Loving someone who is addicted

You’re Not Alone: A Note to the Ones Who Stick around

Over the years of working with families, one thing has become clear: there are no simple “shoulds” when it comes to loving someone in crisis. When a person is struggling with addiction — the path is rarely straightforward. It’s messy, exhausting, and often heartbreaking.

The phrase “losing yourself” isn’t an exaggeration — it’s a common reality. Over time, many loved ones begin to pour more and more of themselves into trying to fix the situation. They try harder. Watch closer. Take on more. It’s not uncommon to hear stories of partners, parents, or friends who restrict bank cards, shadow someone’s every move, or call dozens of times a day, rifling though pockets, standing outside the bathroom listening, or not allowing closed doors at all.

These are not acts of control, but acts of desperation. Out of love. It didn't start out this way, but neither did their drinking or using. You do not know when it happened, but on day you wake to the reality that this has now become a waking obsession and you arent even the addicted one.

If you could just force them to go that detox, if the doctor only believed what you were saying and maybe they could do something. There they are laying in a hospital bed in the emergency room - bruised, shaken, confused, inebriated, beligerent - and you watch stunned and helpless, as your loved one walks out of the hospital with full autonomy, for the 3rd time this month, seemingly untouched by what just happened. You wonder Why are they so sure of themselves? Why is no one helping?

the disease of addiction is a disease of lonliness. The disease of loving that person doesn't have to be

There’s often a cycle: of sobering promises — “I’ll never do this again” — followed by relapse. The anger and humiliation that boils up when you feel the heartache of betrayal, conned again. When is enough enough?

One thing I know which may bring some comfort, is that the familiar string of empty promises is not always just that. There are flashes of insight and sometimes they go just as quick as they come. But they are real, and the promises at that moment are coming from a genuine place. For a moment, they really do mean it. They feel it. But addiction is bigger than good intentions. It’s not about willpower. And when someone couldn’t control it years ago, before things got this bad, they cannot control it now — not alone.

This doesn’t mean they’re blameless. And it doesn’t mean their story isn’t full of pain, trauma, or injustice either. We know that most often people use substances because of unbearable experiences — ones that were never validated, or even acknowledged. But understanding someone’s pain does not change the fact that they are the only one who can decide to seek healing.

There’s a painful, thin line that many loved ones must walk:

• Yes, their trauma matters.

• Yes, their pain makes sense.

And also, only they can choose recover

But the pain they feel will not be fixed with an apology from those that hurt them. No external validation, no ultimatum can do that for them.

It’s not fair what brings someone to this place. And it’s not fair what you’ve gone through while trying to love them through it. But the belief that “they could stop if they wanted to,” or that you could say or do the right thing to finally make it click — that belief is a trap full of disappointment. The life of addiction isn’t a simple choice. It’s a tormenting cycle. And the most important thing I can say to those who love - you can’t save someone from it by losing yourself in it.

In your darkest hour, where now you start to look more unwell than the person who is addicted, when the hysteria from being lied to, conned, stolen from, manipulated makes it such that you start to present more unstable than the addict – well you have paradoxically rendered yourself to be of no use to that person at all.

I want everyone in this situation to know, that this loss of control, loss of sense of self - these are very normal reactions to very abnormal and extreme circumstances. You are not crazy but the powerlessness of the situation is indeed crazy-making.

I also want everyone to know that no matter how bad things get, there is ALWAYS a chance that someone will turn it around. For the people that do find recovery, it’s a process of starts and stops and baby steps forwards, giant leaps backwards and starting over. If not the first try at recovery maybe it’s the tenth, the hundredth or the thousandth kick at the can. Each previous start and stop is not lost, each relapse brings new insight and awareness that will be the stepping stones to hopefully one day sustain meaningful change. We must hang onto this belief for dear life.

Simultaneously, we must also recognize that it is not us who can control or fix the situation, and the more we double down in fixing that person, the more we become the object of thier anger, their excuse to use. Loving detachment is not the same as tough love though sometimes it can look the same. Loving detachment is about being effective at supporting this person while caring for yourself at the same time. It is about staying well enough so that when they are ready, we are in a position to help.

We have the power to regroup, zoom out, and put things in perspective for a bit. Long enough to find balance, find logic and reason, allowing for your love and support of that person to be more practical and more effective.

This is not easy stuff to figure out, but you do not have to go through it alone.

No one was ever meant to go through this alone.

<3 Shannon