Loving An Addict
By: Lauren Maltese
Tags: Addiction Recovery, Love Yourself, Narcotics Anonymous, Addiction, Recovery

Addiction: is it a choice or a disease? Who fucking cares. It’s addiction. Instead, let’s talk about the damage. Let’s talk about how it burns bridges, tears families apart, robs bright futures, and kills tens of thousands of people every year. These people are sons, daughters, significant others, friends, siblings- you name it.

I’m an addict myself. A recovering addict who has been blessed immensely with the life I have today. I fight every day to keep this life and not go back to that hopeless, miserable hell. I know what it’s like to use against my will, repeating, “tomorrow is the day I quit”, day after day. Not caring if I didn’t wake up, the withdrawals, the rehabs, the relapses, the obsessing, the lying, the stealing, anything to get one more. I’ll spare you the details, but believe that it was the most painful experience I had ever been through. Until I fell in love with an addict.

Unfortunately it is common in this generation to know someone, or even lose someone, who is an addict. If you can’t relate, I pray you never have to, but I’ll paint the picture from my point of view.

Loving an addict is looking at the empty shell of a human, grieving the person they once were. It’s holding your son tight, apologizing for something he doesn’t understand, but soon will. Its not knowing where to draw the line between being supportive and enabling. Its kicking him out, only spend all night calling him to make sure he’s alive. It’s sleeping with your phone on loud, awaiting the call you have been dreading. Its praying for the best but expecting the worst, because you know where this leads. Its watching the one you love suffer and not being able to fix it yourself. Its control issues. It’s seeing a happy family and envying what they have. Its hearing all the cliches from those who don’t understand- “when is enough going to be enough?”. It’s seeing your other half in a casket, and fearing you’ll have to relive that all over again. It’s watching everyone’s lives go on when your world stopped that day. Its attending more funerals than weddings, by a landslide. It’s making excuses for his actions, blaming it on the drugs. It’s holding onto hope that this time will be different. It’s loving him for the person he no longer is. It’s anxiety attacks. It’s losing sight of your own recovery. It’s carrying the weight of being “the strong one”, because someone has to. It’s having flashbacks from watching the withdrawals. It’s fear of judgement because you continually choose to stay. It’s missing out on girls nights because you fear what’s going to happen if you leave him alone. It’s making ultimatums and setting boundaries that you know will be broken. It’s seeing them get over the hardest point, only to relapse again. It’s disappointment, fear, anger. It’s resentments you build that hinder his healing. It’s automatically assuming everything is a lie or manipulation, and feeling like you’re crazy. It’s draining and painful.

If you relate to any of this, this is for you. Know that you’re not alone. I’m not telling you to leave or to give up because I’m sure you’ve heard it enough. You love who you love, but please remember to try to love yourself too. Take care of yourself and be kind to yourself. Don’t try to pour from an empty cup. Take that girls night, get a massage, do some soul searching, and live your best life. Look for people who understand and support you. Come to the realization that this is not under your control. Learn to let go and focus on your own healing. Find yourself again.

If you can’t relate, I hope you try to understand. It doesn’t matter if it’s a disease or a choice. It doesn’t matter if they “did it to themselves”. Nobody pictures their life turning out this way. Just know it can happen to anyone, and it’s heartbreaking.