Hi, my name is Broccoli Saurus and I’m an addict.
I never in life thought I’d type that. Well, either part really. Broccoli saurus is a ridiculous screen name for sure, but not nearly as ridiculous as being controlled by a little round can of temporary pleasure and long term death. When I really think about the ridiculousness of my foray into the dipping world, it floors me. When you’re fixed in the addiction cycle, it’s not so bad. Can a day, can and a half a day is about where I lived, and those numbers are manageable. But I dipped for about 10 years. I’m not entirely sure how long, but it’s about that. Even at a can a day, that’s $16,425. But even that’s not enough for me, so I quantified it in different ways. A can of dip is .9” tall. At 3,650 cans stacked on top of each other, they reach 275’ tall, just almost as tall as Chicago’s metropolitan correctional center:
That right there hits home. That gives me a quantifiable amount into my insanity. And why? I was 29ish with I started dipping. I was just fine without it for half my adult life. Why did I decide that I needed this death can to survive? Well….it all started with a dare.
I work in a manufacturing plant. I’m a supervisor, and I work with a lot of hard men. Hunters, fishermen, ex cons, loud, boisterous, crazy guys that work like dogs and play even harder. I had smoked a cigar now and then, but at that time, it was just social…I had been offered a cigarette or a pinch of dip on numerous occasions, but always turned it down. I’m not sure what changed other than the fact that the guy dared me to do it. A guy that had taken a very gross dare from me a couple weeks back. Well, I took him up on his dare like Marty McFly in Back to the Future and put in a dip that started a love affair with Copenhagen Wintergreen that would last 10 years. One dip led to another bummed dip the next day, and then I was buying a can of my own, and then I was up to a can a day.
I wasn’t a ninja dipper. If I was awake, I was dipping. I put my first dip in during my morning shower and spit it out to brush my teeth, then tossed another dip in. After eating, before eating, during workouts, during times with my daughter, whatever….there was a dip in. I also gutted nearly all of the spit. I’d spit the first couple times on a fresh dip when it was strongest, then gut the rest. I was truly addicted to the stuff.
I’ve tried to quit numerous times. I was formerly part of KTC Dumpster Fire Oct ’16 group. I was a very big presence in the group for a while, and then I dropped off. I had my text buddies trying to track me down daily, and I was out of it. Then I smoked a cigar, came on KTC to brag about it, and how I was cured, and I wouldn’t go back to dipping, but it was a cave, so I left. I’m not proud of that at all, and in truth, I was a pompous asshole and prick. I regret that move and the issues it caused between my former quit brothers/sister BSR, Medic, Edward, Brown, Cuse, bdsqueeze, flip. I had a lot of making up to do when I came back to KTC and I knew it.
So after the inevitable return to the can after a few days of cigars after being cured, I knew I still needed to quit. I was up to a can and a half a day. My gums stayed sore. I had a bad cough. My throat hurt often. And somehow, I knew in my heart that all this was somehow dip related. In any event, dip was hurting me to some degree, and I had to take care of the known problems first. That’s just how my mind works. So I tried quitting on my own a couple times. The most ridiculous time of quitting came after listening to an old timer at work. He told me about the time he caught his kids smoking and made them smoke the whole pack so they’d get sick as a dog and never want to touch it again. He said, I bet that’d work for dip too.
So I planned this badass excursion into solo quitting on a Saturday morning, so I could get over the sickness in time for work Monday. My tools were a fresh, unopened can of cope and a liter sized bottle of water. I sat on the patio and ate an entire can of dip. Gagging and spitting, vomiting and retching, but I managed to swallow and eat the entire can minus whatever got thrown up and/or ended up in the water bottle. I was sick as a dog. And I stayed quit for about a week. But then to my amazement, I found myself back in a C-store buying a can of dip a few days later.
Case in point: This shit is powerful and we are addicts. The same reason that some people can have a drug overdose, get their stomachs pumped, and then be back doing drugs the next week is the same reason we have difficulty quitting nicotine. Did you read that? WE ARE ADDICTS! For a whole lot of people, it’s going to take a lot more than eating a can of dip, or quitting because a wife or girlfriend or kid or preacher or friends tell you to. You’ve got to want it deep down, and got to want to do something about it. And that’s exactly where I was. My gums were sore, I had spots in my mouth, my tongue stayed tender, I had stomach issues, sore throat, that deep cough. I was tired of the money spent, I was tired of my daughters questions about that “dirt stuff”. My coworker that had initially dared me way back 10 years ago quit on his own cold turkey 6 weeks before. I wanted that too. I wanted to be free of it, and the only thing that had ever worked was KTC. So humbly, I made my way back to take my lashings.
KTC despises cavers. That’s what I was. I was a quit failure. I was larger than life my first time here too, so people remembered me. And I was a little bitch that caved and had the audacity to come in and defend my nicotine usage because of the delivery system. I got beat up initially when I came back. But I put my head down, answered all the questions that others had for me. I posted roll. I got involved. I got questioned by other people from time to time. I still do actually. There are still those here at KTC that don’t trust me or like me. I can live with that. I know what I am, who I am, and what I can do. I’ve made excellent friends here. Brian, Sean, Lee, Jordan, KT, DKAJW, plus Kdip, Casus, David, Gregor, Fish, Hunter, Clemte, Batdad, Dragon, Samrs, Red…and others that I talk with daily in some form or fashion. One day at a time.
KTC is a combination of things. It won’t quit for you. You have to do that for yourself. You have to want this worse than you’ve wanted anything before. KTC gives you tools on top of that desire to succeed. That’s what I didn’t understand the first time. When I had the underlying desire and coupled that with words of wisdom here, accountability, and forming of friendships, I could finally kick tobacco in the taint and take my life back. If you’re reading this and are on the fence about quitting, it’s not time yet. That’s right, I said it. That’s an unpopular opinion here, but hear me out on this. If you’re truly ready, you’ve had enough of this, then get involved. Sign up, find your quit group and get involved. Don’t just post and ghost. Be involved with your quit and create those relationships that you fall back on in the tough times. I’m living proof that that’s what it takes. Be humble. And realize that you’re an addict with one bad decision away from a cave.
I went through a really rough first week. Had bad reflux and an intermittent sore throat all the way to day 90 or so. Had dip dreams, consumed a ton of gum, seeds, fake dip, etc. And it was worth every damn bit of it, because today I can say I’m nicotine free. I will no longer be a slave to the can. Thank you to every bad ass quitter on this site. We all make this what it is, and it’s an awesome place of quit that collectively throws up middle fingers at tobacco companies daily. I’m so proud to be a part of it!
I QUIT WITH YOU TODAY. – Bryan