I'm now 40 years old with 2 small kids at home and have been addicted to chew for 22 years. It started off as a casual treat with friends, but once I bought my first tin, I was hooked. Through the years it spiraled into an intense addiction that definitely controlled my life. I can remember early on that maybe a tin a week would be fine, no big deal. For the last 10 years, I have been a tin-checker, borderline on an obsessive compulsive disorder. "OK, I have a half tin and it's 5PM, I won't make it, I need to pick up a tin before I go home". Does that sound familiar? Becoming a slave to this beast was not immediate, but unfortunately inevitable, for me at least. The days of going to gas stations at 11PM for a tin, or buying 2 at a time are hopefully over. There was this time that my wife tried an experiment on me. She hid my tin...nice. I was doing my normal pocket check before leaving the house; wallet, phone, keys, chew...chew? As I'm trying not to panic, I'm backtracking the last 8 hours in my mind, did I leave it in the bathroom, is it in my bed, the garage, garbage can, did I finish it. My wife was watching me slowly starting to boil. She asks what's wrong. I can't find something. What? It's got to be around here somewhere. What are you looking for? My f*^ing tin, where the f*$ is it, God damn it....And you see where that went. Sound like a familiar shameful chew story. So sad to turn into this person.
Over the last 22 years, I have quit about 6 times a year at least. Ranging from 1 month, 2 weeks, 1 day or 2 hours etc. I've tried everything; zyban, welbutrin, nicotine patches, fake chew etc. I went back to the doctor in October of this year and asked for help. She gave me Chantix, yeah I know. Screw it, I'll try it. I took it for about 3 weeks prior to the final dip. I hated Chantix the entire time I was on it. I constantly felt nauseous, whether food in my stomach or not. I also coupled the Chantix with a big patch on 1 arm in the morning and 1 at night. Yes, 2 per day, I know it's sad. I kicked the Chantix after about 3 months and still on 2 patches a day. Eventually I will ween myself from the patches. Nonetheless, I have quit for the longest stretch in 22 years, I've gone 80 days.
I don't know why I'm sharing this stuff on a post, but for some reason I feel I need to. This drug has been my buddy through my 20's and 30's and sadly quitting is the toughest thing I've done in my life. That alone is so f$%ed up. What a bitch I am. Now, the thing I'm realizing, is that now I have these weird feelings about life and life situations. When I was happy, I would chew. When I was sad, I used to chew. Now what do I do, I have to fill the gap with something.
Sorry for the rant, but at the very minimum, I hope somehow this post will reinforce to all how strong a drug we are dealing with. Keep up the good fight and do your part to save a life and help someone else quit. Peace to all over the Holidays.
