Unexpected Day #1

[Viking]

Sorry for your loss, HG. Hugs from the Twin Cities.

[rdad]

Sorry for your loss Harvestgirl. You are such a badass quitter. Your involvement here has made my quit stronger. Prayers up for you and your family. Stay strong.

[Steakbomb18]

My condolences HG. I hope you know that in your short 137 days, you've built a legion of followers to fuel you with prayers and support. Something tells me that what you've built these past 4+ months will help your personal resolve and add some order to chaos. Keep holding the fort, its worth everything

[Backwoods901]

I will be praying for your family harvest girl.

[Nomore1959]

Such sad news. Prayers for you and your family.

[harvestgirl]

Day 137

Life isn't fucking fair.

My cousin died on the night of my 135th. Details at first were sketchy. Work accident. Impalement. Bled to death. I was in total shock. Raymond was the funniest happiest hardest working kindest family man. He left a wife and four kids. It's not only devastating to my family, but to the whole community. I'm not sure if anyone in the area didn't know him.

I found out more tonight and it was let out it was a tractor accident.

A tractor accident. All that shock comes back at those words. It hits too close to home. My life boils down to tractors and combines and it's just a brutal reminder that shit can go horribly wrong terrifyingly fast.

Autopilot mode takes over during these times.

My "sleep" schedule has been so incredibly jacked that it's hard to remember what day of the week it is or what day things took place on. I think part of my new autopilot mode is my quit date. I can't tell you what the date is, but I can tell you the quit date. Sometimes it feels like I have BQ and AQ time: before quit and after quit.

In Albert Lea, MN right now so I can wait for my alarm to go off (not that I slept much anyways) and continue on my way home to WI for awhile.

[Law1358]

Day 135

Maybe this post is a little deeper than what most would prefer. I don't care. I stand by the comment I've made numerous times- if this post helps just one person, then my fight is worth it.

The past few weeks have been hard. It's been like being back in the early days of the fog.
Just when I think my brain has adjusted to not having nic, and getting readjusted to a medication adjustment, etc., the nic bitch just fucking laughs in my face and rears her ugly head.

My insomnia has never been worse- it's like my brain has decided that sleep isn't required. My bipolar, while not "worse" has been creeping slowly towards the manic spectrum because of the lack of sleep- which turns it into a cyclic battle. I can't hold attention to anything. I eat right, I exercise, only coffee in the morning. It gets frustrating when people ask "oh, have you tried this?" "This worked great for my friend!" I love that people care, but this isn't a new thing for me; I've been like this since I was a teenager. Yes, I am under medical attention. No, I don't have any suicidal ideologies.

Every day it never fails to amaze me what I learn about my body and my brain now that I don't have the crutch of any nicotine stimulant to mask my brain. Bipolar/PTSD/depression/OCD, anxiety, etc. physically damages the neuro pathways of your brain. Nicotine is a brilliantly evil masquerade ball. The physical damage to my brain has been coming out in full force. Because I'm treatment resistant (meaning I don't respond well to many forms of medication), my doctor and I have opted for a fairly controversial treatment since early December. It involves injections of ketamine on a regular basis. Ketamine is thought to rebuild those damaged pathways. While it's showing promise for me, it's definitely revealing the extent of damage, and is also very case by case on the dosage and schedule of injections. The side effects are much more gentle than any SSRI/SARI/SNRI that I've been on, but each treatment can be exhausting and nauseating.

I'm not going to cave. I don't want to chew ever again. I LOVE not chewing anymore. I post my promise on here and have a great support of friends that I've made here that text me daily, an amazing GroupMe with my January family, etc. I refuse to cave.

But there's that one little last nic voice whispering in the back of my head, "You felt so much better while chewing.You didn't have these side effects. You felt normal and sane. You can use me as a security blanket."

And I say to her, "Fuck you."

I know you have alot of support, but we are all here for any battle that you may face!! You know Im always praying, and I know that you'll kick whatever obstacle you face right in the Ass!!!

[JGlav]

We are with you for all battles. Nic or others. Stay strong. THere will be a solution for you. Never stop fighting. Proud to quit with you today

[harvestgirl]

Day 135

Maybe this post is a little deeper than what most would prefer. I don't care. I stand by the comment I've made numerous times- if this post helps just one person, then my fight is worth it.

The past few weeks have been hard. It's been like being back in the early days of the fog.
Just when I think my brain has adjusted to not having nic, and getting readjusted to a medication adjustment, etc., the nic bitch just fucking laughs in my face and rears her ugly head.

My insomnia has never been worse- it's like my brain has decided that sleep isn't required. My bipolar, while not "worse" has been creeping slowly towards the manic spectrum because of the lack of sleep- which turns it into a cyclic battle. I can't hold attention to anything. I eat right, I exercise, only coffee in the morning. It gets frustrating when people ask "oh, have you tried this?" "This worked great for my friend!" I love that people care, but this isn't a new thing for me; I've been like this since I was a teenager. Yes, I am under medical attention. No, I don't have any suicidal ideologies.

Every day it never fails to amaze me what I learn about my body and my brain now that I don't have the crutch of any nicotine stimulant to mask my brain. Bipolar/PTSD/depression/OCD, anxiety, etc. physically damages the neuro pathways of your brain. Nicotine is a brilliantly evil masquerade ball. The physical damage to my brain has been coming out in full force. Because I'm treatment resistant (meaning I don't respond well to many forms of medication), my doctor and I have opted for a fairly controversial treatment since early December. It involves injections of ketamine on a regular basis. Ketamine is thought to rebuild those damaged pathways. While it's showing promise for me, it's definitely revealing the extent of damage, and is also very case by case on the dosage and schedule of injections. The side effects are much more gentle than any SSRI/SARI/SNRI that I've been on, but each treatment can be exhausting and nauseating.

I'm not going to cave. I don't want to chew ever again. I LOVE not chewing anymore. I post my promise on here and have a great support of friends that I've made here that text me daily, an amazing GroupMe with my January family, etc. I refuse to cave.

But there's that one little last nic voice whispering in the back of my head, "You felt so much better while chewing.You didn't have these side effects. You felt normal and sane. You can use me as a security blanket."

And I say to her, "Fuck you."

[cessna172]

I'm right behind you Harvestgirl. I quit last night at 7:44 PM. I'll keep an eye on your posts so that I know what I'm in for next. Hang in there.

Day 3 for me bro. stay strong both of yall we are in this to quit dipping not to quit trying

[JGlav]

Sorry for your loss HG. Memories like that never fade though. HAppy Bday too

[Nomore1959]

Wonderful memories Harvest, thanks for sharing. I hope your birthday brings you happy thoughts.

[ChickDip]

Thoughts are with you HG, and plus.
I hope you have a very happy birthday.
:wub:

[rdad]

127 days ago you would have been trying to sooth this sorrow with dip. I'm so glad that's not the case now. You are doing great Harvestgirl. Sorry for your loss.

[harvestgirl]

Day 127

Yesterday I got the news that a distant but very very dear family member passed away.
Ollie was just shy of his 90th birthday and was still called Junior until the day he died.
Jr. was one of the last of that rare old breed. Tough old farmer. Collection of Allis Chalmers.
The kind of man that was always sneaking out and tinkering on his farm until it was time to go into the nursing home.
I remember being very young and going to his farm and I remember him ever so patiently taking me by my hand and kneeling down in the rows of sprouting corn and explaining to me what corn was...what corn is used for....how they plant it. I had to have only been four years old. I remember him pulling up one seedling ever so gently and pointing out the young roots, the start of the leaves, then replanting it, packing the dirt around it. I swear his hands were the size of garbage cans lids.
I hear his name and I can smell the first cutting of hay.

Godspeed my Ollie. Have fun up there tinkering on God's tractors.