Loving an Addict Without Losing Yourself
Have you ever had a loved one — be it a family member, romantic partner, best friend, or anyone close to you — battling some form of addiction?
I have. Many years ago, I fell in love with someone who (unbeknownst to me, at the time) was struggling with substance abuse and addiction.
And I haven’t been the same person since.
But I don’t regret the time we shared together — and even though the ups and downs certainly took a toll on me (e.g., it felt like it completely tore me apart) — I wouldn’t take back any of it. Because, as painful as some of it may have been, it was/is still an experience (taking up quite a large chunk of my life, mind you) that shaped me into the person I am now.
I don’t consider the entirety of our relationship to be a “mistake,” but I do admit that my significant other was not the only one who made mistakes during our time together. I don’t claim to be “innocent,” or a “victim,” to any degree. I could have done things differently; I could have handled certain things ‘better.’ But I didn’t know when what I know now.
“Forgive yourself for not knowing what you didn’t know before you learned it.”
— Maya Angelou
Although my partner and I have since split up, it does not mean that I love him any less now than I did then. I still worry. I still care deeply for him, and his wellbeing. I still think about him all the time, and I continue to pray for him every day.
I just have to do this while keeping a “safe” distance . . . I do still make an effort to stay in touch with both him and his family members (that I also developed close bonds/relationships with).
. . . If I’m being honest — it’s really hard to love someone from afar . . .
When you truly, wholeheartedly love someone who has a problem with substance abuse or addiction, you want to support them in any way that you can. So you give and give and give — and they take and take and take (and then they will most likely take some more).
Sometimes, you see something inside of them — some slight shift in their eyes, as they look at you; a brief glimmer of hope, perhaps — and you think: “Just below the surface, there is some trace amount of sincerity or gratitude or something real,” … but it just isn’t enough.
The biggest blind-spot, for me (still — years later), is trying to figure out whether I fell in love with the ‘real’ version of this person, or if I fell in love with the version of the person who was using/high. And that tears me apart every single day.
You end up pouring yourself, and all of your resources, into them — and for what? Nothing ultimately changes, aside from the fact that you have neglected all of your own responsibilities in your futile attempts to take care of them and their needs. . . . But what about your own needs?
You still have to take care of yourself. But can you do both? Can you be an adequate support-system for an addict while taking care of yourself, too?
You cannot “fix” a person, and you cannot “save” anyone except for yourself. A person will not, and cannot, change their self-destructive behaviors unless and/or until something inside them shifts; giving them some newfound perspective which serves as the driving force behind their conviction to better themselves (and, in this case, to get clean).
In my story, specifically, I was forced to “save” myself from this unhealthy relationship by stepping away from it entirely and by making myself to “let go” of all the care-taking responsibilities that I had felt obligated to take on as my own… I can see now that they were never my burdens to bear, anyway.
So, I left. And I felt rotten and guilty about it for the longest time… I was no longer ‘there’ to give that person love and support when I knew they needed it, and I felt responsible for their subsequent relapses. I felt especially awful because, in my mind, it felt like I had somehow ‘abandoned’ him.
It took me a very long time to process everything, but I finally came to terms with the facts of the matter. In retrospect, I fully recognize that this was a situation that was completely beyond my control; it was always out of my hands. I did not ‘abandon’ him when we broke up, but I did ‘save’ myself by distancing myself from him and his whirlwind of chaos.
* But, for all I know, my presence very well could have been a contributing factor to the substance abuse as well… I’m no saint, and I ain’t nobody’s savior. *
For a long time, I tried to justify his strange behaviors… after all, he had been through a lot, and the kinds of things that he’d experienced couldn’t not effect someone. Alas, identifying a correlation or causation provided no real ‘justification’ for the behaviors associated with his addiction.
I guess the purpose of this post is mostly to serve as a sort of ‘catharsis’ for me; but I also want to let others (in similar situations as I was/am) know that they are not alone in what they are going through.
Addiction, in any of the many forms it manifests in, is one fickle bitch to deal with — no matter what your role. Nevertheless, it is a serious issue that needs to be recognized, addressed and de-stigmatized.
… but more on that later …
