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How I Quit Chewing Tobacco

How I Finally Quit Dipping After 18 Years of Nicotine-Fueled Delusion

The Nicotine Romance Begins

I’ve been using tobacco since I was 17. First cigars (because that felt sophisticated), then cigarettes (because, obviously), and finally dip (because I lost all sense of dignity).

Since I was 18, dip became my constant companion. Morning, noon, night—if I was awake, I had a fat pinch in my lip. It was my security blanket, my appetite suppressant, my post-meal dessert, my driving buddy. It made everything “better.”

The Gross Reality

Let’s be clear—it was disgusting. My breath? Trash. My mouth? Sore. My desire to kiss my wife? Nonexistent out of courtesy. I always had a spit bottle nearby (and yes, I reused it like the degenerate I was). You could hear my slurred speech and see my mouth constantly working that wad of poison. Classy.

Lucky, Not Smart

Shockingly, I’ve had zero health scares or dental issues. But don’t let that fool you—this isn’t a success story, it’s a cautionary tale. I dipped 1–2 cans a day since 2005. Started the night before I joined the Navy (drunk, of course). When I got out of bootcamp, everyone dipped. It was basically a rite of passage.

I tried smoking too, but studying and smoking didn’t mix. Dip? You could sneak it anywhere. I used to proudly tell myself, “You can hardly tell I’ve got a dip in.”

Narrator: You could definitely tell.

100 Failed Quits

I’ve tried to quit more times than I can count. Gum. Patches. Lozenges. Vaping. Cold turkey. Punching walls. You name it.

I once made it 3–4 months nicotine-free… until drunk Drew came out and decided he deserved a celebratory pinch. That relapse spiral? Oh, it’s real.

Movies were another weakness. I’d dip in the theater like a monster, so now anytime I think about going to the movies, my brain screams, “Buy a can!”

Austin

In 2020, I met a mentor named Austin. He had cancer—colon and liver. And he believed, without a doubt, that dipping and gutting it caused it.

(Gutting, by the way, is when you swallow the dip instead of spitting it out. Yes, people do that. No, I wasn’t one of them.)

Austin had just come back from long-term disability when I started working with him. Fighting cancer and working full-time? Not exactly a sustainable combo. But he came back anyway. We only ever met over Zoom—never in person—but we clicked. He was a few years older than me, smart as hell, and always encouraging.

Even after I left Ally Bank, we kept in touch. In 2024, I went head-down building The Purple Piggy Bank and filled him in. He was stoked. Had ideas. Talked exit strategies. He believed in it. I got busy and didn’t reach out for a bit.

Then I texted him.

His sister replied. He had passed.

I was gutted.

Tried to quit right then, but I wasn’t ready. Even death wasn’t enough. That’s how powerful this addiction is.

The Truth About Quitting

Here’s what I’ve learned: quitting is 100% impossible until you’re ready.

Not kinda ready. Not “it’d be nice” ready. I mean fed-up, rock-bottom, disgusted-with-yourself ready.

Patches Are Trash

Unpopular opinion: nicotine patches are a scam. Maybe even created by Big Tobacco to keep you addicted but feeling like you’re doing something about it.

They just delay the crash and make you even more helpless when the patch or gum runs out. Also: those nightmares? Horrifying.

Plan Your Escape

You need a quiet weekend. No big events, no social obligations. Just you, your withdrawals, and some creature comforts.

You’ll need:

  • At least 48 hours of zero responsibilities
  • Comfort food and hydration
  • A distraction plan

Expect the worst for 2 days. Cravings will be insane. You might feel like your skin is vibrating. That’s normal. It passes.

My Quit Kit

Here’s what helped me survive:

Final Thoughts

Quitting sucks. It really does. But it’s also the best thing I’ve done for myself in years.

If you’re thinking about quitting, don’t wait until it’s convenient. It never is. Get disgusted enough, clear your calendar, stock up your quit kit, and go full cold turkey.

You won’t regret quitting. You’ll only regret how long it took you to try.