Loving an Addict

Life has a way of teaching lessons we never asked to learn. For me, those lessons have come through love—messy, heart-wrenching, transformative love. Loving an addict is not for the faint of heart. Loving a few in my life? It’s a journey that will bring you to your knees.

Both of my former romantic partners have struggled with addiction, and so has my oldest child. The people I’ve held closest to my heart have been locked in battles I can’t fight for them. Personally, I have never struggled with addiction, yet I have been affected by addiction nearly my entire adult life and live in the tension of wanting to save them, knowing that I cannot. It’s a hell that far too many know, and one that I hope others never have to know. But somehow, love keeps me standing.

The Partner I Fell For—and the One Addiction Took

I had just divorced my husband of 19 years due to the affects of his addiction when I met my next long-term romantic partner. He was everything I wanted: charming, funny, and full of life. He could light up a room and make me feel like the only woman in the world. But his dependence on alcohol had a way of stealing that light.

It started subtly. Excuses for why he was late or didn’t show at all, promises broken just as easily as they were made, or forgotten entirely. I felt so alone, disregarded, and taken for granted. My internal voice told me I must not be enough if he wouldn’t choose me, right? (I now know that is not true. I am more than enough!)

But I stayed because I could see glimpses of who he was beneath the alcohol. (Also, I was a chronic people-pleaser and fixer, believing that I can love people enough to fix their hurt. I enabled in a HUGE way! Ask me how that’s worked out for me!) When he was sober, he was the man I fell for—kind, loving, and deeply regretful for the pain he had caused me. Those moments, however, were fleeting. So, I had to radically accept him for who he is, not who I wanted him to be, and choose myself.

I remember her laughter as a little one, her endless curiosity and dreams for the future. She is a talented and gifted young woman with a huge heart and she has so much to offer this world.

A Mother’s Love in the Face of Addiction

If loving an addicted partner is heartbreaking, loving an addicted child is soul-crushing. My child’s addiction feels like a personal failure, a question that haunts me: What did I do wrong? I would keep myself up at night, beating myself up, consumed by guilt and grief.

I remember her laughter as a little one, her endless curiosity and dreams for the future. She is a talented and gifted young woman with a huge heart and she has so much to offer this world.

I also see someone who is hurting, suffering the consequences of her choices in a life-altering way. Though I didn’t know it, she was lost in a haze of substances and people she believed were the answer. As a mom, all I want is to wrap her in my arms and make everything better. But she is incarcerated now and addiction has stripped me of the ability to even hug her. 

There are days when I’m angry—angry at the world, at the substances that have ensnared her, and, if I’m honest, even at her for the choices she made and the impact it’s had on everyone who loves her. But more than anything, the grief is excruciating. Some days, it washes over me and takes me down for days or weeks at a time. 

The Weight of It All

Balancing the affects of these relationships is like walking a tightrope while carrying the weight of the world. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning, pulled under by guilt, anger, and exhaustion. Other days, I find strength in the smallest victories—a day of sobriety, a heartfelt conversation, a glimmer of hope.

I spent so much of my life enabling those I love who have struggled with addiction. I see that now. It wasn’t until my daughter found herself in the throes of a serious legal situation when I stopped to really learn about addiction and how to love someone with an addiction. (Al-Anon meetings were my saving grace!) Because unlike my romantic relationship, I couldn’t just walk away from her. A mother’s love roots itself deep in your soul, and no matter how much pain it causes, letting go feels impossible.

One of the most poignant moments of my journey was in an Al-Anon meeting, listening to someone read “I’m Putting My Son in Your Care” from The Forum. This was the moment I knew it was time to let go of the weight of it all. That there was a way for me to live a fulfilling life while loving the addict, even if that meant letting go or loving them from a distance.

Finding My Own Path

Through therapy and support groups, I’ve learned that I cannot pour from an empty cup. Loving addicts doesn’t mean losing myself. I’ve set boundaries—not out of punishment, but out of love for myself and for them.

I’ve learned to separate the person from the addiction. They are not their addictions. They are people—beautiful, flawed, and hurting—worthy of love even in their darkest moments.

I’ve learned that even though I’ve been negatively affected by addiction in my life, I have to accept that I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it (the 3 C’s of Al-Anon).

Hope Amid the Chaos

I don’t know how this story will end for my daughter or for my former romantic partners.  Addiction is a cruel disease, and recovery is never a straight line. But I hold onto hope because it’s the only thing stronger than fear. 

To anyone walking a similar path: You are not alone. This journey is messy, painful, and unfair, but it’s also a testament to the power of love. Love for them, but also love for ourselves. Radical acceptance of what is, not what we want it to be. We may not be able to save the ones we love, but we can choose love, even if that means loving them from a distance.

If you have a loved one who suffers from addiction and you’re struggling, the following resources may be helpful for you:

Mothers Against Addiction - For mothers coping with their child’s addiction

Alcoholics Anonymous - For friends and family of loved ones with addiction

If you want to share your story and seek connection through the Been There, Babe community, we’re here for you.