He takes a long drag from the vape, eyes staring at nothing, the faint crackle of the coil the only sound in the room. Tobacco chemical vapor hits his throat, then dissipates like a lie he tells himself over and over: just this once. But it’s never just once.
He knows. He’s read the books, watched the videos, even sat through meditations. He knows the mechanism. He can map the behavior, chart the craving cycle, even quote the neuroscience. There’s no illusion of ignorance.
But knowing isn’t seeing.
And certainly not facing.
Every pull is a deflection—away from a presence he can’t quite tolerate. Not pain exactly. More like pressure. A restless hum behind the ribs. A kind of spiritual claustrophobia. A sense that if he doesn’t hit the vape, something awful will happen.
He’s never looked directly at what that “something” is. He can’t.
Because under the buzz, under the shaky hands and the anxiety wrapped in smoke, there’s something deeper.
It isn’t about nicotine.
It’s about what’s left when the smoke clears.
And right now, that feels unbearable.
He’s tried to quit. Not because he wants to be healthy. That would be easy. No—he wants to stop running. But every time the vape is out of reach, the edge returns. The monster under the bed stirs. The one without a face. Just a weight. Just a knowing that some wound never healed, and sitting with it means letting it break open—raw, wild, and unfixable.
So he vapes. Because distraction is easier than disintegration.
And yet…
Even as he inhales, there’s a moment of clarity. A flicker. This isn’t helping. It never really did. It only pushes the feeling deeper, where it festers and whispers, you’re weak.
He exhales slowly, watching the cloud fade into the air. The sensation of it is already gone. The discomfort is not.
Still, he doesn’t put it down. Not yet.
But something is shifting—not in victory, but in honesty.
He’s no longer pretending he’s in control.
He’s not free.
But now he sees the bars.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the first crack in the armor.
Not in quitting.
But in no longer lying about why he doesn’t.
For more pointers and suggestions, check out this link to Vince-bot using the website as its knowledge base.
https://chatgpt.com/g/g-67a6d7d9cb548...
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Dang, Vince, another truth bomb. Nails my addictive behavior.
Spiritual claustrophobia yes!! That’s a wonderful description thank you.