Quit of a Prideful Prick

I DIDN’T have a strong reason to quit. No existential push. No deathly scare. No loved one’s tears. I quit on a prideful assumption that I was right about something I know little about.

I have self-diagnosed ADHD. I then self-prescribed myself a cure. This time it was L-Methylfolate. Maybe it helped, maybe it’s placebo—not the goddamn point.

I’m a PRIDEFUL person. Growing up as that straight-A Gifted-Kid™ caught in a feedback loop of praise and study which led to a pseudo-personality of me just showcasing what I know. Because I identified my intelligence with my worth.

I brought that bullshit into KTC, like I have the fucking cure and I’m just here to prove it.

Short answer: I’m not the shit, I’m a steamy shit and a mess. I didn’t find some cure. The quit was still rough and I needed KTC.

Shout out to my Quit-Brothers: Squ!nty, EV, and CanDoIt for putting up with me. Having my existential breakdown of starting Nic when I was 19 and now quitting at 29 wondering who I’ll be at the end of this. It was a core part of how I managed my emotions, now what? Raw dog life?

Yup.

Quit is more than the physical symptoms. If it weren’t for them, I’d have failed early in my quit.

It wasn’t a slap in the face transformation and I’m not prideful anymore. I’m still working through that and I fought with myself to make this not just be a scientific deep dive on all aspects of quit. There are resources for that, this isn’t the place for it.

But a great first step for my pride was to humble myself and to submit to the process of KTC.

Submission is especially submission if you don’t fully agree with it. Otherwise, it’s just circle jerking.

My advice for new quitters: throw yourselves at the process. Add to it, contribute, pick up your cross and bear it. I can’t remember how many times I dragged myself back to the Discord thinking, “No other idiot is going to keep up CopyRoll”. Fully engage like you’re fighting for your quit every damn day, and I have zero doubts you’ll make it to your 100. But don’t burn yourself out on the engagement—have a life outside of it. Just adopt some responsibility.

At my 100 I can say confidently, it’s not some “magical” replacement of personality and I’m not wholly a new person. I feel like a breath of emotion has been injected back in me—mostly shame and anger. These emotions will have to be handled with masculine respect, and I’ve got a decade of practice to catch up on instead of finding my normal escape of nicotine.

But I don’t have to do it alone. I’m not a lone ship at sea. There are other sailors that know what I’m going through. Their witness on my quit is enough to push me through the hard times. They tell me, 100 is not the end and there will be hard times ahead.

I won’t be facing it alone.

NOTE: This piece written by KillTheCan.org member Konrad