
Quitting Won’t Fill the Hole
There’s a pervasive notion that floats around recovery circles—this idea that once you kick your habit, everything will magically fall into place. The clouds will part, the birds will sing, and suddenly life will be worth living again. While it’s true that being addicted to a “thing,” whether substance or act, eventually tallies up consequences that weigh heavy on our souls, the math isn’t quite as simple as “remove addiction, add happiness.”
I’ve watched countless cannabis enthusiasts (and addicts of all stripes) fall into this trap. They sit in circles, eyes gleaming with hope as they declare, “If I could only quit, then everything would be better…” But they’re missing something crucial—their addiction isn’t the source of their discontent; it’s merely a symptom of something deeper.
Addiction, at its core, is a means of dealing with something we cannot name or are desperately trying to avoid. It’s the bandage we slap over a wound without cleaning it first. The cannabis, the alcohol, the gambling, the endless scrolling—these aren’t the disease itself but rather the body’s misguided attempt at self-medication.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth that most recovery programs don’t emphasize enough: if you don’t do the real healing, even if you manage to white-knuckle your way through quitting one addiction, you’ll inevitably find something else to cover that gaping wound. Maybe you’ll trade joints for junk food, or bongs for binge-watching. The face of the addiction changes, but the role it plays remains constant.
Let’s take a deeper dive into this cycle and why simply quitting isn’t enough to truly heal.
First, we must acknowledge that when it comes to pain and addiction, everyone’s journey is unique. What feels like an insurmountable mountain to you might be a speed bump to someone else, and vice versa. There’s no universal scale for suffering, which makes navigating these waters all the more complex.
However, across all these varied experiences, there’s a common trap I’ve seen ensnare countless individuals—what I call the “If/Then Fallacy.” It’s the belief that one singular thing is the root cause of all our discomfort. This is where addicts often say, “If I can only kick this addiction, then my whole life would be better.” While this may seem logical on paper, it’s a deeply flawed perspective.
The real issue rarely lies with the substance or behavior itself but with something deeper—something the addiction is helping us avoid or cope with. Whether it’s trauma, depression, anxiety, or simply the existential weight of being human in an increasingly disconnected world, there’s usually a wound beneath the bandage.
Furthermore, the “If/Then” scenario places your healing, joy, and accomplishments in a fictional future state. “If I stop smoking weed, then I’ll finally have the motivation to start that business.” “If I quit drinking, then my relationship will improve.” These statements create a dangerous binary—because when the “if” is satisfied but the “then” doesn’t materialize, where does that leave you? Often, it leads to “If that didn’t work, then what’s the point of trying anything?”
This thinking creates a perfect setup for relapse or substituting one addiction for another. After all, if quitting didn’t magically transform your life as promised, why continue to deny yourself that temporary relief?
If you’ve been considering quitting cannabis or any other addiction, and you believe it to be the sole source of your unhappiness, I strongly urge you to reconsider your framework. The cannabis, or your relationship with it, is likely just a mask for your real pain. If you want to truly liberate yourself from the burden of addiction, you need to develop the capacity to sit with your pain, examine it, and cultivate joy despite it—not because it disappeared.
This article was inspired by a post I came across while scrolling through Reddit the other day—one of those moments where someone’s raw honesty stops you mid-scroll. A 32-year-old man shared that after smoking cannabis and drinking 4-6 beers daily for nearly his entire 20s, he had finally managed to quit both. No cannabis for almost six months, no alcohol for three. A significant achievement by any measure.
Yet instead of the transformation he expected, he felt “MISERABLE.” Despite taking medication for ADHD and anxiety, and despite removing substances that conventional wisdom says should improve his mental health, he felt no positive change. In fact, he felt worse, as if he’d “stopped doing things that were fun for me, or at least making life bearable.”
His post ended with a plea that broke my heart: “Is this just how I’m going to feel now? Does this go away eventually?”
This redditor’s experience perfectly illustrates the point—even when you manage to power through the physical and psychological challenges of quitting an addiction, your mental and spiritual state doesn’t necessarily transform as a result. His baseline remained exactly the same, perhaps even dipping lower without the chemical crutches he’d relied on for so long.
When you’re changing habits but not experiencing the promised benefits, it’s a clear sign that your discomfort or pain isn’t primarily coming from the substance. The cannabis or alcohol wasn’t creating your misery—it was masking it, providing temporary relief from a deeper issue that remains unaddressed.
This is something we all must consider when facing our compulsions. If you find yourself in a situation where you want to stop a behavior but simply can’t, it might be time to look deeper. Ask yourself, “Why do I do this activity?” And then ask “why” five more times, each answer digging a layer deeper toward the root cause.
Why do I smoke cannabis every night? Because it helps me relax. Why do I need help relaxing? Because my mind races with anxiety. Why does my mind race with anxiety? Because I’m worried about my future. Why am I worried about my future? Because I don’t feel secure in my career path. Why don’t I feel secure in my career path? Because I never really chose it—I fell into it. Why does that bother me? Because I feel like I’m not living authentically or pursuing my true passions.
Once you’ve excavated to this deeper level, you can begin to address the root causes directly. Perhaps the issue isn’t the cannabis at all, but rather that you need to reassess your career path or find meaning outside of work. Without this deeper work, quitting the substance becomes an exercise in willpower rather than healing.
Your addiction isn’t necessarily the root cause of your issues—it’s often just the most visible symptom. If you’re depressed, anxious, or feeling lost, it’s not primarily because of the substance; it’s because of something deeper that the substance helps you manage or forget temporarily.
Unless you actually do the internal work on these matters—examining your pain, seeking appropriate mental health support, rebuilding healthy relationships, finding meaning and purpose—no matter what you quit or how long you stay “clean,” you’ll likely find yourself seeking new ways to shield yourself from the pain. The prison isn’t cannabis or alcohol; it’s the unhealed wound those substances help you endure.
If you’re struggling right now, it’s absolutely important to seek help. That might mean therapy, support groups, or speaking with a healthcare provider about potential underlying mental health conditions that need treatment. But alongside that external support, commit to the honest and difficult work of looking inward. Ask yourself what you’re truly trying to avoid when you reach for that joint or that drink.
At the end of the day, we all have our struggles. If yours involves cannabis at this point in your life, there’s no judgment here. I’ve been there myself. But I’ve also learned that true healing rarely comes from simply removing something from your life—it comes from adding understanding, self-compassion, and addressing the real gaps in your heart and mind that the substance was never capable of filling in the first place.
The void can’t be filled by quitting. But quitting might just give you the clarity to finally see what the void truly needs.
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