Popular Post KD2 Posted December 14, 2020 Popular Post Share Posted December 14, 2020 Here I am sitting where I had dipped for so long writing a triumphant remembrance of my former identity. That old me was born at the age of fourteen in the movie theater watching Romeo and Juliet when nicotine entered my body via cherry skoal. Looking back, I was already addicted by the time 10th grade health class came along where they show you pictures of busted up jaws and cancer. Nicotine was entertainment at that early stage. Whatever you call it, for the next twenty-three years I fed my addiction. We all have similar stories for those years of using. A Kodiak can pyramid donned my college dorm room. Sneaking uppers in all my jobs was second nature. Stopping for a couple months just to start again for graduate school. Smoking cigs when I was outside the US where dip was impossible to find. Chewing Nicorette for a year thinking I would magically stop one day. It wasn’t until August 31, 2019 I Quit. I still have a picture on the background of my phone of me and my two kids out for breakfast on this first day of my new identity. Their innocence coupled with my decades long out of control addiction fueled struggle is captured in an instance. That old me prior to that photo only wanted to be alone. I justified that was normal. I lacked confidence because I knew I could not control myself or make good decisions about my own body and health. How then could I exude onto others my love, or even that I had my shit together? Especially to my wife and family, but also professionally. Even one-hundred days into my quit, I abstained from publishing a speech because I did not think I had accomplished enough to write about in a ceremonial carved in stone document. I was taking my quit one day at a time still with little confidence. I thought a year would be more meaningful. That year came and I saw failure in dudes quits all around me. Still no speech seemed warranted as I rather channeled rage at the acceptance of such behavior. Left that toxic environment to our clean walls. Now in QD for a hundred days, my day 473, I proudly bind my quit into yours to strengthen our communal wall of quit that nicotine will never breach. Unlike the love story that started this journey for me, my ‘star crossed lover’ died on account of my own hands, never to be kissed again. 14 2 4 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts