7 years
x
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I smoke. Not weed, not nicotine, not vape. I smoke tea. It sounds odd, useless, wanna be edgy I know. But something about smoking tea and the feeling of the smoke that just feels right. I hate nicotine, terrified of weed (anxiety and has a history of making family even more anxious) and vape is just glorified nicotine. I know smoking anything is s*** for your lungs.

It’s just the burn of the smoke in my lungs. The slight numbing feeling. It somehow brings me back to a stillness. The smell of the tea burning. Watching the smoke fade out from sight. It’s captivating, calming, centering.
It’s that I’m guilty for lying to my albeit s***** family, breaking a promise to them and myself. I promised I would never smoke, but now I do, randomly when I can get away with it.

I started because of a friend who I later realized was toxic. I kept on doing it because it eased me into thinking “she didn’t start this, I accepted it. And I’m continuing because of bad reasons but my own reasons. I’m in control.”

All I know is it’s not connected to anyone anymore, now it’s just about the smoke. And I broke the only promise I truly believed I’d keep.

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