I pride myself on being intelligent and resourceful…….you’ll note I did not say smart. A smart person wouldn’t allow this addiction to happen to them. A hundred days can seem like forever and the blink of an eye at the same time.
I grew up in a household of “users”, dippers, chewers, smokers of all things tobacco where it was condoned as a social ritual partaken in following dinner with family (but never in the house). The pipes and cigars of my fathers and uncles generation (WWII Vets) gave way to the cigarettes of my older brothers and the Vietnam era. I was just old enough to have a draft card (1E – still in high school) when Nixon cancelled the draft. My brothers were 10 and 11 years older than me and they were my heroes. They all used.
As a “jock” playing football, baseball, and shooting competitively; smoking was out of the question on all but date nights and ALL my coaches chewed…..at 14 I took my first pinch of Cope and so began a 43 year affair with the nic bitch. She was there singing her siren’s song in my ear all through high school, undergrad and grad school. She was there in my lip every game, every match, almost every moment. She kept me company late nights studying, cleaning up bars and working on dairy farms to buy text books, fending off hunger, keeping me “focused and alert” to get through school……..keeping me addicted. I studied the sciences and knew the risks but ignored the consequences….she whispered “it won’t happen to you”….I listened.
Marlboro reds, Copenhagen, and the occasional nicotine patch were my favored delivery devices, designed and produced to enslave a population and keep a stream of dollars heading into the corporate coffers of companies that were built on the morbidity and mortality of the addicted. I have witnessed her wrath on my family and on me. I have avoided the cancer (so far) which has claimed my sisters, my mother, and am now watching it kill one of my brothers. I haven’t escaped totally though……..I have 25 crowns and 3 dental implants to thank her for.
I came to KTC much like most of us……sick of what I had become, the excuses, all the misery inflicted on those I loved and myself. I was the addict who couldn’t face the truth of my own demon until I looked in the mirror on April 13, 2015 and something happened. I looked at myself while shaving around that cat turd in my face and heard my 12 year old daughter say “that shit isn’t you Daddy”.
I had been “lurking” around KTC for a few weeks on and off, reading and considering taking a slash of the Kool-Aid as LJT would say. I flushed the remainders that day, logged in and drank deep never to look back. I swear I should be the FN Fog poster child…….it lasted most of the first 30 days but I believe my brain and body have begun to reprogram finally. I know in my heart and soul that I am one dip away from being that 2 can a day person that still lives inside me and will never be “cured”.
I owe debts of gratitude to a long list of BAQ’s. LJT, aka the turd hurdler; who took the time to shepherd me along the first few posts, checked on me during road trips and generally has been July’s rock. To ChickDip for your insight and chatting with me when I was in the throes of a nic jones and reminding me of the correct day of my quit (told you the fog was severe). To Robb Wolf for all the entertainment, making me laugh out loud, and for the grammatically correct use of “fuckery”, you are my daughter’s favorite (she’s a My Little Pony fan). KevinSLC and Twamdoe – dinner and beers were great and our group’s first meet and greet, we will do it again soon. Keddy – your HOF speech has stuck with me since day 15. Remshot, NOLAQ and so many of the seniors whose words I read and continue to read. And finally, to each and every Jackal in June for holding me accountable every day. WUPP (copyright Robb Wolf).
I quit with you today.
MarkinCO Pueblo CO