first few days. I read more. I got numbers. I got more numbers. I chatted, helped, laughed. Fought craves with a fiercity that everyone here knows. I felt not alone.
I was out of prison. Now the only thing I need to get away with is NEVER going back. I'd love to say I'll never get cancer but that's impossible. What I CAN say is I'll never do anything to increase my chances of getting cancer, or leaving my wife, or my daughter, or letting anyone here down who has helped me with a kind word, a number, a roll post for me when I couldn't, a nice thought, a great story, a sad story, or even just a knowing, compassionate "hello".
I'm a nicotine addict. I'm a quitter. And everyday is the day that I quit.
