Being in a relationship with an addict, or even simply caring about one is so unbelievably difficult and I never realized just how much until very recently.

It’s hard to watch someone you love be so blatantly careless and self-destructive, it’s hard when the person you want to spend the rest of your life with is hellbent on ending theirs.

Would you be able to remain silent while your lover held a gun to their temple? Could you watch as they put their finger on the trigger without doing everything you could to intervene?
A loaded syringe is just as deadly as that loaded gun, only not as quick and much easier to justify.

If you were to ask me, it’s that justification that makes an addiction far more lethal than the loaded gun but never as quick and painless.
Loving an addict bears the same heartache, we’re just oblivious to the pain we’re causing because we’re too busy only caring about ourselves and our selfish need to numb the feelings we refuse to cope with.
And as if that isn’t bad enough, try being an addict and also loving one as well.

It’s a total mind fuck, it’s impossible to care about them without being a hypocrite.

You can’t tell someone to respect themselves or value their life if you aren’t then willing to do the same, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to save his life. It’s a double standard but quite frankly, I don’t care.
I’m willing to accept my obvious hypocrisy if it means he stay with me for as long as possible, if it means I won’t have to watch him die before me.

I hate myself because I know if I were to quit, he would too but, I just can’t. Not for very long anyway and then we’re right back to playing Russian Roulette while the other watches.

It makes me feel so guilty, it makes me feel like this could all be prevented but I’m just too selfish to take the steps to make it happen.
How do I wrap my brain around all of this? I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing he would get sober but I know that means we couldn’t stay together, not unless I was able to do the same.

We either have to get sober together or one of us has to leave, it’s so much fucking pressure.
If I want to be with him but still continue to use, I’d have to keep my mouth shut and let him pull the trigger until he runs out of luck.
But if I did nothing to stop him from killing himself, doesn’t that make me just as responsible for his death?

How could I live with myself after that? And more importantly, how could I live in a world where he doesn’t exist?

Junkies are ruthless heart breakers and shameless hypocrites, we’d be lying if we tried to argue any different.




By: Lauren Fanning / Bloody (MentalBloody)



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