Quit or Die

[TheSweetness]

Evil

Congrats on hitting such a great benchmark. I've spoken with you before about "ninja dipping" and I know the things you described well. The lying. The hiding. The making decisions to steal time you can spend with people you love in order to sit on the toilet and dip.

Your story has been so helpful for me, specifically in my earlier days of quit and you've been a huge help.

Keep it up!

(and get to the dentist!)

[rickddd]

GREAT stuff, Evil! Thanks for making my quit stronger today.

[kana]

I'm throwing my long ass HOF speech in here, because....I can.

16,543. That is me, a number, nothing special.  I am the 16,543rd member to register at Kill the Can. I am also other numbers (move over Rainman, you phag).  I started dipping when I was 24 and quit when I was 40. That means that I was intentionally killing myself for 40% of my life. 

I spent on average 10-12 hours a day with a huge dip in. Conservatively, that’s 58,400 hours of active dipping. That’s 17% of all hours that I have been alive I’ve been trying to die. 

At 1.2 minimum ounces per can, and one can day, thatÂ’s 8.4 ounces per week, 438 ounces per year and 7,008 ounces over 16 years. ThatÂ’s 438 pounds of dip consumed.

At 2.5” diameter and 7/8” height, a can of dip has a volume of 4.3 cu.in.  That’s 30.1 a week, 1569.5 a year or 25,112 cubic inches of dip over 16 years. That’s 14.53 cubic feet, or a decent full refrigerator’s worth.

The average cost of $5.84 per can, at one a day, for 16 years is $34,105.60. ThatÂ’s the same price as a 2013 Ford Mustang GT Premium.

I am not the 16,543rd person to make the Hall of Fame however; many have fallen to old habits. Call dip whatever you wish: moist tobacco, cat turd, snuff, etc.  I call it evil and for 16 years it won over every decision in my life.

•   Evil won the battle between having a multi-hour dip alone at home, and crashing at my wifeÂ’s place (then girlfriend), a former Playboy Lingerie Issue model.
•   Evil won the battle between spending quality time with my daughters, and hiding in the bathroom sneaking a dip.
•   Evil won the battle between chilling out with my wife, and pretending to have hours of work to do in my office.
•   Evil won the battle between spending $5 on lunch, and spending $5 on a can of dip.
•   Evil won the battle between getting to bed at 11pm, and dipping until 2 am. 
•   Evil won the battle between eating three squares a day, and being called anorexic (no time to eat with a mouthful of shit).
•   Evil won the battle between driving the shortest route from point A to point B, and driving for miles out of the way just to savor a few extra minutes of dip time. I did however expense those miles so that was nice.
•   Evil won the battle between hugging my wife and risking her feeling the can in my back pocket (between my wallet and me), and abstaining from showing affection to my soul mate.
•   Evil won the battle between saving money to spend on things my family needed, and sneaking $5 at a time for dip.
•   Evil won the battle between staying at the hospital when my 16 month old had pneumonia, and racing home to dip by myself thinking it would help me relax. What a loser father I was.
•   Evil won the battle between being a complete loner, recluse, addicted douche bag, and openly discussing my problem with the woman that I made a vow to. (IÂ’m still a loner, recluse, and douchebag but at least I admitted to my wife that I was a dipper).

I am an addict, and asshole, and a raging douche bag (although I do not have a fake DB tan). Always have been in every component of my life, and always will be. There is no pill cure for nicotine addiction or for being a douche.

Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer: lung, breast, liver, brain, you name it. Read that again, it’s not an exaggeration. Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer. A cousin and I have searched for a death of natural causes, a stroke, a grabber, bolt of lightning, the fucking Titanic…no luck. Cancer. My mom never smoked and rarely drinks; only the occasional vodka gimlet with extra lime juice on a holiday. She never went in the sun yet fought skin cancer. Now she is battling uterine cancer and undergoing chemo.  When I was little my mom told me that if I ever smoked she “would break my knees”. When a Sicilian woman tells you that, it is a literal threat not an empty promise. I never smoked, and still have knees, but I did dip and she never knew about it. Maybe if she caught me Uncle Cosmo would have broken my legs and I would have quit years ago.

Never have I loved and hated something with such voracity as I do with dip. I craved it and would go to extremes to get it.  I would plan ahead to have enough for the weekend or stash away enough for a ninja-dipping vacation with the family. Every time I bought a can I hated it. I hated giving the money to Big Tobacco. I hated that nicotine was more important than my family and my own life. I hated that every gas station near my home would have a tin on the counter ready as soon as I walked in.  I hated the fear getting an oral cancer diagnosis from the dentist. I hate the debate in my head of whether I will fight it and live disfigured for a few more years, or if I will lay down, accept my fate, and hopefully go quickly.  I wanted to quit with every can bought, but was a weak pussy addict.

Evil won.

The bad news was delivered by my dentist on my quit date, 10/10/12. He said things that I will never forget. “I see cellular changes”.  “It doesn’t look good at all”. “I’m not going to send you for a biopsy yet, but I want to see you in 30 days after you are nicotine free”. “I want you to be a patient for a long time”. Have I been back to the dentist? No. Why not? I have no idea. I’m an asshole, an addict, and a douche bag. Maybe what he saw 100 days ago healed itself. Maybe what he saw then is now stage 1 or 2 cancer. My actions make no sense. You can never understand or reason with an addict, an asshole, or a douche bag.

Am I afraid?  Yes and no. I am not afraid of death. I taunt death on a daily basis and appreciate physical pain (all chefs love all forms of pain – be it a burn (accidental or a intentional contest of pain tolerance), a cut (same circumstances as a burn), an 18 day on your feet, or other self-destructive abuse). What I do fear is knowing that my daughters may grow up without me; that they will feel that something in this world was more important than them. That is simply not true. They were and are more important, but there was something stronger than I was.  Maybe I won’t be at their college graduation. Maybe not even their high school graduation. Maybe I won’t be there to walk them down the isle, or to see my grandkids.  These thoughts torture me daily and they are my own doing.

Upon leaving the dentist that day I threw out everything and went into an immediate funk, fog, shock and do not remember how I stumbled onto KTC that night, but I am glad I did. This site works for me. Quit for today and today only. Post roll and promise to your group that you will not use nicotine in any form. Repeat tomorrow. So simple and yet it works.

If anyone is still reading (sorry for my diarrhea of the keyboard) hopefully it is a newbie that just joined or is thinking of joining. You can’t quit nic alone. Sure, one in a hundred may be able to, but chances are you are not him. I couldn’t do it. I would have caved every day after day one. Why didn’t I cave? Why didn’t evil win on any of the previous 99 days? Because I got involved here. I got to know my fellow quit badass brothers. I made a promise to them that I would not use and I stuck to it. I did not want to let them down! We have a bond, a brotherhood; we quit at the same time and pulled through the fog together. They didn’t cave today and neither will I. 

At night, or whenever possible, when my cravings are the worst I log into Live Chat. Chat is where I really got to know guys from KTC and they are the ONLY reason I am quit. So, shout out and everlasting gratitude to those I chat with day and night and text with during the day. I will not name specific names for fear of leaving someone out. You know who you are. Maybe you were they guy that sent me my first PM words of encouragement. Maybe the guy that first offered a phone number. Maybe you were the first guy that gave me a shout-out as a supporter in Jackwagin Roll. Maybe you are the first guy to ask via text, how big my cock is or if I am nude in Chat (the answers are huge and of course).  Hold your head up high today for you helped someone reach the HOF and maybe even avoid a horrific death. You are badass quitters and I think of you all as friends. I hope that I have been able to pay a little forward to the newbies that have come after me.

100 days nicotine free. An excuse to ramble on, but I am not cured. Dip was, and is, evil and I am still an addict, an asshole, and a douche bag.  A cave is, and will always be, lurking. I will not think about the second floor, next month, or even tomorrow. I will quit for today.  I made my pledge to not use today by posting roll, and I will repeat tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day, a new struggle, and I will face it then.

Your pal,

Evil

Great Stuff Bro!!

Ditto 'Cheers'

[jhaenel23]

I'm throwing my long ass HOF speech in here, because....I can.

16,543. That is me, a number, nothing special. I am the 16,543rd member to register at Kill the Can. I am also other numbers (move over Rainman, you phag). I started dipping when I was 24 and quit when I was 40. That means that I was intentionally killing myself for 40% of my life.

I spent on average 10-12 hours a day with a huge dip in. Conservatively, thatÂ’s 58,400 hours of active dipping. ThatÂ’s 17% of all hours that I have been alive IÂ’ve been trying to die.

At 1.2 minimum ounces per can, and one can day, thatÂ’s 8.4 ounces per week, 438 ounces per year and 7,008 ounces over 16 years. ThatÂ’s 438 pounds of dip consumed.

At 2.5” diameter and 7/8” height, a can of dip has a volume of 4.3 cu.in. That’s 30.1 a week, 1569.5 a year or 25,112 cubic inches of dip over 16 years. That’s 14.53 cubic feet, or a decent full refrigerator’s worth.

The average cost of $5.84 per can, at one a day, for 16 years is $34,105.60. ThatÂ’s the same price as a 2013 Ford Mustang GT Premium.

I am not the 16,543rd person to make the Hall of Fame however; many have fallen to old habits. Call dip whatever you wish: moist tobacco, cat turd, snuff, etc. I call it evil and for 16 years it won over every decision in my life.

•   Evil won the battle between having a multi-hour dip alone at home, and crashing at my wifeÂ’s place (then girlfriend), a former Playboy Lingerie Issue model.
•   Evil won the battle between spending quality time with my daughters, and hiding in the bathroom sneaking a dip.
•   Evil won the battle between chilling out with my wife, and pretending to have hours of work to do in my office.
•   Evil won the battle between spending $5 on lunch, and spending $5 on a can of dip.
•   Evil won the battle between getting to bed at 11pm, and dipping until 2 am.
•   Evil won the battle between eating three squares a day, and being called anorexic (no time to eat with a mouthful of shit).
•   Evil won the battle between driving the shortest route from point A to point B, and driving for miles out of the way just to savor a few extra minutes of dip time. I did however expense those miles so that was nice.
•   Evil won the battle between hugging my wife and risking her feeling the can in my back pocket (between my wallet and me), and abstaining from showing affection to my soul mate.
•   Evil won the battle between saving money to spend on things my family needed, and sneaking $5 at a time for dip.
•   Evil won the battle between staying at the hospital when my 16 month old had pneumonia, and racing home to dip by myself thinking it would help me relax. What a loser father I was.
•   Evil won the battle between being a complete loner, recluse, addicted douche bag, and openly discussing my problem with the woman that I made a vow to. (IÂ’m still a loner, recluse, and douchebag but at least I admitted to my wife that I was a dipper).

I am an addict, and asshole, and a raging douche bag (although I do not have a fake DB tan). Always have been in every component of my life, and always will be. There is no pill cure for nicotine addiction or for being a douche.

Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer: lung, breast, liver, brain, you name it. Read that again, it’s not an exaggeration. Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer. A cousin and I have searched for a death of natural causes, a stroke, a grabber, bolt of lightning, the fucking Titanic…no luck. Cancer. My mom never smoked and rarely drinks; only the occasional vodka gimlet with extra lime juice on a holiday. She never went in the sun yet fought skin cancer. Now she is battling uterine cancer and undergoing chemo. When I was little my mom told me that if I ever smoked she “would break my knees”. When a Sicilian woman tells you that, it is a literal threat not an empty promise. I never smoked, and still have knees, but I did dip and she never knew about it. Maybe if she caught me Uncle Cosmo would have broken my legs and I would have quit years ago.

Never have I loved and hated something with such voracity as I do with dip. I craved it and would go to extremes to get it. I would plan ahead to have enough for the weekend or stash away enough for a ninja-dipping vacation with the family. Every time I bought a can I hated it. I hated giving the money to Big Tobacco. I hated that nicotine was more important than my family and my own life. I hated that every gas station near my home would have a tin on the counter ready as soon as I walked in. I hated the fear getting an oral cancer diagnosis from the dentist. I hate the debate in my head of whether I will fight it and live disfigured for a few more years, or if I will lay down, accept my fate, and hopefully go quickly. I wanted to quit with every can bought, but was a weak pussy addict.

Evil won.

The bad news was delivered by my dentist on my quit date, 10/10/12. He said things that I will never forget. “I see cellular changes”. “It doesn’t look good at all”. “I’m not going to send you for a biopsy yet, but I want to see you in 30 days after you are nicotine free”. “I want you to be a patient for a long time”. Have I been back to the dentist? No. Why not? I have no idea. I’m an asshole, an addict, and a douche bag. Maybe what he saw 100 days ago healed itself. Maybe what he saw then is now stage 1 or 2 cancer. My actions make no sense. You can never understand or reason with an addict, an asshole, or a douche bag.

Am I afraid? Yes and no. I am not afraid of death. I taunt death on a daily basis and appreciate physical pain (all chefs love all forms of pain – be it a burn (accidental or a intentional contest of pain tolerance), a cut (same circumstances as a burn), an 18 day on your feet, or other self-destructive abuse). What I do fear is knowing that my daughters may grow up without me; that they will feel that something in this world was more important than them. That is simply not true. They were and are more important, but there was something stronger than I was. Maybe I won’t be at their college graduation. Maybe not even their high school graduation. Maybe I won’t be there to walk them down the isle, or to see my grandkids. These thoughts torture me daily and they are my own doing.

Upon leaving the dentist that day I threw out everything and went into an immediate funk, fog, shock and do not remember how I stumbled onto KTC that night, but I am glad I did. This site works for me. Quit for today and today only. Post roll and promise to your group that you will not use nicotine in any form. Repeat tomorrow. So simple and yet it works.

If anyone is still reading (sorry for my diarrhea of the keyboard) hopefully it is a newbie that just joined or is thinking of joining. You canÂ’t quit nic alone. Sure, one in a hundred may be able to, but chances are you are not him. I couldnÂ’t do it. I would have caved every day after day one. Why didnÂ’t I cave? Why didnÂ’t evil win on any of the previous 99 days? Because I got involved here. I got to know my fellow quit badass brothers. I made a promise to them that I would not use and I stuck to it. I did not want to let them down! We have a bond, a brotherhood; we quit at the same time and pulled through the fog together. They didnÂ’t cave today and neither will I.

At night, or whenever possible, when my cravings are the worst I log into Live Chat. Chat is where I really got to know guys from KTC and they are the ONLY reason I am quit. So, shout out and everlasting gratitude to those I chat with day and night and text with during the day. I will not name specific names for fear of leaving someone out. You know who you are. Maybe you were they guy that sent me my first PM words of encouragement. Maybe the guy that first offered a phone number. Maybe you were the first guy that gave me a shout-out as a supporter in Jackwagin Roll. Maybe you are the first guy to ask via text, how big my cock is or if I am nude in Chat (the answers are huge and of course). Hold your head up high today for you helped someone reach the HOF and maybe even avoid a horrific death. You are badass quitters and I think of you all as friends. I hope that I have been able to pay a little forward to the newbies that have come after me.

100 days nicotine free. An excuse to ramble on, but I am not cured. Dip was, and is, evil and I am still an addict, an asshole, and a douche bag. A cave is, and will always be, lurking. I will not think about the second floor, next month, or even tomorrow. I will quit for today. I made my pledge to not use today by posting roll, and I will repeat tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day, a new struggle, and I will face it then.

Your pal,

Evil

Great Stuff Bro!!

[Evil_Won]

I'm throwing my long ass HOF speech in here, because....I can.

16,543. That is me, a number, nothing special. I am the 16,543rd member to register at Kill the Can. I am also other numbers (move over Rainman, you phag). I started dipping when I was 24 and quit when I was 40. That means that I was intentionally killing myself for 40% of my life.

I spent on average 10-12 hours a day with a huge dip in. Conservatively, thatÂ’s 58,400 hours of active dipping. ThatÂ’s 17% of all hours that I have been alive IÂ’ve been trying to die.

At 1.2 minimum ounces per can, and one can day, thatÂ’s 8.4 ounces per week, 438 ounces per year and 7,008 ounces over 16 years. ThatÂ’s 438 pounds of dip consumed.

At 2.5” diameter and 7/8” height, a can of dip has a volume of 4.3 cu.in. That’s 30.1 a week, 1569.5 a year or 25,112 cubic inches of dip over 16 years. That’s 14.53 cubic feet, or a decent full refrigerator’s worth.

The average cost of $5.84 per can, at one a day, for 16 years is $34,105.60. ThatÂ’s the same price as a 2013 Ford Mustang GT Premium.

I am not the 16,543rd person to make the Hall of Fame however; many have fallen to old habits. Call dip whatever you wish: moist tobacco, cat turd, snuff, etc. I call it evil and for 16 years it won over every decision in my life.

•   Evil won the battle between having a multi-hour dip alone at home, and crashing at my wifeÂ’s place (then girlfriend), a former Playboy Lingerie Issue model.
•   Evil won the battle between spending quality time with my daughters, and hiding in the bathroom sneaking a dip.
•   Evil won the battle between chilling out with my wife, and pretending to have hours of work to do in my office.
•   Evil won the battle between spending $5 on lunch, and spending $5 on a can of dip.
•   Evil won the battle between getting to bed at 11pm, and dipping until 2 am.
•   Evil won the battle between eating three squares a day, and being called anorexic (no time to eat with a mouthful of shit).
•   Evil won the battle between driving the shortest route from point A to point B, and driving for miles out of the way just to savor a few extra minutes of dip time. I did however expense those miles so that was nice.
•   Evil won the battle between hugging my wife and risking her feeling the can in my back pocket (between my wallet and me), and abstaining from showing affection to my soul mate.
•   Evil won the battle between saving money to spend on things my family needed, and sneaking $5 at a time for dip.
•   Evil won the battle between staying at the hospital when my 16 month old had pneumonia, and racing home to dip by myself thinking it would help me relax. What a loser father I was.
•   Evil won the battle between being a complete loner, recluse, addicted douche bag, and openly discussing my problem with the woman that I made a vow to. (IÂ’m still a loner, recluse, and douchebag but at least I admitted to my wife that I was a dipper).

I am an addict, and asshole, and a raging douche bag (although I do not have a fake DB tan). Always have been in every component of my life, and always will be. There is no pill cure for nicotine addiction or for being a douche.

Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer: lung, breast, liver, brain, you name it. Read that again, it’s not an exaggeration. Everyone on my mother’s side of the family has died from cancer. A cousin and I have searched for a death of natural causes, a stroke, a grabber, bolt of lightning, the fucking Titanic…no luck. Cancer. My mom never smoked and rarely drinks; only the occasional vodka gimlet with extra lime juice on a holiday. She never went in the sun yet fought skin cancer. Now she is battling uterine cancer and undergoing chemo. When I was little my mom told me that if I ever smoked she “would break my knees”. When a Sicilian woman tells you that, it is a literal threat not an empty promise. I never smoked, and still have knees, but I did dip and she never knew about it. Maybe if she caught me Uncle Cosmo would have broken my legs and I would have quit years ago.

Never have I loved and hated something with such voracity as I do with dip. I craved it and would go to extremes to get it. I would plan ahead to have enough for the weekend or stash away enough for a ninja-dipping vacation with the family. Every time I bought a can I hated it. I hated giving the money to Big Tobacco. I hated that nicotine was more important than my family and my own life. I hated that every gas station near my home would have a tin on the counter ready as soon as I walked in. I hated the fear getting an oral cancer diagnosis from the dentist. I hate the debate in my head of whether I will fight it and live disfigured for a few more years, or if I will lay down, accept my fate, and hopefully go quickly. I wanted to quit with every can bought, but was a weak pussy addict.

Evil won.

The bad news was delivered by my dentist on my quit date, 10/10/12. He said things that I will never forget. “I see cellular changes”. “It doesn’t look good at all”. “I’m not going to send you for a biopsy yet, but I want to see you in 30 days after you are nicotine free”. “I want you to be a patient for a long time”. Have I been back to the dentist? No. Why not? I have no idea. I’m an asshole, an addict, and a douche bag. Maybe what he saw 100 days ago healed itself. Maybe what he saw then is now stage 1 or 2 cancer. My actions make no sense. You can never understand or reason with an addict, an asshole, or a douche bag.

Am I afraid? Yes and no. I am not afraid of death. I taunt death on a daily basis and appreciate physical pain (all chefs love all forms of pain – be it a burn (accidental or a intentional contest of pain tolerance), a cut (same circumstances as a burn), an 18 day on your feet, or other self-destructive abuse). What I do fear is knowing that my daughters may grow up without me; that they will feel that something in this world was more important than them. That is simply not true. They were and are more important, but there was something stronger than I was. Maybe I won’t be at their college graduation. Maybe not even their high school graduation. Maybe I won’t be there to walk them down the isle, or to see my grandkids. These thoughts torture me daily and they are my own doing.

Upon leaving the dentist that day I threw out everything and went into an immediate funk, fog, shock and do not remember how I stumbled onto KTC that night, but I am glad I did. This site works for me. Quit for today and today only. Post roll and promise to your group that you will not use nicotine in any form. Repeat tomorrow. So simple and yet it works.

If anyone is still reading (sorry for my diarrhea of the keyboard) hopefully it is a newbie that just joined or is thinking of joining. You canÂ’t quit nic alone. Sure, one in a hundred may be able to, but chances are you are not him. I couldnÂ’t do it. I would have caved every day after day one. Why didnÂ’t I cave? Why didnÂ’t evil win on any of the previous 99 days? Because I got involved here. I got to know my fellow quit badass brothers. I made a promise to them that I would not use and I stuck to it. I did not want to let them down! We have a bond, a brotherhood; we quit at the same time and pulled through the fog together. They didnÂ’t cave today and neither will I.

At night, or whenever possible, when my cravings are the worst I log into Live Chat. Chat is where I really got to know guys from KTC and they are the ONLY reason I am quit. So, shout out and everlasting gratitude to those I chat with day and night and text with during the day. I will not name specific names for fear of leaving someone out. You know who you are. Maybe you were they guy that sent me my first PM words of encouragement. Maybe the guy that first offered a phone number. Maybe you were the first guy that gave me a shout-out as a supporter in Jackwagin Roll. Maybe you are the first guy to ask via text, how big my cock is or if I am nude in Chat (the answers are huge and of course). Hold your head up high today for you helped someone reach the HOF and maybe even avoid a horrific death. You are badass quitters and I think of you all as friends. I hope that I have been able to pay a little forward to the newbies that have come after me.

100 days nicotine free. An excuse to ramble on, but I am not cured. Dip was, and is, evil and I am still an addict, an asshole, and a douche bag. A cave is, and will always be, lurking. I will not think about the second floor, next month, or even tomorrow. I will quit for today. I made my pledge to not use today by posting roll, and I will repeat tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day, a new struggle, and I will face it then.

Your pal,

Evil

[J2b]

Hey, thanks again for the help on the rib roast.

[Evil_Won]

Looks like you got your misenplace!

Oui chef.

[kana]

Day 70 Update

Quitting is a textbook example of manic depression.  I can go for days when the thought of dip enters my mind every few minutes, but I never give it serious thought and it quickly goes away leaving me strong. Other times, like it did on Saturday (Day 67), I am crusing along when WHAM! a crave comes with such verocity that I start to shake, sweat, and fight the urge to cave to nic.  All I can say is thank goodness for the bond of botherhood that I have formed with my fellow quitters and vets. Those whom I chat with at night in Live Chat, those that I meet for breakfast or lunch, and those that I can text with during the day. These guys are the tools that have kept me quit. I will not let them down today.

this is some strong quit - learn what it takes to defeat the bitch and put it into use when the going gets tough -

Bring it all day long

These tools have kept me quit as well Evil. Nicely done.

Evil, Looks like you got your misenplace! Nicely done on the quitting. I had some rough patches from the 60's - 80's after that I definitely went to the next level, because the craves subsided dramatically. It get's way better, and I'm feeling really good right now. Freedom one day at a time.

[30yraddict]

Day 70 Update

Quitting is a textbook example of manic depression.  I can go for days when the thought of dip enters my mind every few minutes, but I never give it serious thought and it quickly goes away leaving me strong. Other times, like it did on Saturday (Day 67), I am crusing along when WHAM! a crave comes with such verocity that I start to shake, sweat, and fight the urge to cave to nic.  All I can say is thank goodness for the bond of botherhood that I have formed with my fellow quitters and vets. Those whom I chat with at night in Live Chat, those that I meet for breakfast or lunch, and those that I can text with during the day. These guys are the tools that have kept me quit. I will not let them down today.

this is some strong quit - learn what it takes to defeat the bitch and put it into use when the going gets tough -

Bring it all day long

These tools have kept me quit as well Evil. Nicely done.

[cbird65]

Day 70 Update

Quitting is a textbook example of manic depression. I can go for days when the thought of dip enters my mind every few minutes, but I never give it serious thought and it quickly goes away leaving me strong. Other times, like it did on Saturday (Day 67), I am crusing along when WHAM! a crave comes with such verocity that I start to shake, sweat, and fight the urge to cave to nic. All I can say is thank goodness for the bond of botherhood that I have formed with my fellow quitters and vets. Those whom I chat with at night in Live Chat, those that I meet for breakfast or lunch, and those that I can text with during the day. These guys are the tools that have kept me quit. I will not let them down today.

this is some strong quit - learn what it takes to defeat the bitch and put it into use when the going gets tough -

Bring it all day long

[Evil_Won]

Day 70 Update

Quitting is a textbook example of manic depression. I can go for days when the thought of dip enters my mind every few minutes, but I never give it serious thought and it quickly goes away leaving me strong. Other times, like it did on Saturday (Day 67), I am crusing along when WHAM! a crave comes with such verocity that I start to shake, sweat, and fight the urge to cave to nic. All I can say is thank goodness for the bond of botherhood that I have formed with my fellow quitters and vets. Those whom I chat with at night in Live Chat, those that I meet for breakfast or lunch, and those that I can text with during the day. These guys are the tools that have kept me quit. I will not let them down today.

[Radman]

Hang in there, man.... the pieces will fall together. I promise you that in a few months you'll be holding your head high. Both of your previous posts hit home with me, so I could ramble on for two pages. I'll attempt to keep it brief.

Telling your wife was 100% correct. I didn't tell my wife until several weeks into my quit, so I was in the exact situation. Let her read the spouse page if she hasn't already. That made a big difference. She honestly had no idea that nicotine is an actual addiction. She was (and still is) a great help. When the kids (I had 2-year-old twins and a 7-year-old at the time) pushed me to the edge, my wife could see it coming. More than once she'd see my temper building and give me an "out" to walk away. "Did I hear the dog barking?", "Did you leave your gear in the truck?", etc, etc. She'd throw some goofy thing out that gave me reason to just walk away for a few minutes. Once I learned what the hell she was doing, it worked great. I can't thank her enough for saving my kids from a lot of grief.

Weight gain: I quit in September 2010. Like you, I would eat anything that I could get my hands on. In October 2010, I blew out my knee. I was on crutches 10 weeks. I blew up like a marshmallow. No worries. Quit is first. I hit my highest weight ever at about 255. Since that time, my quit has matured and it's given me a new "I can do anything" outlook. I've since gotten back down near my college weight. I'm currently at 222, running 3 times a week, and in the best shape of my life. At 6'-4", I'm happy with that. You can worry about all of that later. For now, just focus on your quit.

Need support or help, just PM me. I'm here bro. Quit on.....

[GR8WHITEBUFFALO]

Great job. Being totally honest and upfront about your nicotine addiction is hard but getting it out in the open will help you deal with it. You have worked hard over the last 30 days and it will get easier. Nicotine didn't make you a better person. Try to get some excersise to help work through your rages. If that doesn't work, think about seeing a physician and discuss your concerns with them. You can do it.

[SirDerek]

Here is an update. Since quitting (day 30 today) I have gained weight and been a complete asshole (more than usual). I have never been a happy-go-lucky chap. Look-my-way-and-I'll-fucking-gut-you-and-no-piece-will-ever-be-found is a much better and appropriate description.

Last night my older daughter (7), at dinner, said "Dad doesn't seem happy anymore". Kind of hit me hard. True, I have not been myself. I have had an exceptionally short temper (didn't think that was possible). I have had no energy despite eating constantly. I drink more (nowhere near excessive yet). I am unable to keep any feeling bottled up and every filter has been removed, which was unforntuate for many people during an election month. Odd thing is my wife NEVER knew I dipped. Not a clue. Not a suspicion.

Last week I met with sox2012 at Hooters (there is a pic somewhere) and he suggested I come clean to my wife and use her for support. After my daughter's bombshell, and while my daughters were taking a bath, I decided to come clean.

My wife was asking questions about my obvious funk and depression. She assumed it was an "us" issue and asked if I wanted a divorce. I told her that I had been dipping for over 4 years (couldn't admit to 16 years), since our 2nd daughter was born. She knew at that time that I was having a really hard time. I told her I had quit 29 days ago and that it was difficult.

When asked why I hid it from her for years I said because I knew that she would be upset, it's a gross habit, it kills you, etc., and I didn't want a lecture or fight. She suggested using a patch or something to keep me quit and keep me from being a bigger asshole than usual. I said that I didn't want to substitute one drug for another and that the NIC was out of my system. Every issue I now face is not NIC withdrawl, but habit withdrawl and it fucking sucks hairy balls.

Was coming clean the right thing to do? Too soon to tell.

ok now the hard response.

I personally believe you did do yourself a great favor by comming clean. As you say it may be too soon, but now you can show your wife the site and the spousal section (http://www.killthecan.org/community/spouse.asp), along with the what to expect as this can help to show her what you are going through.

I may also lead to a good teaching situation with your daughter. My sons are slightly older at 11 and 14, but they have seen what I went through and think that it gives them a little better outlook.

just remember to be patient and reach out to them with love and kindness and let them know that it may be tough for you now, but things will get so much better soon.

[SirDerek]

Funny how things have changed for me over the past 17 days. 

For the past 16 years I would throw in a huge dip after everyone was asleep, knock back a few beers, and surf the web or work from home until 2am.  I would wake up the next morning dead tied and have strong coffee intravenously all day just to keep me conscious until the next night. It was an awful cycle.

If there was one good thing about my habit, it was that I didn't eat much. I was a professional chef for years and "tasted" all day long but never had time to actually sit down and eat a full meal. If I did have time to sit I chose to have a dip than a good meal.

Now, dip-less, I am getting to bed early, waking up clear headed, having one coffee a day (if that), and eating regular meal.

In 17 days I have put on 24 pounds. That may seem extreme but I have been under weight all of my life. "Never trust a skinny chef"...whatever. A skinny chef is a chef that has a bad dip, drug, alcohol or all of the above problem!

17 days ago I was 6'-1" and 164 lbs. Today I'm 188 lbs!  If this keeps up I'll need to seek out a "Kill the waist" support group.

Nice observation.

Living to simply feed an addiction is an empty life. You are sbout reaqaint yourself with real living. I was like you. Infact, it had been so long since I simply lived life I had forgotten what it was. Addiction was normal, not life.

Damn life is better.

Good stuff. I am very happy for you. Never, never again. One day at a time.

Evil -

I too gained 25 ish pounds during my quit. I took notice around day 60, thank goodness, and started to do 'weight-loss' exercise, just enough where as of now I have taken 5 lbs of that off. So the good part is that we can take the weight back off.

just remember everything in moderation (because as I also found out it tastes so damn good).

Be strong my friend.