Quit or Die

[B-loMatt]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up.  I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

You are no doubt an addict! But damn it you an even bigger freakin bad ass mr Evil. I Erussell quit with you all damn day.

You win. She is a sore loser. FU Nic.

That's exactly what the dreams do to me. Wake up abruptly with heart pounding, soaking wet, systems on full tilt panic mode. Sucks..... bad. Don't have them very often, but I hope the never go away. They make me very aware of just how tricky our opponent is.

Rock on, Evil..... +1.

Good Job Evil!!

I just had my first couple of dip dreams last week. My first one was exactly like you describe yours: fading into it feeling happy first and slowly realizing that I was happy because I was dipping a huge fat mouth of nasty poison! At that point the shame and guilt hit me and I woke up knowing I was dreaming but swearing I had a poison turd in my lip... Really shook me, but wow I do not ever want to feel that for real and so it makes my quit stronger. Quit on.

[miles]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up.  I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

You are no doubt an addict! But damn it you an even bigger freakin bad ass mr Evil. I Erussell quit with you all damn day.

You win. She is a sore loser. FU Nic.

That's exactly what the dreams do to me. Wake up abruptly with heart pounding, soaking wet, systems on full tilt panic mode. Sucks..... bad. Don't have them very often, but I hope the never go away. They make me very aware of just how tricky our opponent is.

Rock on, Evil..... +1.

Good Job Evil!!

[Radman]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up.  I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

You are no doubt an addict! But damn it you an even bigger freakin bad ass mr Evil. I Erussell quit with you all damn day.

You win. She is a sore loser. FU Nic.

That's exactly what the dreams do to me. Wake up abruptly with heart pounding, soaking wet, systems on full tilt panic mode. Sucks..... bad. Don't have them very often, but I hope the never go away. They make me very aware of just how tricky our opponent is.

Rock on, Evil..... +1.

[Scowick65]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up.  I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

You are no doubt an addict! But damn it you an even bigger freakin bad ass mr Evil. I Erussell quit with you all damn day.

You win. She is a sore loser. FU Nic.

[Erussell]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up. I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

You are no doubt an addict! But damn it you an even bigger freakin bad ass mr Evil. I Erussell quit with you all damn day.

[Evil_Won]

Nicotine is a powerful drug. We all agree on that. Yet still, it amazes me the lengths (and timing) of her actions to lure me back into her lair. Yesterday was 300 consecutive days of being nic and dip free. If work didn't suck ass so bad I would have called it a pretty good day.

I had MY first dip dream last night, on night 300. I've had one or two smoking dreams (odd in that I never smoked). I had dreams where others were dipping, but me dipping was new territory. I don't remember the circumstances of the dream. Usually I remember dreams in excruciating color and detail, but not this one. I just know that I was happy dipping and slowly became aware of what I was doing. I got hot (like feverish), started to sweat, started to become aware of those around me looking at me with disgust, started to gag on the fattest lipper I ever stuffed into my face, felt and heard my heart pounding, then woke up. I was hot (feverish), sweating, heart pounding, but the wife as asleep and not staring.

I've made it to day 301 but now my tongue hurts like hell. Is this the Bitch using her Plan B, or is this my good friend Quit inflicting real physical pain on day 301 as a reminder that I can never go back. Just one is not an option. I stopped once for 28 days but listened to her and had just one for seven more years of daily dipping. I am an addict.

I posted roll today and of course that means I will remain nic and dip free for the next 24 hours. If I am fortunate enough to wake tomorrow, I will do the same thing again for day 302.

[Mike_Land]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

Perfectly said, and a great read....QLF today

ODAAT and NAFAR Men!!! 'bang head'

**bump**

this needs to be read by everyone.

G'damn evil that's a good read

Outstanding Evil! This needs to go on the words of wisdom page for sure.

[AppleJack]

You said that you didnÂ’t want PMs, yet you sent me one. Again, IÂ’ll take it public. You said:

Dont try to act like youre superior over me. I didn't lie to my family and hide in my basement like a coward just to have a dip. You put the same shit in your mouth that I did. At least I was always honest about it.

First, when it comes to quitting, which this is the only thing that this is about, I am superior.

Yes, I was a ninja for 16 years. I didn’t lie to anybody about that unless you are using “chick logic” and think that lying by omission is “lying”. It’s not. Never once did she ask I was dipping. Never once was I caught dipping. Never once was there a suspicion that I dipped. Never once was a can found. Never once did I lie. Yes, I put the same shit in my face that you did, but that is all that we have in common.

Now, why am I superior to you? I knew for years that I was an addict and was too weak to quit and too scared to face life without my false crutch. It took a cancer scare to give me enough courage to seek help. That scare was enough to cause my balls to enlarge just enough to say, “I’m done”. Saying, “I’m done” and seeking help led me to KTC. This site, its philosophy, and these fellow addicts taught me how to quit for today.

LOOT taught me, through other quitter’s cave and return to posting roll, that you can never forget that you are an addict. As soon as you forget that you are an addict you are destined to fail. LOOT also says that you can never forget day one. Each day, as I post roll with the Mighty Wagins’ I say aloud, “I am an addict. I remember day one. I will not use nicotine and any way, shape, or form today.” You also do not forget day 1, but for some stupid fucking reason you have said that you will buy a can of dip every hundred days to “test your quit”. If (you logic here) you pass your stupid test you will post day one again and start over (even though you tried to return and post a day 142 saying “you didn’t care what we say you are still quit 142 days). You don’t get it. You have learned nothing. You stopped posting after you hit 100, then at some point bought a can to test yourself, and had 4-5 dips before declaring yourself passed and you quit was still intact.

cmark taught me that “just one” is not an option. You never know which one is the one that will cause the cancer that can’t be reversed by stopping. Cmark had me read the story of Tom Kern and Randy. He had me re-read these. He had every newbie that wandered into chat read these, and each time he points a newbie to them I read them again. “Never again for any reason”. You feel that you are invincible and can tempt fate not just once, but 4-5 times after each one hundred days. Again, not only am I superior to you but a hell of a lot smarter.

Aglawyer taught me, by example, that no matter what life throws at you, dip wonÂ’t help it. A problem plus dip equals two problems. This is just so badass it belongs here. IÂ’m sure that you have also defiled this KTC quitter commandment.

Sportsfan231 taught me to “Stick around and become a friend”. I listened and I have over sixty contacts in my phone of quitters that I can call in a moment of crisis.. I can also contact any of these for no other reason other than because they are my friends. I know about their lives, their jobs, the families, their nicotine past, and their quit. You? I don’t know if you have any friends here. I doubt it. You had about 100 posts when you came back with your horseshit HOF speech and begged for confrontation. Even if you posted 100% of the time you didn’t contribute much and certainly didn’t pay it forward (thankfully).

I can go on and on with specific things that I have learned from reading this site, believing in its philosophy, or specifics from badass quitters, but I wonÂ’t. I have wasted enough time on your sorry ass. Please, go elsewhere, www.quitsmokeless.org has been suggested. If thatÂ’s not good then start your own support group where you and your inferior cohorts can continue to tempt fate every few days and consider yourselves as quit as you can dream of. Again, feel free to FUCK OFF AND DIE.

Truth. Awesome.

[Evil_Won]

You said that you didnÂ’t want PMs, yet you sent me one. Again, IÂ’ll take it public. You said:

Dont try to act like youre superior over me. I didn't lie to my family and hide in my basement like a coward just to have a dip. You put the same shit in your mouth that I did. At least I was always honest about it.

First, when it comes to quitting, which this is the only thing that this is about, I am superior.

Yes, I was a ninja for 16 years. I didn’t lie to anybody about that unless you are using “chick logic” and think that lying by omission is “lying”. It’s not. Never once did she ask I was dipping. Never once was I caught dipping. Never once was there a suspicion that I dipped. Never once was a can found. Never once did I lie. Yes, I put the same shit in my face that you did, but that is all that we have in common.

Now, why am I superior to you? I knew for years that I was an addict and was too weak to quit and too scared to face life without my false crutch. It took a cancer scare to give me enough courage to seek help. That scare was enough to cause my balls to enlarge just enough to say, “I’m done”. Saying, “I’m done” and seeking help led me to KTC. This site, its philosophy, and these fellow addicts taught me how to quit for today.

LOOT taught me, through other quitter’s cave and return to posting roll, that you can never forget that you are an addict. As soon as you forget that you are an addict you are destined to fail. LOOT also says that you can never forget day one. Each day, as I post roll with the Mighty Wagins’ I say aloud, “I am an addict. I remember day one. I will not use nicotine and any way, shape, or form today.” You also do not forget day 1, but for some stupid fucking reason you have said that you will buy a can of dip every hundred days to “test your quit”. If (you logic here) you pass your stupid test you will post day one again and start over (even though you tried to return and post a day 142 saying “you didn’t care what we say you are still quit 142 days). You don’t get it. You have learned nothing. You stopped posting after you hit 100, then at some point bought a can to test yourself, and had 4-5 dips before declaring yourself passed and you quit was still intact.

cmark taught me that “just one” is not an option. You never know which one is the one that will cause the cancer that can’t be reversed by stopping. Cmark had me read the story of Tom Kern and Randy. He had me re-read these. He had every newbie that wandered into chat read these, and each time he points a newbie to them I read them again. “Never again for any reason”. You feel that you are invincible and can tempt fate not just once, but 4-5 times after each one hundred days. Again, not only am I superior to you but a hell of a lot smarter.

Aglawyer taught me, by example, that no matter what life throws at you, dip wonÂ’t help it. A problem plus dip equals two problems. This is just so badass it belongs here. IÂ’m sure that you have also defiled this KTC quitter commandment.

Sportsfan231 taught me to “Stick around and become a friend”. I listened and I have over sixty contacts in my phone of quitters that I can call in a moment of crisis.. I can also contact any of these for no other reason other than because they are my friends. I know about their lives, their jobs, the families, their nicotine past, and their quit. You? I don’t know if you have any friends here. I doubt it. You had about 100 posts when you came back with your horseshit HOF speech and begged for confrontation. Even if you posted 100% of the time you didn’t contribute much and certainly didn’t pay it forward (thankfully).

I can go on and on with specific things that I have learned from reading this site, believing in its philosophy, or specifics from badass quitters, but I wonÂ’t. I have wasted enough time on your sorry ass. Please, go elsewhere, www.quitsmokeless.org has been suggested. If thatÂ’s not good then start your own support group where you and your inferior cohorts can continue to tempt fate every few days and consider yourselves as quit as you can dream of. Again, feel free to FUCK OFF AND DIE.

[Bruce]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

Perfectly said, and a great read....QLF today

ODAAT and NAFAR Men!!! 'bang head'

**bump**

this needs to be read by everyone.

G'damn evil that's a good read

[per034]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

Perfectly said, and a great read....QLF today

ODAAT and NAFAR Men!!! 'bang head'

**bump**

this needs to be read by everyone.

[30isEnuff]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

Perfectly said, and a great read....QLF today

ODAAT and NAFAR Men!!! 'bang head'

[kkljinc]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

Perfectly said, and a great read....QLF today

[kana]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.

absolutely...

[Scowick65]

Scott

After the youngins and Mrs. Evil were in bed I went to the local watering hole, a fairly regular occurrence for Evil these days.  Right away I realize something is off. Instead of the handful of ne’er do well regulars, the place is half full and a live band is playing. Not bad music actually. The proprietor, Carole, says she is hosting a “fundraiser” for Scott and I can make a donation or not. No pressure.

It turns out that Scott is unemployed after a career in who knows what. On top of unemployment he is battling throat cancer. Now, I previously confessed to Carole that I used to dip and coming there was an insurance policy against me sitting at home, after the family was sleep, and dipping for hours ninja fashion.  I asked if he was a smoker and of course the answer was yes. Additionally Carole told me that he dipped for as long as she knew him, gesturing with her hand since he was little. She then gave me an odd look, a half smirk, and dropped a pint in front of me “on the house”.

Now, I am as anti-social as they make them. I found a spot at the end of the bar, between two TVs and did what I do bestÂ…observe. Nice turn out for Scott. Lots of family and friends. Scott was dancing with the ladies as best as a cancer patient can, decked out in jeans and a white button-up shirt that looked like it was covering bones, but he mostly likely filled out last year. A blue bandana with white stars was upon his head and he tapped his foot to the beat of the country music that band played. ItÂ’s difficult to tell if the wear and tear on his body was from working in the trades for years or his chemo treatment.

An older woman that everyone approached, coming in and going out, sat by herself sipping a coke. I think this was ScottÂ’s mother. What was going through her mind? I can hardly think of something worse that the death of your child, but perhaps watching a slow and painful death may be. There was a very attractive young girl there that I learned was ScottÂ’s daughter. She was sixteen but looked much older. Many other young girls, her friends, were there to support her, and I couldnÂ’t help but notice that she was sneaking sips of alcohol, any alcohol, whenever she could from unattended drinks. Was she enjoying the party or self-medicating the feelings she has been having for months.

At midnight the band stopped and the juke box took over. I heard “Friends in Low Places” far too many fucking times after that.  One by one, the guests made their way over to Scott to say goodnight and Lord knows what else. While talking to Scott these friends and family put on acts worthy of Academy awards. Lots of laugher and smiles.  Plenty of hugs, handshakes, bro fists, and love. However, the moment they turned and couldn’t see Scott’s eyes they changed.

There was no more laughter. There was no more joy in their eyes. Their eyes were holding back tears and I could see, from the other end of the bar, the giant exhale, the huge sigh signaling “Jesus, I love that guy”. Or maybe it was “Poor fuck”. Maybe it was “I feel terrible for his mother and daughter”. I really can't begin to comprehend the vast range of emotions that flowed through that dive bar tonight. I even saw Scott's expression change when he tuned. The look of terror and dispair overtook the facade of bravery. "I'm great. Everything is looking good" was all bull shit.

Whatever the reason, these friends showed anguish, and I felt better knowing that I am no longer using dip. Yep, I did it for many fucking years, but hopefully I will never put my daughters, wife, and mother thought what this family is going through.

ItÂ’s good to be quit today.

Wow, Evil....you have a way with words and I felt like I was actually in that bar with you. I am so glad to be quit with you.

Well put E1. It is amazing how much we allowed tabacco and the nic bitch to become our number one priority. Some of it is the whole, "It wont happen to me" mentality. Some of it is just the fact that our addiction pushes us to the point where we are worried that someone will try and separate us from our "Precious."

Now being Quit, I see how selfish I was. Why in the hell would I put a can of poison ahead of my Family and Friends place in my life. All of whom would experience a tremendous amout of pain if I were to get sick from using tobacco. We all have lost people close to us so we should all know the feelings of loss and pain associated with it. Now add in the fact that in this guys case, it is self inflicted!! I am sure some of his family is pissed because he was being selfish for not thinking of anyone else while he fed his addiction. Others may be feeling guilty because they did not step up and say something to him about his addiction and allowed him to kill himself slowly. Either way, he is causing a lot of pain for everyone and essentially commiting suicide in front of everyone that cares about him.

211 days quit brings a whole new level of awareness and wisedom when it comes to these things. It also gives us perspective because any one of us could have been Scott.

Thanks for making my quit stronger today!

J

Another reminder of why I am here.