Diesel2112, we can get into a big debate about how posting daily will or won't help you avoid caving... to each his own. Congrats on 324 days Quit. As to why I quit: I dipped openly in front of those that I knew didn't matter or wouldn't care. I hid it from my parents, brother, wife and wife's family. My wife caught me a few times over the last 6 1/2 years we've been married. We'd argue about it and she'd go to bed crying worrying about losing me (lost her grandfather who was a smoker to cancer) and all I'd do was try to do better at hiding it. I finally realized I was serious about quitting when my wife would catch me and I'd just blow it off. Basically the arguing stopped and the distance between us grew. I have a very addictive personality that manifests itself in various aspects of my life. That addictive personality is now what is driving me to stay Quit.
I am interested in your way of quit.
Hell. We all are.
I would give my left nut to know to not have to constantly wage this war. Unfortunately, I know my enemy won't let me off that easily. She waits. She knows when I'm strong and she doesn't attack. She's not stupid. She waits until I'm drunk, or until I'm stressed out, or when the whole world is collapsing in on me and I don't feel I'm worth the air I breathe.
She waits.
You know how I know?
Because she's done this before. Many times.
There were the times I did it on my own (horrible failures). There were the times I argued Nicorette would be my savior this time (horrible failures). There was that time my wife and baby son jumped up and down in the bathroom as I dumped a can only to fail a couple days later.
Then there was that first time I used this program. I posted roll the first 100 days. I bitched when times were rough (after all, my mom was passing from cancer). I did it, and got to 100.
And then I faded. Fast.
I stopped posting because I didn't understand quit as a battle I'd always fight. I thought it was a war I had already won. I stopped thinking about being quit and all of the tools I learned here faded. It took some time (nearly 2 and half years later) but they were not there when I needed them.
I bummed a chew from a friend. And it was over. 4 months later, it was like I never quit before.
The thing was I felt like I needed it to be whole when I was stopped. I always assumed I was special and needed something to compensate for my lack of nicotine. When I started back, nothing changed. I still felt shitty about myself (but even more for now I had this stupid addiction to deal with). I still never felt whole.
I came back here and it took me a little while to realize that quit is a state of being. I can be "using". I can be "not using". I can be "quit". I started this process because I didn't want to use. "Not using" had failed me multiple times in the past. I'm guessing that "quit" might just be the answer, but we'll see.
I come here to tarnish the name of tobacco every morning. I don't idolize. Hell. I forget what it tastes like and I abhor the companies that sell it. I come here not because I "have to" most days (95% are good, good days where it is not a thought), but because of those days I need my weapon to perform properly shall I need it. I come here because I don't want to leave one damn thing to chance in my quit. I plan to be quit. I work to be quit. I am quit.
If you have a better way than that, well...I don't think you can.
You can do this. Don't be afraid to unleash your true capabilities instead of just getting by. If you want something, it is your job to take it.
The Little Blue Engine
The little blue engine looked up at the hill.
His light was weak, his whistle was shrill.
He was tired and small, and the hill was tall,
And his face blushed red as he softly said,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
So he started up with a chug and a strain,
And he puffed and pulled with might and main.
And slowly he climbed, a foot at a time,
And his engine coughed as he whispered soft,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
With a squeak and a creak and a toot and a sigh,
With an extra hope and an extra try,
He would not stop — now he neared the top —
And strong and proud he cried out loud,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!”
He was almost there, when — CRASH! SMASH! BASH!
He slid down and mashed into engine hash
On the rocks belowÂ… which goes to show
If the track is tough and the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just ainÂ’t enough!
