To make a couple of things clear, I refer to him as my husband though we are not married. We are, however, deeply committed to each other and have a 3-year-old daughter.
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When I met him, I saw a kind of sadness in his eyes. Yet, I knew he had a heart of gold.
We began to see each other, get to know each other, and I discovered what was churning within. He struggled with addiction. Any hard drug you can think of, he had either tried it or was currently using it.
He was not the addict you see on the TV, dressed in rags, living in a hole of an apartment littered with syringes, and struggling to hold a job. You would see him at work, hitting record goals, and always had an ironed shirt. But there were days he seemed “sick”. He knew he needed a change, and he finally made it. He spoke to a doctor and was prescribed suboxone.
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I have a forgiving nature. I had told myself that I need to be careful. I forgive too easily and am hurt too often. I attract the broken.
But, something drew me to him.
3 months later, we were pregnant.
We had long conversations. I knew his addiction was still a problem, though he had been working on recovery. Suboxone only blocks the effects of opioids.
We decided that we would start a little family. I have to remind you that we were committed to each other.
The excitement, nervousness, and unsure emotions pulsed through our veins as the months crept by. Then, our beautiful daughter was born. We struggled the next couple of months trying to find our footing.
He went back to work 10 days after she was born and voiced his excitement to come home and be with his daughter.
Then, one day he was running late.
My heart sank.
My mind dissociated from my body. I was rocking my daughter, and I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t catch a thought to analyze it. This sounds like a crazy moment of distrust and cliche female reactions to a simple text of running late. But the probability seemed all too real at that moment.
He came home, and the sun had already set. The darkness from outside seemed to follow him in. I couldn’t see his face, and my body was shaking all over. His head hung low, dripping with sweat. On the verge of tears, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I took a breath. I couldn’t form a sentence even to cope with what had just happened. My heart was torn between my sleeping infant in her room and the person masquerading as my husband, standing at the front door.
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Cheating isn’t always so cut and dry as having sex with someone else. It can come in many shapes and sizes. It could be emotional cheating. For me, it was drug abuse. He cheated on our commitment. I felt cheated from time with him. With time spent with our daughter. With his sobriety.
The way I helped him through it was by being there. I stuck by his side. Though, at times I had to leave the house and took our daughter to get away from a possible explosive fight. To take a breath. But I knew, deep down, I couldn’t give up on him. He was worth saving and I could see he was fighting the darkness.
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This would not be the last time either. And it would not be so easy to get a confession of his relapse. With each relapse, I learned something new.
This is not my battle.
It was important for me to know that it was not my battle as hard as it was. The most heartbreaking was to watch as the addiction broke him down. Took over. I was powerless.
He is not himself.
Each time, I needed to remind myself during these moments, he is possessed. Possessed by the drug. His actions are not his. While sober, my husband cannot tell a lie. While high, he would string a story untrue and believe it with all his heart. The drug convinced him that he was in the right.
Set ground rules
I needed to set ground rules in case it did happen. The first was to be as honest as he can. I might be mad, but his and our daughter’s safety was key. The next was never in the house. Finally, don’t touch me.
The last one was for my own safety. He was not violent, but he was more of a sexual deviant.
He will always be in recovery.
The road to recovery is not straight. There are forks, crossroads, and tempting allies along the way. This is not just sayings to make you understand, either. Research on addiction proves the brain has literally been re-wired, and triggers can cause addicts and those in recovery to slip into a sort of autopilot.
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If someone you know is struggling with addiction, you are not alone. It’s important to remember that they are human. Too many times, I have shared this information about our relationship and have received negative comments, especially with our daughter in the equation.
Unless our daughter is in any danger, I will not leave him because I love him. Every part of him. I committed to our relationship knowing. Knowing the struggles and the possibilities. It didn’t shield me from the dark moments and emotions. But I never left his side.
I would choose a man willing to work on recovering from drug addiction who was strong enough to crawl out of the abyss and be there for our daughter and me over a man who cheats any day.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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