Brothers, I apologize for the following long-winded post, but, give it a read. Aside from me blowing off steam and putting my mind at the ready for what tomorrow brings, I do need some advice and encouragement.
My name is Aaron.
I'm nineteen years old, and I live in a crappy little town in Ohio.
It's a crappy town, but I was born here and I love it all the same.
I'm a dipper. Although I've been unemployed since December, I dip.
I've done it all. I've done almost everything I ever wanted to do...
In the way of stupidity, that is.
When I was 18, I moved out of this house with my ex. I lived about thirty miles away. In that town, I discovered beer. On one occasion, I came within a couple shots of meeting my maker.
I discovered reefer. Although (aside from one occasion, but not because I was stoned) nothing terrible ever happened when I was stoned, more than once I almost got caught. The worst memory I have of almost getting busted was when my ex got stopped for not using a turn signal. I was the only passenger. I was flying higher than the stars, with about a dimebag worth of herb and a bowl under my seat. A few months later, I made this an occasional thing, instead of a daily thing. I haven't sparked any reefer since January.
I also discovered cigars. When I came home, I discovered cigarettes. I then discovered the pipe. Then, came the fateful day when I saw a stack of cans in a closeout bin... I had seen a million people tossing in a pinch, and always wondered... Soon enough, I would cave in... I bought a single can of Grizzly, and I was finished... Hooked deep... I said "I'll stop after this one is gone." But I bought another can... Then I graduated to Skoal, with a single can of Original Fine Cut.
Then I graduated to Copenhagen, buying Longhorn when I was too broke to afford my favorite fix... Then I found Redman... Then I quit the pipe, cigars, cigarettes... and then, I used nicotine gum to fight the craving for chew...
Recently, after ages being clean of all of it, I found a hidden can of Copenhagen in an incredibly stressful moment... I left it be for a full day, and caved in like I'd been beaten. I packed the biggest lip I'd had yet, and enjoyed it. Then I bought a can of Skoal Straight... Then a can of Peach. Then a can of Longhorn Straight, and a can of Skoal Vanilla... That can is across the room from me, to disappear tomorrow...
As I am writing this, I have the last dip I will ever take packed in...
Let me tell you, I haven't had an easy life. I was born with bipolar disorder, and the road to being stable has been long, bumpy, and had so many bridges out that I can't remember them all... But this... This is hard. This is a conflict.
Why quit something you enjoy doing? Because it is indeed slowly killing me.
Why am I going to quit?
I've been in two relationships before now. Both of those chicks were crazy. One of them was a TOTAL psycho. Ever had one of these? Every time she didn't get her way "Oh, you'd be better off without me." After she finally actually tried to kill herself, I told her "You need help. I suggest you get it. But, you've hurt me, and I can't be with you anymore" Never even saw her in person... All long distance. Let me tell you, fellas, I'm not gonna recommend a long distance relationship to anybody. My sister's worked out, and she's planning wedding. That one successful one rocks, but the hundred others that ain't gonna work out are hell.
That leads me to the second...
Long distance, but she actually came here... After I came back home (and she came with me... big mistake) I realized that, although I loved smoking reefer and sippin' beer (and I became a connoisuer, just like I did with everything, tobacco included) and smoking reefer (and if not for something later in this post, I'd still do that on the weekends) I realized that I only did it daily because I couldn't stand her anymore... She was manipulative, immature, etc. The night I'd almost died from drinkin' (two fifths of vodka, a beer, and a 24 of Steel Reserve could kill almost anybody else that I know, so I had the hand of God on me that night, and I'm glad to still be here) I realized something... As I was tracing my internet activity the next day and issuing apologies for being a huge asshole, I found a message that I was really sorry for... I won't tell the whole story, but in my stupor, my emotions were laid bare. The walls were down, and I realized I'd rather be anywhere than with her. Well, I ignored it. "Naw, I was plastered. No way in hell I really feel that way." After she went home, I realized I had felt that way. I felt like a moron.
Then my cousin died in a way that I'll discuss if anyone is interested, but I won't make this post longer than it needs to be. I got incredibly baked with some friends, and after they all went off to do their own thing in the house we were in or went to bed, I figured a lot of stuff out. I set out on a path of "Let's just live a day at a time and see what happens".
Well, while I was with my ex, there was a thanksgiving dinner at church. I went, she went with me. While I was there, a beautiful young woman caught my eye. I could tell by looking that she was like me, but I thought "I'm with somebody. I can't go talk to another woman. Wouldn't be right." But hidden in my memories, she was there...
On April 4th, I went to a little get together up at church to welcome my cousin in as the new youth pastor. The moment I walked in the door, I looked down the hall and just about had a stroke... There she stood. I saw her friend give her a nudge, and she walked up... After a minute or two, she asked me "Where's your girlfriend?" "Well, she went home in December, just before Christmas." She gave a sympathetic "Oh." Well, I got to talking to her... all evening.
My car had been broken down since about June of '09, and had to be trailered home when I came home... So, I had my mother's Impala. I liked this woman.
I'm a devout Baptist, and although some of my views (including those on reefer) put me toward being a libertarian, I identify as a conservative, and on most things, I'm about as much of a right winger as you can be without being an anarchist.
I like fishing, shooting, video games, driving, NASCAR (and any form of racing... Dream job, seconded only by software development), fixin' cars, and anything to do with programming or fixing computers. All in all, she's pretty much just like me. We even like the same music, pretty much.
Well, she'd had me on her mind since that day in November... She told a little white lie to make sure I'd take her and her friends home. This was after she slipped me a piece of paper which I couldn't read because things got busy.
Well, I took 'em home. I decided "Alright, for once, I'm going to be stupidly honest and hope it doesn't go to hell in a handbasket". So, I told all of 'em about my past with alcohol and reefer. They were amazed. But... It all went well.
When I got in her driveway, I cut the ignition... She told me that piece of paper contained her address and phone number. I was shocked... She took me by the hand. I showed her one more little bit of myself... I have a history with self-injury, and even that didn't bother her. I was amazed...
I walked in the door and told my parents "Your son just got digits and didn't even ask! WHOOOOO!" I called and told my sister, and then called this lovely girl...
In May, during a Wednesday night service (once in a while, we have a gym night, that was one of 'em) I asked her quietly to marry me. I didn't have any money, no way to get a ring, but I asked... She said yes. I told her I had a dream... A dream of me standing in the front yard of a nice house out in the country, couple of nice but not ridiculously expensive cars in the driveway, a few kids running around the yard... I said "Oh, but wait, what is this dream missing? Oh yes... You standing hand-in-hand with me, with a diamond ring and a wedding band on your finger. Will you marry me?" I was almost shocked she said yes. I've seen proposals go that well, and I've seen them go bad enough that the boy had a handprint upside his face.
Well, here we are in late July, wedding date is set, I'm about to get my G.E.D. so I can get a job and get a ring and finalize the wedding plans. (Ain't it sad that I can't get a diploma just because I was homeschooled? I loved it, and I wouldn't change that if I could do it over again)
Why am I quitting? I've been told "It has to be for you." Well, it can't just be about me. She's the love of a lifetime, one of a kind, perfection in my eyes.
She's addicted to caffeine, and walking the line between safety and being a diabetic, just like I once did. I'm walking the line between having a long life and dying a horrible death from cancer.
I do want to quit, because although I don't fear death itself, I would rather not die, especially not in a hospital bed with half my face missing.
But, it's not just about me.
I have three fears in life, and that's all.
I've been singin' since I was just a little boy, and if I lost part of my face, there goes that. I've been told I'm brilliant as a musician. I play guitar, electric bass, a little bit of keyboard and a very little bit of fiddle. I'm about to learn some more thanks to her family. But, I've thought about it... I actually believe myself to be a good lyricist. What's the point of writing the lyrics and some music to go with 'em if you can't speak your own emotions through those words?
Fear number two:
Losing my parents or my sister... No, I don't believe it's a permanent loss, but still... I dread the day I see my parents go, and I pray daily that my sis and I live a long, healthy life, but I hope that when I die, she'll still be here, because I know she'll deal with losing me better than I'd deal with the opposite situation.
Fear number three:
Being cut off in any way (including death) from my one true love.
She's afraid... So much so that she almost cried in my arms yesterday...
Well, brothers, she is my biggest reason for quitting other than the fact that I just plain don't want this shit (pardon my french) to put me in a box.
I told her yesterday, we both have to quit doing the stupid things we're doing. She's already been told that the caffeine and sugar going through her like that will put an end to her. I said "Baby, know this. I wouldn't make it six months if you were gone. I've thought about it. Marriage is at the doorstep, and children are a moon away from marriage if you look at the big picture. This might not kill me this year, or the next, or in the next ten, but it will take me someday. That caffeine and sugar might not take you now, but it will someday. I can't leave our children without a father, or without a mother, or even worse, without either. We've gotta kick this crap loose and get healthy." She agrees.
I told her "Whether God likes it or not, if I leave this earth without you, I will be the only man to ever weep on his way to heaven."
Now you know why I'm quitting.
Or do you?
Yesterday as I was going through my nightly ritual of pick the remaining dip from my teeth, brush, floss, rinse, and mouthwash, I noticed something... I noticed my usual spotting of sores on my throat. Big deal, I'd seen that before, especially when I was chewing Redman daily... Then I noticed a new one... A small white spot on my lip. "OH ************ SON OF A *****! Hell no..."
I don't think it's cancerous. Do I know for sure? No. Can I have it checked? Well, I'm not employed, so no insurance from an employer. I just lost my medicaid, for reasons I'm too angry to discuss at the moment. So, no... Not at the moment.
I'm kind of in limbo, brothers. I'm prepared to fight like a tiger on crack if it winds up being or becoming what it could be... It's not "I won't go out without a fight." It's "I won't go out period. I'm not done here, and no disease is going to just beat me. If it comes down to it, if it's cancer, I will show it a new meaning to getting your ass whupped."
Granted, I have my stressors... Her family (If anybody wants to know, I'll explain), my family (same as above, if you want to know, ask), and a couple of my idiot friends, who I'm going to ask advice on later...
I'm the martyr. I'm the guy who, even if it hurt me, would always sacrifice to help someone in need. I prevented a few suicides and incredibly stupid moves, and helped after somebody did the latter and needed help. I lost more sleep, more time, and experienced more stress than your average working man does in a month, all in a few short hours every once in a while. So, I have to help those couple idiots, because I owe them.
However, now is for my family, now is for my future wife, and now is for me.
Help me, brothers. I can't afford to fail this time.
So, after reading the above, how bad is this spot in my lip?
My baby girl's brother can get me a job once I have my G.E.D. so about four to five months is all the longer I'll have to wait for insurance, but... I'm worried. I'm not afraid, because I will NOT let cancer kill me if that battle comes up... I just want to know if the fight is coming before it gets here.
Once again, sorry for the incredibly long introduction, but...
Here I am, in all my slavery to this plant and the chemicals within it...
Tomorrow begins the quit.
I've been told by more than one person "Hate the tobacco." As odd as it may seem, I can't. It was my choice to start. It wasn't an ad, or somebody offering it to me... It was "Hmm... I wonder if that's actually any good?" So, I kind of have to hate my decision. Can't hate myself, won't hate the plant... Just a plant, and it was my choice... All I can really hate is my decision. I'm not miserable over it, I just wish I hadn't.
So, where shall I begin, other than handing my cans to a friend of mine who doesn't want to quit? (Waste not, want not. Even with this, I can't just pitch it. He's broke, and would rather steal a can in broad daylight than quit. Better he gets one from me than a young man with a chance at a good life winding up in jail, where I already know his life will begin its downfall)
Where shall I begin?
My fiancee is a support network, but if I call her after about 11:15, her dad will have a few words for me next time I see him... and I learned before, I can't do this one alone.
