Evolution of Quit

[Lipi]

On day 100 I wanted to get a speech up, and then remembered that I had actually finished a speech  67 days earlier. I would just have to find it on my computer! Why did I already have a speech? Well, you see, back on Day 33 I already knew everything. I knew more than all the veteran quitters who had come before me, I knew I would be a “Centurion”, and I knew how and why. Nothing was going to change between then and now. 

Well, I found the speech that I wrote on Day 33. It was titled "Took What I Needed, Left the Rest". You could tell it written by an addict, no surprise there. But what I really found was a manifesto, railing against everything- the veteran quitters, the B+A method, and especially those that bought into the system. An entire section of the speech was dedicated to explaining why MY quit was harder than the quits of dudes who hadn't been chewing long enough or hard enough for me to respect their quit. 

Back on Day 33, I had an appreciation for the few things that I thought were good about the site. The Tom and Jenny Kern story caused me to imagine my own daughter on my own death bed, wailing "Don't Go, Dad", and it hit me hard. That alone was enough to carry me for a while. And I liked posting scroll. But the main gist of that speech was that I was sick of the nagging by older quits. I was sick of the "group-think". I was tired of the policing of other members, the bitching about posting scroll, the endless speeches about accountability. I didn't like the lingo. I wrote that I was "drifting away from the people I met on the site" and I didn't care. I didn't need anyone. I was doing this more or less by myself. 

I had my anger. I had my stubbornness. I knew I would make it. Sometimes I thought I would make it just to spite the idiots that populated the site. They didn't know shit. They were just dicks. They didn't get me. They didn't get that, "I will never drink the Kool-Aid". I don't follow anyone. I am a man. I own my own business. I have a family. I am not a child. I am smarter than you. I am special. A special butterfly. 

Then, at some point, and I don't exactly know when, something happened. It was gradual. I started paying attention. I started posting more. I started talking more to some old guys. I started talking to some new guys. I recognized my own childish bullshit in the new guys. With a few of them I took a shot and tried to help. I saw that almost every addict thinks they are special. Lots of new guys think they are smarter than the rest. Did I sound that lame during week 1? I started repeating things like "drink lots of water, and get some exercise. It gets better." You know,  cliches that old dudes say. Boring stuff, kook stuff. The thing is, the stuff you learn here works. I was starting to get it. The old dudes aren't assholes on a power trip. They are quitters. They know what they are talking about. They just have no sympathy for special butterflies. 

Then I really started to participate. I got to know some guys on the site. I started to get pissed at guys who weren't buying in. I started to like some of the dudes who I thought I hated. I started to respect guys I thought were fucking kooks. I like being a dick to people who think they are above the system. I like fucking with special butterflies; it's for their own good. I like being part of this group. That Fucking Tool who wrote that speech on Day 33 really bugs me. Why? Because it really wasn't that long ago. Because I still have some things in common with that dude. But I have grown up a lot since then, and know I'm not finished yet. I was a child when I started chewing. In many ways I was that same child when I quit chewing. I have never faced the world without that pathetic, disgusting cancer-causing shit that we all mistakenly thought was a "crutch"; it's really a giant fucking anchor. 

Imagine... I could have done this extraordinary thing, "Quitting", so many years ago. What a shithead. But eventually that shithead found this site. The same asshole did his best to ignore everyone that gave him advice. But the quitters here are hard. If you stick around long enough, they will wear you down. They saved me. Why did they succeed where my family, my wife, and my friends all failed? I have no idea. But there are a few things I do know for sure. Quitting saved my life, and I'll never dip again.