Why hello there!

[JB65]

Fucking amazing, my mind has gone through all those same things! I'll bet there are tons of others as well. Big tobacco knows exactly what they are doing. Unreal.

Congrats on your quit invader, and thanks for your support here to all the other quitters.

[invader]

10/14/2015

When I first quit, I, like all of you, had some VERY bizarre thoughts. My nicotine addiction tried telling me many lies. At the time, I realized the absurdity of them and decided to record these thoughts with the hopes of being able to look back at them and be entertained or to learn something. So, for your amusement, here are the contents of a text file I made starting on 3/15/2015 showing my ridiculous fog-addled rationalizations, with my commentary today in parenthesis. In other words, today's post features me talking to my addict mind like a psychopath.

"No one on Kill The Can is actually quit. I bet 90% of them are using dip and pretending to be quit." (Really, asshole? How conceited of you to think that the entirety of an online community got together and determined they would throw an elaborate ruse together just to screw with you.)

"You've made it 48 hours without dip. That's longer than ever. You know you can do this now. You can dip, knowing you can get back here easily." (So because I proved I could make it two days, I should go back to day 0? Good God.)

"Dip isn't the problem. You can just brush your teeth more and keep dipping." (Oh? And will I be able to brush the cancer away, too?)

"Okay, fine, your mouth is messed up from dip. So just start smoking. You can get away with it, your lungs are fine." (Oh yeah, because that isn't disrespectful to the memory of my grandparents who died of lung cancer, or to my mother who suffers from COPD, right? And smoking doesn't do wonders for the mouth either. Let's not.)

"Just keep a can of Smokey Mountain and put real dip in it. Everyone will think you're quit." (Yeah, except the most important person. Me. I don't think the cancer cells can be tricked like that, either.)

"You could be hit by lightning tomorrow and die. Might as well dip." (Ah, an old classic uttered by many an addict. True, there's a next to nothing chance that could happen. But what if it doesn't? What if I live to be 60, die prematurely from dip, and could have lived to be 100? I don't control where lightning strikes. I do control if tobacco goes in my mouth or not, though.)

"Just dip. You've got to die from something." (Similar to the last one. Yes, it's true. I have to die from something. But why pick the awful death cancer brings? I'm going to do my best to die from old age.)

"You didn't plan your quit out, you just did it. That's wrong. Start dipping again, plan to quit the right way, THEN quit." (Guys, I can't explain this other than this must have been something I actually thought, as I documented it. I just...the logic train derailed in spectacular fashion.)

"Dipping isn't THAT expensive. Really, what are you going to buy with $140 more a month, anyway?" (What the hell? What am I going to buy? How about literally anything BUT dip? Computer parts, board games, bike parts, save for a vacation, stock...? You know, stuff that WON'T kill me? I can't believe I actually couldn't think of anything else to buy at the time.)


Well, there you have it, folks! Hopefully you guys found that entertaining, enlightening, or maybe even you spotted a few you told yourself. This is not every single crave thought I had, but the ones that stood out to me as worth writing down. Some of them I wrote down because I immediately saw how absurd they were. Others I wrote down because at the time, they seemed to be rational but something told me not to act on them, and that one day I'd understand why they were wrong. I do understand very clearly now. And funny as it is to read some of these, it's also petrifying to know THAT is what nicotine does to a person's mind.

[lwildma2]

Awesome background.

Proud to quit with you today.

Thank you!

And now you know the rest of the story!

I miss Paul Harvey. Used to listen to him all the time riding in the farm truck with grandpa on the way back to the house for lunch.

Read your HOF, intro, and other posts. It keeps amazing me the knowledge base around here. My eyed keep being opened and fuels the Quit.

Tomorrow at 8am CDST, I will be 30 whole days nic free. I know I wouldn't have made it without this brotherhood.

I thank the good Lord that I found this site and that other vets have built it up to what it is today.

I am proud to quit with all of you today.

[KingNothing]

This is really good stuff Invader. I'm glad you shared this because while I was never on a pro-dipping site, I had the same feelings as you did. I felt "cooler" when I dipped with friends, and anybody that didn't accept a pinch was something of a pussy.

It's amazing how quickly your mindset can change when you are truly committed to changing and becoming that better person. The shame and embarrassment that came with dipping never superseded that alone time with our mistress. We selfishly put this ridiculous addiction ahead of family, friends, and life in general.

I thank God every day that I found the courage to do something about it before all I had left was cancer and regrets.

Thanks for sharing this story, it has given me a sense of introspection today that has fueled my quit. Keep it up!

[invader]

Awesome background.

Proud to quit with you today.

Thank you!

And now you know the rest of the story!

[lwildma2]

Awesome background.

Proud to quit with you today.

[Raider]

Good stuff my friend. Being quit with people like you sure makes the journey more exciting. Keep up the great work

[invader]

10/8/2015

"Where does the name Invader come from, anyway?"

A lot of people have asked me about my user name, and I guess there is an actual story to it. Since that story is dip related, I decided I'd just answer it here. I meant to bring this up in my HoF speech, but I figured the speech was already long-winded enough at it was. (I'm going to try to post something here a few times a week, by the way.)

So, here's the story. Back in my early dipping days, dipping was more than an addiction to me. It was my hobby. Truly, it was. I had this idiotic notion that I wanted to be a connoisseur of dip, or that people who dip must have some sort of bond. So, being that I had the internet, I searched out communities that dealt in smokeless tobacco. And being that this is the internet, and the internet has a community for ANYTHING, I found what I wanted. I was about 18 at the time. I'm 31 now. So this was a loooong time ago.

I joined a forum called...Spike's Something-Or-Other. I forget the exact name. Spike's Smokeless...something, something. It's gone now. To help you understand what this site was, picture KTC...then reverse it. That site was literally the polar opposite of KTC. They didn't review fake dip like Chewie does, they reviewed the latest Skoal flavor. They didn't talk about how nice it is to go fishing without dip, they talked about what dip went best with fishing. No one took pride in quitting dip, they took pride in how big their empty can collections were. I remember there WAS a "quitting" sub forum. Some poor person would show up, ask about a spot on their lip, and the "helpful" users over at Spike's would assure him it wasn't cancer and it was okay to dip. 'facepalm''

I was eventually made a moderator of the site, and I defended that place fiercely. You know how we treat cavers around here? That's how I treated anyone who came to the site preaching a message of quit - only with far less understanding and more anger. To me and the other nitwits, anyone even talking about quitting was just some jerkoff who wanted to interject their opinion in other people's lives. Addiction makes people blind and deaf to reason, and it was no different for me. By the way, I'm not romanticizing nicotine or my time spent on that site. In fact, I'm quite ashamed by it and sincerely hope I didn't damage anyone's lives by recommending dip to them.

Take a guess what name I called any quitter who came to our beloved dip site? "Invader."

Well, fast forward 13 years, and now the tables have turned. It's ME who is invading KTC. Except...I don't feel like much of an invader around here. I feel welcome. At home. Supported. Cared for. No one here has ever cussed me out for wanting to quit nicotine. But still, I chose this user name to remind me what an insufferable, immature prick I was.

I have a new hobby now. Staying quit.

[lwildma2]

10/6/2015

I was at the gas station today buying some Surge (THEY BROUGHT IT BACK!) when I couldn't help but overhear the guy two places in front of me. "Yeah, uh, I need a can of Copenhagen Fine Cut." The temptation to walk over and kick him squarely in the ass was present, especially given the fact he posed his request as "I NEED a can..." Yeah, buddy, you "need" that shit like I need a mousetrap closing on my scrotum. But, I kept my mouth shut and my foot to myself.

Anyway, the cute girl working the cash register was of course baffled by the guy's request, and spent the next two minutes trying to find the poison, which in his words, he "needed" to have. I mean she was frantically trying to find it for him. "This one? No? Oh, to the left? Too far? Crap, sorry. This one?" And it got me thinking how I used to have to steer people who knew nothing about dip to the correct can. I would always say to my friends "Hmph, If I wanted ANY type of Marlboros, I'll bet they'd know exactly where to find that." As if I was somehow classier and less mainstream than people who smoke.

Back to the gas station. At this point, the rest of the line was getting annoyed. The clicking of tongues and frustrated sighs and huffs were becoming audible. Hell, I think I actually HEARD one person's eyes roll. The nicotine addict turned and nodded at the rest of us and said "I know, this is ridiculous." Finally, the girl found the guy's can of shitmouth for him. He offered her a dirty look, a shake of his head, and more or less slammed his $5 and change onto the counter, storming off angrily before she could even hand him his receipt.

Here's what the guy who stormed off didn't understand. No one was annoyed at the pretty girl behind the counter trying to find his Cope. They were annoyed at HIM. Once he left, the lady directly in front of me said "He sure was particular about what sort of worm dirt he wanted," which garnered a laugh from the rest of the line. Someone else chimed in with "I needs me muh chaw, hurry 'er up!" in the most backwoods, hillbilly, uneducated, shit-for-brains tone I had ever heard, causing more snickers and laughs from the line.

I chuckled too, albeit very uneasily, because part of me was ashamed at the fact that was EXACTLY who I was not all that long ago. The asshole holding up the line, then becoming annoyed when a non-addict didn't know exactly where my drug of choice was. All I could manage to tell the girl once it was my turn to pay for my items was "Good on you for not knowing what that stuff even looks like." Good grief. For all the fog quitting caused, it also has brought with it a level of clarity.

New reason to stay quit: I don't want to be the idiot in the gas station line again.

It pains me to say it but I've been at the front of that line trying to direct a clerk so many times before. I wanted to leap over the counter to get the correct can of shit in my hand. I used to sort of joke with the clerk about how silly it is that they make so many different kinds as I would be pointing my finger at the Copenhagen long cut (not the snuff or the straight or the wintergreen or the......).

This is another thing that I don't miss and another good reason to stay quit.

I feel the same stranger. A couple of the gas stations I hit up asked me to walk around the counter and get it myself. I got into the habit of doing it. Gotta love small town USA.

I hated buying in bigger towns were the clerks and tobacco were locked behind glass. Took to long to point them in the right direction.

I am glad those days are over. Now looking forward to throwing out the SM as well.

[Stranger999]

10/6/2015

I was at the gas station today buying some Surge (THEY BROUGHT IT BACK!) when I couldn't help but overhear the guy two places in front of me. "Yeah, uh, I need a can of Copenhagen Fine Cut." The temptation to walk over and kick him squarely in the ass was present, especially given the fact he posed his request as "I NEED a can..." Yeah, buddy, you "need" that shit like I need a mousetrap closing on my scrotum. But, I kept my mouth shut and my foot to myself.

Anyway, the cute girl working the cash register was of course baffled by the guy's request, and spent the next two minutes trying to find the poison, which in his words, he "needed" to have. I mean she was frantically trying to find it for him. "This one? No? Oh, to the left? Too far? Crap, sorry. This one?" And it got me thinking how I used to have to steer people who knew nothing about dip to the correct can. I would always say to my friends "Hmph, If I wanted ANY type of Marlboros, I'll bet they'd know exactly where to find that." As if I was somehow classier and less mainstream than people who smoke.

Back to the gas station. At this point, the rest of the line was getting annoyed. The clicking of tongues and frustrated sighs and huffs were becoming audible. Hell, I think I actually HEARD one person's eyes roll. The nicotine addict turned and nodded at the rest of us and said "I know, this is ridiculous." Finally, the girl found the guy's can of shitmouth for him. He offered her a dirty look, a shake of his head, and more or less slammed his $5 and change onto the counter, storming off angrily before she could even hand him his receipt.

Here's what the guy who stormed off didn't understand. No one was annoyed at the pretty girl behind the counter trying to find his Cope. They were annoyed at HIM. Once he left, the lady directly in front of me said "He sure was particular about what sort of worm dirt he wanted," which garnered a laugh from the rest of the line. Someone else chimed in with "I needs me muh chaw, hurry 'er up!" in the most backwoods, hillbilly, uneducated, shit-for-brains tone I had ever heard, causing more snickers and laughs from the line.

I chuckled too, albeit very uneasily, because part of me was ashamed at the fact that was EXACTLY who I was not all that long ago. The asshole holding up the line, then becoming annoyed when a non-addict didn't know exactly where my drug of choice was. All I could manage to tell the girl once it was my turn to pay for my items was "Good on you for not knowing what that stuff even looks like." Good grief. For all the fog quitting caused, it also has brought with it a level of clarity.

New reason to stay quit: I don't want to be the idiot in the gas station line again.

It pains me to say it but I've been at the front of that line trying to direct a clerk so many times before. I wanted to leap over the counter to get the correct can of shit in my hand. I used to sort of joke with the clerk about how silly it is that they make so many different kinds as I would be pointing my finger at the Copenhagen long cut (not the snuff or the straight or the wintergreen or the......).

This is another thing that I don't miss and another good reason to stay quit.

[invader]

10/6/2015

I was at the gas station today buying some Surge (THEY BROUGHT IT BACK!) when I couldn't help but overhear the guy two places in front of me. "Yeah, uh, I need a can of Copenhagen Fine Cut." The temptation to walk over and kick him squarely in the ass was present, especially given the fact he posed his request as "I NEED a can..." Yeah, buddy, you "need" that shit like I need a mousetrap closing on my scrotum. But, I kept my mouth shut and my foot to myself.

Anyway, the cute girl working the cash register was of course baffled by the guy's request, and spent the next two minutes trying to find the poison, which in his words, he "needed" to have. I mean she was frantically trying to find it for him. "This one? No? Oh, to the left? Too far? Crap, sorry. This one?" And it got me thinking how I used to have to steer people who knew nothing about dip to the correct can. I would always say to my friends "Hmph, If I wanted ANY type of Marlboros, I'll bet they'd know exactly where to find that." As if I was somehow classier and less mainstream than people who smoke.

Back to the gas station. At this point, the rest of the line was getting annoyed. The clicking of tongues and frustrated sighs and huffs were becoming audible. Hell, I think I actually HEARD one person's eyes roll. The nicotine addict turned and nodded at the rest of us and said "I know, this is ridiculous." Finally, the girl found the guy's can of shitmouth for him. He offered her a dirty look, a shake of his head, and more or less slammed his $5 and change onto the counter, storming off angrily before she could even hand him his receipt.

Here's what the guy who stormed off didn't understand. No one was annoyed at the pretty girl behind the counter trying to find his Cope. They were annoyed at HIM. Once he left, the lady directly in front of me said "He sure was particular about what sort of worm dirt he wanted," which garnered a laugh from the rest of the line. Someone else chimed in with "I needs me muh chaw, hurry 'er up!" in the most backwoods, hillbilly, uneducated, shit-for-brains tone I had ever heard, causing more snickers and laughs from the line.

I chuckled too, albeit very uneasily, because part of me was ashamed at the fact that was EXACTLY who I was not all that long ago. The asshole holding up the line, then becoming annoyed when a non-addict didn't know exactly where my drug of choice was. All I could manage to tell the girl once it was my turn to pay for my items was "Good on you for not knowing what that stuff even looks like." Good grief. For all the fog quitting caused, it also has brought with it a level of clarity.

New reason to stay quit: I don't want to be the idiot in the gas station line again.

Oh my friend, what has happened to you is what most of us dreamed of, it's the true meaning of quit! Without a doubt in your mind your truly quit. You understand you will always be an addict but you can and you will defeat,walk away, hold the bitch down by her throat or whatever it takes to keep that shit out of your mouth! I must admit it took somewhere around 260 days to start feeling that! Quit on and congratulations! The freedom is unbelievable! I thank ktc but also God everyday that I I'm rid of the poison that has robbed me of so much of my youth!

Thank you for the encouragement, pab! I'll walk this path with you any day!

[pab1964]

10/6/2015

I was at the gas station today buying some Surge (THEY BROUGHT IT BACK!) when I couldn't help but overhear the guy two places in front of me. "Yeah, uh, I need a can of Copenhagen Fine Cut." The temptation to walk over and kick him squarely in the ass was present, especially given the fact he posed his request as "I NEED a can..." Yeah, buddy, you "need" that shit like I need a mousetrap closing on my scrotum. But, I kept my mouth shut and my foot to myself.

Anyway, the cute girl working the cash register was of course baffled by the guy's request, and spent the next two minutes trying to find the poison, which in his words, he "needed" to have. I mean she was frantically trying to find it for him. "This one? No? Oh, to the left? Too far? Crap, sorry. This one?" And it got me thinking how I used to have to steer people who knew nothing about dip to the correct can. I would always say to my friends "Hmph, If I wanted ANY type of Marlboros, I'll bet they'd know exactly where to find that." As if I was somehow classier and less mainstream than people who smoke.

Back to the gas station. At this point, the rest of the line was getting annoyed. The clicking of tongues and frustrated sighs and huffs were becoming audible. Hell, I think I actually HEARD one person's eyes roll. The nicotine addict turned and nodded at the rest of us and said "I know, this is ridiculous." Finally, the girl found the guy's can of shitmouth for him. He offered her a dirty look, a shake of his head, and more or less slammed his $5 and change onto the counter, storming off angrily before she could even hand him his receipt.

Here's what the guy who stormed off didn't understand. No one was annoyed at the pretty girl behind the counter trying to find his Cope. They were annoyed at HIM. Once he left, the lady directly in front of me said "He sure was particular about what sort of worm dirt he wanted," which garnered a laugh from the rest of the line. Someone else chimed in with "I needs me muh chaw, hurry 'er up!" in the most backwoods, hillbilly, uneducated, shit-for-brains tone I had ever heard, causing more snickers and laughs from the line.

I chuckled too, albeit very uneasily, because part of me was ashamed at the fact that was EXACTLY who I was not all that long ago. The asshole holding up the line, then becoming annoyed when a non-addict didn't know exactly where my drug of choice was. All I could manage to tell the girl once it was my turn to pay for my items was "Good on you for not knowing what that stuff even looks like." Good grief. For all the fog quitting caused, it also has brought with it a level of clarity.

New reason to stay quit: I don't want to be the idiot in the gas station line again.

Oh my friend, what has happened to you is what most of us dreamed of, it's the true meaning of quit! Without a doubt in your mind your truly quit. You understand you will always be an addict but you can and you will defeat,walk away, hold the bitch down by her throat or whatever it takes to keep that shit out of your mouth! I must admit it took somewhere around 260 days to start feeling that! Quit on and congratulations! The freedom is unbelievable! I thank ktc but also God everyday that I I'm rid of the poison that has robbed me of so much of my youth!

[invader]

10/6/2015

I was at the gas station today buying some Surge (THEY BROUGHT IT BACK!) when I couldn't help but overhear the guy two places in front of me. "Yeah, uh, I need a can of Copenhagen Fine Cut." The temptation to walk over and kick him squarely in the ass was present, especially given the fact he posed his request as "I NEED a can..." Yeah, buddy, you "need" that shit like I need a mousetrap closing on my scrotum. But, I kept my mouth shut and my foot to myself.

Anyway, the cute girl working the cash register was of course baffled by the guy's request, and spent the next two minutes trying to find the poison, which in his words, he "needed" to have. I mean she was frantically trying to find it for him. "This one? No? Oh, to the left? Too far? Crap, sorry. This one?" And it got me thinking how I used to have to steer people who knew nothing about dip to the correct can. I would always say to my friends "Hmph, If I wanted ANY type of Marlboros, I'll bet they'd know exactly where to find that." As if I was somehow classier and less mainstream than people who smoke.

Back to the gas station. At this point, the rest of the line was getting annoyed. The clicking of tongues and frustrated sighs and huffs were becoming audible. Hell, I think I actually HEARD one person's eyes roll. The nicotine addict turned and nodded at the rest of us and said "I know, this is ridiculous." Finally, the girl found the guy's can of shitmouth for him. He offered her a dirty look, a shake of his head, and more or less slammed his $5 and change onto the counter, storming off angrily before she could even hand him his receipt.

Here's what the guy who stormed off didn't understand. No one was annoyed at the pretty girl behind the counter trying to find his Cope. They were annoyed at HIM. Once he left, the lady directly in front of me said "He sure was particular about what sort of worm dirt he wanted," which garnered a laugh from the rest of the line. Someone else chimed in with "I needs me muh chaw, hurry 'er up!" in the most backwoods, hillbilly, uneducated, shit-for-brains tone I had ever heard, causing more snickers and laughs from the line.

I chuckled too, albeit very uneasily, because part of me was ashamed at the fact that was EXACTLY who I was not all that long ago. The asshole holding up the line, then becoming annoyed when a non-addict didn't know exactly where my drug of choice was. All I could manage to tell the girl once it was my turn to pay for my items was "Good on you for not knowing what that stuff even looks like." Good grief. For all the fog quitting caused, it also has brought with it a level of clarity.

New reason to stay quit: I don't want to be the idiot in the gas station line again.

[KingNothing]

Hi! Let me give this using-your-intro-as-a-quit-journal thing a shot.

So, for seemingly no apparent reason, at 3:30 AM tonight I decided to flush the two cans of Smokey Mountain Herbal Snuff I had left. I quit using it at about day 50, transitioning to sugarfree gum instead, but I kept the two cans of fake in my dresser as a backup of sorts in case the mother of all craves hit. But here's the thing: I have had very strong craves sporadically since I stopped using even fake, and not once has my mind gone to "I need my Smokey Mountain RIGHT NOW." Maybe that's what happened. Maybe the logical part of my mind realized there's no use in keeping something around I don't use. Maybe, in an odd way, keeping the fake was working to my detriment just by being there - a connection of sorts to a person I no longer am. A means to mimic a thing I no longer partake in, and in fact, hate.

Now, this isn't a "I'm above using fake" thing, or a "the people using fake are wrong" thing or even a "fake dip is bad" thing. On the contrary, I was NOT above using fake dip, and I actively recommend it to ANYONE who has quit dipping but still misses the ritual of spitting, packing a can, or whatever else. What I'm saying is that I feel I've personally turned a corner. I no longer desire the ritual of spitting brown goo into a bottle, even if said goo is only corn silk and food dye. I can't explain it, but I suddenly felt a strong resentment towards my cans of fake not for what they were, but what they reminded me of. I didn't even want to look at the cans themselves, so I also threw a half-full garbage bag with the empty cans into my apartment's dumpster. And when I was handling the cans, I held them with my thumb and forefinger, arm outstretched - the same way someone would hold a leaking bag of fresh dog shit. No lie. I am realizing that keeping those cans of fake around was causing me stress and making an already difficult thing much harder. I don't need reminded of dip every time I open that drawer. In fact, I don't want anything that even LOOKS like a can of the real shit in my home.

I can't explain what compelled me to do this tonight/this morning, but I feel a truer, greater sense of freedom now. I feel liberated. Not complacent. Not cured. Not immune to craves. And make no mistake, this changes nothing with regards to the formula to stay quit or my routine. I will still be here every day making an ass of myself on the boards and in chat, and posting my daily promise. My guard has not lowered in the slightest. But I feel I have definitely distanced myself even further from tobacco in a tangible, meaningful way. Perhaps this is the "closing the door" moment people on the site talk about. Or, perhaps it was how the process of using fake dip is supposed to play itself out. After all, most companies who make the stuff tell you that the day comes when you totally lose interest in it. Whatever it is, it feels fucking good, and I credit you, the good people of KTC, with helping me to achieve it.

- Invader

(Too Long, Didn't Read version: lol i threw stuff away and feel good now).

Great shot...... On the journal thing!
Respecting this quit EDD ODAAT.
Rawls 323

Congrats Invader, I can smell the quit from here!

[Rawls]

Hi! Let me give this using-your-intro-as-a-quit-journal thing a shot.

So, for seemingly no apparent reason, at 3:30 AM tonight I decided to flush the two cans of Smokey Mountain Herbal Snuff I had left. I quit using it at about day 50, transitioning to sugarfree gum instead, but I kept the two cans of fake in my dresser as a backup of sorts in case the mother of all craves hit. But here's the thing: I have had very strong craves sporadically since I stopped using even fake, and not once has my mind gone to "I need my Smokey Mountain RIGHT NOW." Maybe that's what happened. Maybe the logical part of my mind realized there's no use in keeping something around I don't use. Maybe, in an odd way, keeping the fake was working to my detriment just by being there - a connection of sorts to a person I no longer am. A means to mimic a thing I no longer partake in, and in fact, hate.

Now, this isn't a "I'm above using fake" thing, or a "the people using fake are wrong" thing or even a "fake dip is bad" thing. On the contrary, I was NOT above using fake dip, and I actively recommend it to ANYONE who has quit dipping but still misses the ritual of spitting, packing a can, or whatever else. What I'm saying is that I feel I've personally turned a corner. I no longer desire the ritual of spitting brown goo into a bottle, even if said goo is only corn silk and food dye. I can't explain it, but I suddenly felt a strong resentment towards my cans of fake not for what they were, but what they reminded me of. I didn't even want to look at the cans themselves, so I also threw a half-full garbage bag with the empty cans into my apartment's dumpster. And when I was handling the cans, I held them with my thumb and forefinger, arm outstretched - the same way someone would hold a leaking bag of fresh dog shit. No lie. I am realizing that keeping those cans of fake around was causing me stress and making an already difficult thing much harder. I don't need reminded of dip every time I open that drawer. In fact, I don't want anything that even LOOKS like a can of the real shit in my home.

I can't explain what compelled me to do this tonight/this morning, but I feel a truer, greater sense of freedom now. I feel liberated. Not complacent. Not cured. Not immune to craves. And make no mistake, this changes nothing with regards to the formula to stay quit or my routine. I will still be here every day making an ass of myself on the boards and in chat, and posting my daily promise. My guard has not lowered in the slightest. But I feel I have definitely distanced myself even further from tobacco in a tangible, meaningful way. Perhaps this is the "closing the door" moment people on the site talk about. Or, perhaps it was how the process of using fake dip is supposed to play itself out. After all, most companies who make the stuff tell you that the day comes when you totally lose interest in it. Whatever it is, it feels fucking good, and I credit you, the good people of KTC, with helping me to achieve it.

- Invader

(Too Long, Didn't Read version: lol i threw stuff away and feel good now).

Great shot...... On the journal thing!
Respecting this quit EDD ODAAT.
Rawls 323