Do You Love Someone with an Addiction?

Your Relationship May Be Out of Balance

When we love someone who struggles with an addiction, it’s difficult not to be affected by it. I’ve loved several people entirely consumed by something in their life: drugs, alcohol, work. I loved them, but not their addiction.

Maybe you have, too.

In each case the addiction crept into the middle of our relationship and lingered there. Untouchable. Uncontrollable.

We think of drugs and alcohol, but other less obvious addictions exist. People may be strangled by addictions to gambling, hoarding, food, sex, gaming, pornography. I’m sure you can name more. My partner’s workaholism was one of the addictions I “managed” when I covered for his absences.

I thought I was helping.

That’s why an addiction is called a family disease—it engages loved ones as though the addict operates in the middle of a wheel and his or her people are the spokes spinning around, rarely knowing which way is up, what story is truth, and when they’re being manipulated.

We want the best for them, so we fill in the gaps their addiction causes. In many cases we become conditioned to fix things, keep the peace, and right the wheel of their wobbly bicycle, often sacrificing bits of ourselves, one spoke at a time.

It’s called codependency.

In the process of helping we can lose our identity, as this give-and-take becomes central to our relationship.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. There are a ton of us out there (although many haven’t admitted it yet, even to themselves). Here are some examples of codependent behavior:

• Have you ever said yes to your person when your authentic answer was actually no?

• Or maybe you ignored things because it’s easier than an ugly confrontation—perhaps a time when someone snuck alcohol or stole from you.

• Maybe you’ve skipped an engagement you’d enjoy because you’re unsure what your person might do or how they might embarrass you.

• Have you ever given someone money for rent or a car payment when it’s not your responsibility? Even money for “something to eat,” denying that it will likely contribute to drugs or alcohol?

• I covered for someone—made excuses—when they missed an appointment, dinner or work. Have you?

Please comment if any of this resonates with you. There’s comfort in knowing I’m not alone.

At some point the addict can’t help it, this need to fill an empty space inside. In our effort to help them manage their lives, we increasingly engage and even take on their responsibilities. I’ll never forget when my older brother Brad asked me to call the restaurant where he worked to explain that he was sick. I didn’t realize then that he was sick from a lack of drugs. Taking on Brad’s responsibilities—I later learned—kept him from reaching rock bottom, the point where sobriety looked like the better option. Shame on me, I think now.

He valued my support. I valued our connection.

It looks like codependency when we gain satisfaction from helping, from receiving love in return. Over time we’re conditioned until we need to be needed. That’s how we become co-dependent—usually without recognizing or admitting it. Like carbon monoxide, codependency is unnoticeable—until it’s not.

It’s too late for my brother, but I’ve since learned about boundaries with the people in my life. To recognize that when a relationship is out of balance it prevents both their growth and mine. I’ve discovered how releasing them is the best thing for each of us.

I’ve learned to stop managing other people’s lives and start fulfilling my own purpose.

You can, too.

It’s hard work, but when we recognize our roles, begin letting go and embracing little changes, we can focus on our own life instead of someone else’s. We can keep our spokes intact.

Recovery is a process that begins with overcoming our denial and taking that first step toward ReVision. I’m happy to share what I’ve learned from forty years of hard knocks experience and recovery, to help you find the freedom that can change your life. I invite you to check out my website at www.lizsalamyabess.com or email me to discuss it more.

I’ve been there.