I found this site an hour ago and cannot believe how lucky I am to be able to write this to people who understand how I feel right now. This might be my one and only post so I'll try to make it a good one.
I'm a 30 year old logistics professional who has been ninja dipping at work, ALL DAY, for the last 3 years. Before that, I was a police officer, dipping a can a day, and before that, I was in the army, dipping a can a week. I started when I was 16, so I basically grew up on Skoal. I kept or lost girlfriends based on how well they tolerated my shitty habit (and maybe my shitty attitude), made late night trips to the gas station a million times, and have had my wife of two years lose her shit on me on Multiple occasions because of my broken promises. I know that is familiar to many of you!
I promised myself I would quit on my 27th birthday, then again on my 28th, and so on... I even drove us from North Carolina to Glacier National Park in Montana for my 30th birthday, in part to "get away from all the stress and finally kill this habit". Damned if I didn't stop for dip on the way. Last year, I packed 50 cans of dip in my suit case when I flew to Saudi Arabia on work for two months at a time. Of course I ran out, and resorted to grumpily smoking cigarettes outside in the 120 degree heat like a dumbass. This is when I began to realize just how crazy I am for having this addiction. it was so hot I sweated out the nicotine before it got past my lungs, but every day I was out on the wall like the drug friend I was.
My gums are starting to hurt, I can see that my mouth is becoming damaged (beginning to turn my cheeks and gums yellow). I'm frankly terrified of getting cancer. I am so god damned tired of being a slave to a stupid can. I've lied to my wife, my self, and my family about how "I'm done, starting today" a dozen times, and every single time, I know deep down that I'm a liar. I'm tired of being a liar.
I'm tired of broken promises to my wife and fights about a spitter or a nasty car, or good lord help me a used dip pouch on the coffee table. If you ever want to witness a thermonuclear explosion up close, leave a spent dip pouch where your wife can accidentally touch it. This is only slightly less dangerous than the supernova level of energy release when your wife mistakes your spitter for a miller light. I didn't think I was going to live long enough run away, much less to get cancer.
I'm tired of dealing with that shit, and being the cause of it. I'm tired of staying up late to get one more dip in before i go to bed. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling unmanned because I'm not in control anymore.
A can of Skoal has controlled me for over a decade. Let's be honest, If you've been a can a day dipper you know what I mean. I can be selfish, deceitful, defensive, and angry. That's the dip fucking with my mind every time it needs to be dipped or needs to be bought. I have no control, it runs the show and I am just a passenger in my own life. The can has dipped me out of half a Master's degree, or a car, or a down payment on a house. That can is going to cost me additional tens of thousands of dollars, untold pain and heartache, and eventually it's going to cut my face off or (only slightly better) kill me dead. Holy shit, I'm married to a can and I need a divorce right the hell now.
I'm done. I'm beyond done. I'm pissed off at the whole damned thing. It's 2am, I just tossed my fresh can, and I'm 30 minutes Free.