I am reflecting on a 6 year, on&off relationship in therapy, and I’m looking for honest advice from people who may understand addiction from being in it or recovering. I’m not trying to diagnose or shame my ex. I’m trying to understand whether my concerns were reasonable, whether I made things worse, and how much my own history affected the way I responded.
For context, I grew up in extreme poverty, domestic violence, and a family deeply affected by substance abuse. There were times when I stole bread so my siblings and I could eat, shared dirty bathwater, lived with infestations, and was repeatedly evicted. My stepfather was an alcoholic and abusive. My mother misused prescription medication while coping with the abuse and later died from injuries he caused. My sister used marijuana heavily to numb the pain of SA, eventually consumed something that was apparently laced, and now lives in a care facility with schizophrenia. I know marijuana does not cause that outcome for everyone, but the experience permanently shaped how I view drugs and not having money or being poor.
I spent most of my life trying to escape that environment. I became a young mother while trying to get away from home, later raised my child as a single parent, earned multiple degrees, went from sleeping on buses to owning a home, and built a stable 6 figure career. I attend therapy, volunteer, work out, and avoid alcohol and drugs because I struggle with depression and know I could become dependent on unhealthy coping mechanisms. I am not perfect, but stability and self-discipline became extremely important to me.
My ex also came from a difficult home. His parents were hardworking immigrants who continued working and supporting the household, but there was a lot of conflict and heavy drinking within the family. He often seemed to feel that he could never live up to his parents or become successful by their standards. We originally bonded because we both had painful home lives and leaned on each other for support.
We met while working as servers when I was young, vulnerable, and pregnant. He would bring me food and drive me to appointments so I would not have to take the bus. We remained friends for years before dating during the pandemic. I loved him deeply. We traveled, shared hobbies, and built a life together. I waited a year before introducing him to my child, and they developed a loving relationship. He was never visibly intoxicated around us. I started to feel that things were a little uneven with me paying for most of our dates and feeling like he wasn’t putting an effort once he got comfortable and asked for a pause while he got his self together. During one of our breakups, his family told me that he had been hiding his marijuana use because he knew about my family history. They also said he sometimes borrowed money and used it to buy weed, I was so ashamed and embarrassed because I thought his family viewed him as honorable but they sat me down and explained that if it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t even tolerate him. I later learned that he was drinking more than I realized. For example, he once told me he bought a 12-pack to last the week but had finished it within three days. He said this was normal, that he only used substances socially, and that I was making it into a bigger issue than it was. I think I was not really putting it together that he may be relying on these things when not around me to make himself feel better or cope with where he was in life. He also was very unhappy about his weight, he had gained almost 165 pounds since we’ve met and I never loved him any less for that but I could tell that maybe alcohol is contributing to that. His hygiene also got bad and he would spend most days inside gaming and not wanting to do anything and I just couldn’t get through to him even though I feared it may have been some sort of depression.
The substance use was not my only concern. He seemed increasingly unhappy and angry, struggled at work, argued with managers, and rarely followed through when I helped him apply for other jobs. His family and friends also noticed that he was becoming meaner in the way he spoke to people. It turns out on the days he didn’t smoke was when he would be most agitated, like getting into road rage which I found out about after the fact.
I responded by trying to help with almost everything. I offered to pay for therapy, completed job applications for him, encouraged him to exercise, cooked healthier meals, did his laundry, and continued helping financially I did everything I could but somehow it was never enough to make him grow up. Eventually, I felt more like his parent than his partner and our sex life was no longer existent. He can no longer afford gifts for Christmas or my birthday and told me he felt ashamed, but somehow he still had money to buy marijuana pens? . He later told me that I was always trying to fix him and that he did not want to change. Looking back, I think that criticism was fair.
The final breaking point involved his mother. She developed end-stage liver cirrhosis and began attending AA. Her medical team emphasized the importance of having a supportive, alcohol-free environment, but members of the family continued drinking around her. His culture is heavy into drinking during social events which I respect but thought for her they may pull it back but no. I later learned that my ex was still drinking and hiding alcohol in his closet. His mother found his stash, drank again, and ended up back in the hospital. I was overwhelmed and furious. Both of my parents are gone, and I could not understand why he would keep alcohol in the house when his mother was seriously ill. That night, I called him a loser who didn’t care about anyone but himself and ended the relationship. I regret saying that, even though I still believe leaving was the right decision. I had no right to call someone a loser but I was just so angry.
He insisted that he is not addicted and could stop whenever he wanted. From what I have heard, he is still drinking heavily and his circumstances have not changed much. At the same time, I understand that I cannot accurately diagnose him, especially based only on my experience as his partner. What I am struggling with now is my own role. Did I support him, or did I enable him by repeatedly giving him money, solving his problems, and shielding him from consequences? Was I unfairly judging him because of what addiction did to my family? Or were secrecy, financial consequences, repeated drinking despite serious harm, and an unwillingness to change reasonable causes for concern?
I also wonder whether I was trying to “save” him because I could not save the addicted adults in my childhood. Part of me feels used and deceived. Another part feels guilty that I may not have shown enough compassion. It’s been one year since the break up and I’m still sad about it, I wish he saw himself how I saw him. There was a light in his eyes, he was so full of humor, he used to be so sweet, and he just got stuck somehow. I don’t know where he is inside of himself and I wish I had done better somehow. Also I begged him to go to doctor because he constantly has stomach and back pain …won’t get physical or go to dentist he says is he dies he dies and I don’t think he understood how much that hurt me. I want to see him live, succeed and be happy.
For people who have experienced addiction personally or loved someone struggling with it: How do you distinguish compassion from enabling? How should a partner respond when someone denies there is a problem? And how do I let go of the guilt without ignoring the ways I could have handled things better? How do you determine what is social use vs heavily reliant on? I keep battling all these what if and if I had done something differently, what the outcome would be. I ended up calling him one night, six months ago, crying my eyes out telling him how afraid I was that I was going to fall in love and marry him and find him dead like I did my parents. I had to leave because I couldn’t face seeing that and he told me I was being dramatic and that he didn’t have a problem.
