Reader Submission: My Truth About Dating an Addict

Thirteen going on 14. Basically an adult, am I right?

Well that was my mentality at the time.

Let me paint the scene for you.

I had a group of friends who were bad influences and liked to use my house to sneak out and meet boys. Whenever we’d meet up with some boys, there was always an extra boy who I ended up talking to while my friends flirted with their picks.

So this boy was a lot more like a man…because he was 17.

I fell in love with him. Hard and fast.

It started off so well. He would send me the cutest texts. I snuck out to see him all the time, and we got to spend a lot of time together.

All the time I was spending with him led me to find out he liked taking pills. A lot of them. For fun.

I didn’t really understand it all, mostly because I had never really known him sober.

We dated each other for a while.

By 15, my mom hated him because he became an asshole. But I was 15. I was eating that shit up like ice cream.

When I say he was an asshole, I mean he was an asshole.

He was seeing three girls while still dating me. We naturally found out about each other (because girls always find shit out, don’t even try to get away with it. We belong in the FBI).

When we confronted him about it, it seemed like he just loved all the drama it brought.

He also led me to get in the most trouble I had ever gotten in.

You ready for this?

My sister and I still couldn’t drive at the time, so her and I would sneak out and meet up with my boyfriend and her boyfriend. He would pick us up and we’d just drive around at the dead of night until about 5am and sneak back in right before church (I know, lol).

Well on one of these glorious nights, he got really high and decided he wanted to steal a camera from Walmart. Meanwhile, my sister, her boyfriend and I are in his truck without the slightest idea he was on a mission to be an idiot.

He was taking a while, so I went inside to look for him.

When I find him, I see he’s being handcuffed. I freaked.

I ran back to his truck with all the intentions in the world to leave him there.

But his truck battery is dead.

Of course.

So, the cops immediately surround the truck and take us into custody, where we’re forced to call our parents to come pick us up at 5am.

Oh, and it was the night before Christmas Eve, so you can imagine how awkward Christmas was.

Very awk.

Things with him continued, but it was like I was dating two completely different people. He was one person when he was high, and someone completely different when he was sober.

The worst part is that I never knew which version of him I was going to get.
We were on and off for a while. He dated me and those three girls. One day it was me, the next day it was one of them.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘How could you put up with this?’, right?

I was young and obviously my decision-making skills weren’t the best at the time.

So at this point, I’m in 9th grade and he’s a senior.

I tried to move on and date other people, but he kept coming around. He told me he wanted to be exclusive time and time again, but nothing ever changed.

At this point, he was only getting worse.

He was high 24/7.

He was completely addicted to the point where he’d get physically sick when he didn’t snort a pill every hour.

Meanwhile, he also decided to start selling.

Think that’s bad?

It gets worse.

Eventually, snorting wasn’t effective enough for him anymore. He had to start shooting up to get the high he was looking for.

There was one night in particular that I will never forget.

We were in my bedroom.

He told me he needed a fix, but was still too out of it from the last time he shot up.

I’d never been around him while he did it.

I was so uncomfortable.

He was so out of it, he wasn’t able to tighten his belt around his arm.

So he turned to me and asked me to hold the belt tight around his arm while he shot up.

I said no, but he somehow convinced me to.

This moment still haunts me. It was unbearable to watch.

I took his belt and held it tight around his arm.

I turned my head away while he finished.

It was the most fucked up moment.

As our relationship continued, and he got worse, he started pawning things for cash.

Keeping up with his drug habit was getting expensive.

One night in particular, he came over for dinner. My poor parents were saints for trying to give him chances because I refused to let him go.

After dinner, he left and everything seemed normal.

The next morning I got a call saying he got arrested for breaking into someone’s garage and stealing four wheelers. He was also charged with drug trafficking.

The following day, I’m taking a nap and get woken up by my mom. She told me to go downstairs.

I get down there, still groggy, and standing there is a detective…wanting to talk to me.

Word had gone around that my boyfriend and I were together, so the detective assumed I was also dealing drugs and stealing.

The interrogation was one of the scariest, most frustrating moments of my life.

I had never touched that stuff. And the detective kept pushing me to admit that I had.

Once the detective left, I was relieved to not be a part of that,

I was 16 by this time, and he was 20, in jail.

I was like his little puppet. He wanted to talk to me, so because I was a minor, I’d meet up with his dad and pretend to be his niece so that I could talk to my boyfriend.

My mom of course didn’t know. She wouldn’t even let me write to him. Id write him long letters to him with my friend’s address and my friend would give me his letters once a week.

Looking back, it was crazy what we were doing.

This went on for a while until I finally came to my senses, and I broke up with him.

He tried coming back into my life time and time again until I was 21.

Now when I look back, I wish I had come to my senses sooner. But I also wish I was more knowledgeable about addiction and knew how to not only get myself away from the situation, but also try and help him get out of it too.

In this situation I learned that he may have loved me, but he loved the drug more. He would’ve ALWAYS chosen it over me time and time again.

Those years were tough, and I wish I knew what I know now.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: