Before you read this I want you to know that I write this today for my healing and my coping with having lived with an addict.  This is not here to tell you how to feel, or how to make a decision in your life, and it is by no means direction on how to deal with living with an addict.  This is just my story, that I felt like, if I write and I tell, that it will help me, and in hopes help those going through similar scenarios.  This is just my story, and my opinions and thought and I in no way force those thoughts and opinions upon you. It is long, but so was the actual journey.

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How do you pick up the threads of an unwoven life?  Especially when in your heart, you know that there is nothing left for you here.  There are no words to describe the events, the moments, the things that I endured during a brief period of my adult life.  No words to sum it up, and make you understand in the truest of forms what it actually felt like.  In my mind, I realize that there are just some wounds that even time can not heal, they have cut too deep, and have taken hold.  But please remember that while you read this, while I tell you what happened to me, know that I dont want your sympathy.  Please do not feel sorry for me, it was a risk that all of us take, right before we take the plunge into the void.  Sometimes it pans out, and sometimes it does not, thats just how life goes.  After all, if I truly had the purity of all my convictions in life, then I probably wouldn't have regret for some of the choices I made during this time.  But please, it was rough, and like I said there are no words to really describe it, dont feel sorry for me.  I promise by the end, you will know why.

    It all started about 5 years ago, in a small remote town in Wisconsin, right near the border of Minnesota, with me, a 24 year old Retail Manager fast on the rise to becoming the leader in his field.  By the time I had moved to this new town and new store, I had already been a manager for more than a year, and been with the company holding multiple positions for 4 years prior.  I moved to the store because it was the next step in what I had hoped to be a very long and enduring career.

 I often wonder now if this is where I went wrong.  If I had the The Doc and Marty McFly to take me back, if this decision would be the one I would change, but then I am swiftly reminded in my wondering thoughts..that stupid.time travel isnt real.  You made the choice, whats done is done.

But anyways, back on track.  Small town western Wisconsin, right near the Twin Cities.  It was perfect, close enough to take a day trip to the Mall of America, or shopping outlets, but far enough away where you didnt have to fully deal with the chaos of a big city.  I had my small quant one bedroom apartment that overlooked a valley that had a creek running through it, and where you could basically see half of the entire town.  So there, I was making my way in the retail world, by doing my daily duties and then more and more, till I was career obsessed.  12 hour days, regular days, going in at 2 AM because that when my mind just decided to wake up.  I got so good and finite at everything that my part of the store required minimal upkeep from me, that and I also had an amazing wholesome group of colleagues that I still talk with today, and I decided finally now was the time to make a personal life for myself.

So I downloaded this app that allowed me to see other guys in my area.  Oh by the way, Im gay, just in case you didnt realize by my name that I am a guy and I just stated that I downloaded and app to look for OTHER guys.  I saw a profile of a guy, that stated he was 22, blonde hair, piercing eyes, and a wicked smile.  After a brief hello, and asking him how his day was going, like any normal person does on these apps, I learned that his name was Tom.  Tom lived in a neighboring town 15 minutes away, that had far more to do, and had a direct freeway line to the Twin Cities.  After several correspondence with Tom, across several days, I finally mustered up the courage to ask this guy out on a date.  To which he wholesomely and almost immediately said yes.

I remember that night like it was yesterday.  It was the iconic butterfly in the stomach, meeting someone for the first time, getting ready, making sure you look good, cleaning the car, first date type of thing that you used to see in the movies.  I did it all, not only did I do the prep stuff but I did the typical first date too, dinner and a movie.  So I picked him up and we got to driving to Olive Garden, which believe me.which ironic for reason you will come to find out.  And after talking with him, and giving him some good glances I finally mustered up the courage to ask, Are you sure you are 22 years old?  And this smile, and this look in his eyes came over his face, and he simply replied, I pull it off pretty well dont I, but no you are right, Im 28.  And that, that exact moment that I described, looking back on my life, my time with him that was the moment I should have known better.  At the time I was young and dumb and hoping to find the first and last love of my life, and thought it was cute and funny and said, Yeah you do pull it off pretty well.  So stupid.  Oh my lord, was I so stupid.  Who lies about their age, only to make himself appear and feel younger?  And that smile, and look in his eyes was like, who me.22 years old, oh please, but Im glad you fell for my con.  I am glad I tricked you, I am glad I got my way.  I remember that smile and the look in his eyes very well.  It haunts me still to this day.  I shouldve known better.  Right then, but I didnt. I continued on.  We went to dinner, then to a movie, then to get some ice cream afterwords, and then back to his place, which wasnt his place I also found out.  It was his parents, good god 22 and still living with his parents, if that wasnt warning enough remember now that I found out he was 28!!  Then tell me how blithely unaware I was.  Actually dont.I figured it out for myself just now.

We went on a few more dates after that, nights that I had off, and weekends we could spend the whole day together.  A month or so passed and he started spending the night at my place because the driving back and forth was quite annoying.since he didnt have a car of his own, or a job for that matter.  *Thud* *Thud* *Thud*, that is the noise of me hitting my head against my desk right now, as I continue to uncover more, duh moments.  Then there was the first time it happened.  We had plans that night for him to come to my place and watch a movie, spend the night and then go do something in the Cities the next day.  Only he never responded to my text when I got off work. An hour went by and he didnt pick up the phone when I called him, an hour later, and so on and so forth.  I went back on the app that we had met on and saw that he was online, which was a little heart wrenching but, we never made everything official.  Then after sometime a new guy showed up in the area next to him, and then shortly after that guy and him were further away at the same distance, and later after that further away.  And for me, I didnt feel like he would be someone to give up on something like a relationship so easily.  We had fun, I mean I remember actually enjoying the time I spent with him those first months.  The next day I went over to his sisters house where he had moved sometime in there, and asked her if she had seen him at all.  She simply said, He said he was going to your place last night, took his pillow and a bag. 

Then this look of rage came over her face, rage and sorrow.  Its a very difficult face to describe, but she told me to come on in and have a seat and shell be right back.  She went upstairs and came back down and said, Yep, he took the majority of his stuff. Here we go again.  I gave her the puzzled looked that anyone would give to a statement like that and she goes, Yeah, we figured he didnt tell you, Oh god Ryan Im so sorry.

  I replied, with the obvious statement, Didnt tell me what?!

Tom is what they call a binge addict, can go for prolonged periods of time on drugs, and goes hard and heavy, and then can go prolonged periods of time without them, but the without always comes back with a vengeance for an even harder and longer binge than the one before, she explained.  My heart sank, because I always hated the torture that addicts make themselves endure.  For me, one that has a bleeding heart, it makes me sad.  I think it was this day that my addiction started.  Yes addiction, thats what I am going to call it, addiction.  Because of my bleeding heart, because of how I was raised.I said I have to fix him, I have to make him better. I know that we felt something for each other and its not something that should be thrown away.  It was my job, my path to make us right, to make him better and to make us work.

So what do we do now? I asked.

There is nothing that you can do Ryan, binge addicts will go until they want to stop, and anyone trying to stop them only pushed them even further. His sister replied.

There was more dialogue after this, but ultimately it came down to me not accepting her original response.  Me saying no, there is something that we have to do in order to stop this, we have to find him, put him in a treatment facility, and go from there.  That was my thought process that was my only way in my head.  I didnt usually use my connections from work to call in favors, but with a clenched up stomach, shortness of breath, head whirling anxiety attack happening, I felt as though I had no choice.  Through my connections with law enforcement I was able to track him down to a hospital in the Twin Cities.  He had an over-dose in front of the hospital and was admitted.  The conversation that we had was a very awkward conversation.  Like how do you ask someone why they didnt tell you they were a drug addict that ultimately had no life to speak of.how do you ask someone that.  But some how we got around to it, and there was crying on both sides, and I did the dumb bleeding heart things, hugged him, kissed him, told him that we are going to get you help to kick this.  After some time his mom showed up, and there wasnt a tear in her eyes.  Not a single one, only the eyes of anger.  She let him have it.  She asked him how he dare do this to someone you yourself told me you actually care about.  At that point I started crying more and my bleeding heart was at this point now hemorrhaging forever deepening the link between him and myself, and him getting fixed and me being the rock that he can stand on.  I left with a heavy heart, but knowing that his mother was there was kind of a relief.

I was hooked, I couldnt stop, and I had fallen head over heels in love with him, and then over and over again after he relapsed on drugs and winded himself in the hospital.  His mother eventually got him into a recovery program and after the first month they were allowed to have a free day, where they could leave the facility and get out and spend the day with a responsible drug screened person.  OH, Im sure you guessed it.that was me.  I went through their rigorous screening process and got approved to be his babysitter for a day.  Every weekend I would drive 45 minutes one way just to pick him up and then drive 45 minutes back just to spend time with him.  We would watch TV, go out to eat, take walks and talk about how he is doing.  After about two months of this driving back and forth spending my money, using my gas, he was getting closer and closer to getting out of the program.  His sister refused to talk to him because of what he had done to me, and to her.  And his mother couldnt stand to watch her son continuously keep doing this to people in his life, after all I eventually learned that this was the 9^th time that this has happened, or thats the last number they remember actually counting.  His sister stated that is soon became the norm and she stopped counting.  So after learning all this it came down to the sheer fact that he really had no place to go, and that he really had no way to support himself. So I fed my addiction even more and said.this is the best way.  He will live with me, and I can help him.  Not only that I could watch him, so I will be able to see if things are going amiss.

The day came for his treatment to be over.  He told me that he will get released after they have their first group meeting, which unfortunately for him was 10 AM, and I was working till 5pm.  I think it was by 3 oclock that day he stopped responding to my text messages.  By 5 oclock I picked up the phone and started to call him, and it went to voicemail. Immediately that feeling in my stomach came back.  He wouldnt, he couldnt, three months of treatment only to disappear again.  I panicked for about an hour till 6 when he called and basically blamed me for being late and that he was upset that I wasnt there.  I didnt even know where he was.  He told me to call him back when I was close to the place where he went to treatment and he will give me directions.  The whole way, I was having anxiety because I knew something was up, something was wrong.  He eventually directed me to a Cubs food close to the treatment facility, and when he got in my car, I immediately understood what was wrong.  He was drunk.  The smell of booze on him was too powerful, that I had to roll down my window.  The trip home his actions of yelling, and screaming at people out the window during rush hour only made my gut feel worse.  He kept telling me how shitty of a driver I was and that, I was the cause of all the bad traffic, and it was all my fault.  Then when the traffic broke he started directing me and telling me how to drive and when to change lanes and flipping people off.  It took me ten minutes to realize that as soon as his arm came in, that I needed to roll and lock the window.  Duh Ryan.  We made it home, and he said he was hungry and that I needed to make him some food.  Without pause, without any thought, thats what I did, he just sat on the couch watching TV every so often flailing to a different position.  I put the pizza in and went outside to call his mom.  He broke my heart to tell her what had happened.  It broke my heart even more when I heard in her voice how much it broke hers.  My anxiety and emotions were peaked, after I finished talking with her, I stayed outside deep breathing trying to calm myself.  I couldnt do it, my body told me that I needed to throw up to feel better, to feel relieved, only thing was thatI didnt.  I dry heaved like six times in a row.  After it happened, oddly enough I felt better.  I looked out on the lawn that laid in front of me and said, wow, my feelings for him are so strong that I make myself throw up just worrying about him.  Then another thought came to my mind..the pizza I put in the oven for him.  I have to feed him, once I feed him he will be back to the old Tom and we can start our life together.  Food that will make it better. So stupid.

So that was the start, he enrolled in a gym that he went to everyday to keep him up and active, because active addicts are better apparently and its healthy to boot.  All that exercise makes happy people stuff that my shrink shoved down my throat back in high school.  Eventually I used my pull and got him a job at the pizza joint that resided in my store that I worked at.  Again, it gave me some weird satisfaction that I knew where he was during the day.  I would go to work some days and he didnt have to work, and my anxiety the entire day would be through the roof.  I couldnt focus, or get anything done at work.  And we did it that for about a year.  During that time, he seemed to remain sober.  There were times that I wondered though, because he would stay up all night.  One night I woke up and caught him watching porn and Facebook chatting with someone.  After he got up to go to the bathroom I saw that he had sent a private photo to some guy and was talking about going out with him.  I confronted him, and he yelled at the invasion of his privacy and I screamed back about sending him his nude photos.  I thought we were a couple, I thought we were together.  He told me we were and he blocked the person on Facebook and came to bed.  Hope, a glimmer of hope I got from this encounter, that I was making a difference.  That my love, was enough for him to not want to do something, especially with some that clearly, just based on his pictures let alone the conversation, did drugs.

Then Valentines Day rolled around, and I made the stupid decision to buy us wine for the fancy dinner we were going to make together.  He drank a whole bottle by himself.and somewhere after I had fallen asleep, he snuck out to the liquor store and bought a bottle of vodka, and another bottle of wine.  And after his booze binge of 24 hours and me working, and him sneaking off to buy even more we got to the night of February 16^th.  I came home to an empty apartment and immediately started panicking.  I got in my car and started driving around town desperately trying to find him, because thats the only thing that I could think off, while calling, while texting.  Eventually I found him riding his bike, which I bought himwith a bottle in his right hand and him struggling to peddle along.  He was gone drunk.like obliterated drunk.  Could barely talk.  I followed him home and he started yelling at me because I wanted to know what was going through his head.  He screamed something along the lines of, that he couldnt live like this anymore.  He couldnt live in Elksnout Wisconsin, and not have any friends and not go out, and that it was all my fault, and that he was leaving.  There it was, that feeling, that anxiety was coming back.  I kept asking where are you going, how are you going to get there, what are you going to be doing.  A thousand or more thoughts crossing my mind all at once all while he was grabbing clothes and stuff and putting them in a bag.  Then he left.with me crying.  And once again I did the only thing I could think off.I got in my car and started to follow him.  He kept yelling at me to leave him alone, that I didnt love him, that I was pathetic and to look at how pathetic I am that I am literally following him around and begging him to come back.  Fuck...if I had my right mind then I would have realized what he was actually saying was truth.  I was pathetic, but then I had to help him from himself.  After about two miles of walking he made it to a bar.  He sat in there for about an hour, and eventually I went in and saw him drinking and eating, and I went to talk to him.  He never responded.no response, none what so ever.  He only did one thing, he gave me that smile and those eyes.  I hadnt seen them in a long time, but there they were.  I left the bar and went out and called his mother on my way home, and his sister and asked if they could help talking to him.  God, I should have listened to them when they told me pushing only makes it worse.  After about a two mile walk back from the bar.he started pounding on the apartment door.  Screaming you piece of shit, you worthless pile of crap, open the god damn door.  I was both scared and anxious.  I dont know what he could do to me and I dont know what the neighbors are going to do if I continued to let him yell through the door.  So I let him in.

I wish I could tell you that that was it.  That he came in put his stuff down and went to bed and our we are still living together to this day happily ever afterlets get one thing straight, before we continue, happily ever after, doesnt exist.  Just so everyone is aware, you will never ever be 100% the entire rest of your life from the time you read this statement till the day you die.  NEVER.  Its literally not possible when you actually think about it.to be happy the rest of your life, maybe overall happy, but not always ever after.  But no, thats not how the rest of the night went.  He came in, put his stuff down went into the kitchen, riffled through the fridge a bit, and then with that smile and those eyes turned to me and started screaming that he cant believe I called his family.  He told me that his family doesnt need to be a part of his life, mainly because he knew that he didnt want to upset him more and more with his continuous disappointments, which in his mind were bound to happen.  Again I felt sorry for him, until I noticed that we was coming at me with a wooden spoon that was just lying on the counter.  He kept screaming and pushing at me and hitting me with his fist and the wooden spoon.  Eventually one of the jabs to me with the wooden spoon broke it and he abandoned it while he continued on with screaming and punching.  I dont know how we got there but eventually we go to the bathroom where I tripped over the side of the tub and fell in, where he crawled on top of me screaming this is what you get for talking to my family.  This is what you get, you dont control me, you cant fix me.  This is what you get!!  Do you get it?! And I dont know if it was the blood that made him stop or me getting light headed and partially blacking out, but he did.  And he left.

   Someone, somewhere in my building was a saint.  Truly, and I wish to this day to know who called the police, but the police came and pulled me out of the tub.  EMTs checked me out and wanted to take me to the hospital, but I denied.  The police took my statement of what had happened, and that they caught him hiding in the stairwell of the building next door.  Because of his record.they took him to jail.  For obvious reasons, I didnt go into work for the next two days, claiming that I ate some bad Chinese and that is why I couldnt get into work. 

Then the day that I finally get back to work, and its out of my head.  The phone rings, and its a number that I do not recognize.  It was the jail, and I had a call from an inmate.  So stupid..so so stupid, but I picked up.  And I heard his voice, and heard him crying and saying that he was sorry, and that he doesnt even remember any of it happening, the only thing he remembers was that he hurt me, and he was sorry.  And like an idiot that I was.I took him back.  I said no, that it was my fault and that I shouldnt have pushed him so hard.  He wanted to see me and then, that night, like the idiot I was.  I went, and my bleeding heart continued to hemorrhage when I saw the lack of sleep and terror in his eyes.  He looked like a lost puppy in a shelter waiting to be chosen and taken home.  I fell for it.  I needed him, I needed my fix.  I needed to fix him.  My addiction only grew deeper. Somewhere after that I agreed to help him do his work release.  Drive 30 minutes round trip to the get him and bring him to the store, which was literally 3 minutes from my apartment.  Five months I did this.Every day he worked.  For five months.  And then he moved back in with me.

Again..happily ever after doesnt exist, so obviously you know things got betternot.  I think we rinsed and repeated three times over two years, the beatings and the emotional turmoil getting increasingly worse each time.  I wont bore you with all the details of the matters, but not all were physical so much as they were emotional.  One had a cracked rib, another put me in counseling for months.  My family knew about everything because they are my rock and begged me to get out, and the look of distain they gave him at holiday dinners still haunts me to this day.  But no, I didnt care, I had to have my drugI had to fix him, and this is what I signed up for.  This is what my life was.

But the good news is, that I never let my career wary from all this.  And I accepted a new role in the Twin Cities, and told him that we were moving, and he was all but happy to accept for obvious reasons.  Everything an addict needed right at his fingertips, within hands reach in the twin cities.  I would like to say my anxiety had peaked, but it wasnt until we moved and he disappeared on the first week that I knew it had not peeked.  The dry heaves wouldnt stop because I was literally making myself sick after some nights.  He eventually got a job at a restaurant.as a server.here comes the irony part that I talked about earlier.  It was Olive Garden, he got a job at Olive Garden.  And every night he would finish his night with a glass or a bottle of wine.  He would get better and then worse with his drinking.  One time he lost his car in the city somewhere cause he was drunk and he had to abandon it before the police caught him.  I literally left work on my lunch and just drove around the place we lived in order for him to find it.  After that things got pretty rough where the anxiety, the worry was actually effecting my work.  Effecting my sleeping, my eating.  And to this day, I dont know it was because of him, or because of something that happened at work, but I lost my job, and I was devastated.  I was horrified, I didnt know what I was going to do, but the day it happened he was there and cried with me and held me and made me dinner.  Then, the next nighthe was gone.  I later found out he went to an old friends of his house to drink and talk about what had happened with me, and how terrified he was because now we were going to have to depend on him for a while.  I financially could not be the rock anymore.  And that scared him more than anything else.  I left the Twin cities and went home to my family in panic and awe from what had happened.  All that time I tried to talk with him because he had to work one day and was off the next two..but he never answered.  He never texted, called, anything.  In my heart I knew what had happened, that he had relapsed, I mean after all it was right at his fingertips, and now that his parents bought him a car, he could go and do what he wanted.  I came back to the apartment a mess.  There was an empty bottle of vodka and lube in the bedroom, and then there was a single pillar candle sitting on the kitchen table.  He did it in my apartment.  He did meth in my own apartment.  And after all the years, and all that had happened the week prior, it clicked.

My addiction ended that day.  I went to the management office of the apartment complex and said hey I need to know how to get rid of him.  They said because he is not on your lease we could issue him a trespass notice.  And thats what they did.  And he got physical again and I called the police, and they escorted him from the property giving up his key and everything.  He was gone.  A few days later his sister called and said she was coming to get some of his stuff, and she did.  And then a few days after that she called again saying that he was coming with her to get the rest.  I said sure.  They came, he took his stuff, and his stuff only, and he was gone.  I had literally kicked the addiction right out of my life.  It was that simple.  And for the first time in 4 and a half years, I felt like I could breathe.  There was no weight on my chest.  No dry heaves.  By some divine intervention of me losing my job, it allowed me to see reason.  Though the job thing was just as traumatic, this trauma was long endured, and something clicked in me.

Its over right.  I kicked him out of my life for good.  Its doneHA, yeah I wish.  While I was struggling through living off of unemployment and not being able to find a job despite of how well I was at everything that I did, the messages started flowing in from a new Facebook account.  Not the Tom that I had already blocked but a Thomas, clever prick.  Started with the same ole stuff, that he was sorry and he didnt mean to relapse.  And I ignored him, the consistent response was that he needed to stop contacting me.  Then he started calling, from random numbers and blaring and screaming the most randomness of shit.  He called my parents also, like 3 oclock in the morning. Higher than a kite making absolutely no sense at all.  Then one day while talking to my sister in law on the phone after just receiving a whole bunch of Facebook messages from him, I wondered if he had turned off the GPS marker on his Facebook messenger.  He hadnt, and while I was 15 minutes from my place, his messenger showed that he was at my place.  I immediately called the police, but when I and they got there.we couldnt find him.  Though neighbors said, someone was pounding on my door.  Which is scared me even more because you need a FAB to get into the building.  My anxiety came back with a crippling blow. Is he really doing this, is he really tormenting me, after everything weve been throughMORE?  I have to endure more.  I closeted myself up for days on end in my apartment while searching for a new job.  One night, at about 2 AM, I was woken by screaming.  And I got that anxiety n my stomach and went towards the screaming.  It was coming from outsidehe was outside my balcony in the apartment complex screaming my name.  The police came and removed him.  Then a week or so later, I was on the app..the app that started it all, and guess who shows up 350 feet away.  I immediately called the office and said search the cameras, figure out how he got in the building.  It was the end of the month and move in day.  But enough was enough, the police caught him this time in the building so he was officially notified by property management that he is not allowed on the premise, and then the police certified that by throwing in their own trespassing notification, and just for measure I went downtown the next day with it all and the messenger and filed a restraining order.  I was granted within the day.

Hes gone now, who knows where doing god knows what.  And frankly I dont care.  Because a short month after the restraining order I received an offer from a new company.and started a new job, making way more than I was before with only about an 8^th of the stress level, and honestly career wise, I couldnt be happier.  But those months without a job, and without him in my life, were by far the hardest moments I think.  Yes even harder than going through what I went through with him.  I had a very very short list of friends and family through out that time, that without, well lets just say I probably wouldnt be alive today to talk about all this.  And for them, I am eternally blessed.

Though its done, and I have moved on, and I got this amazing job and have travel the country with my new job, new car, new cats, new furniture, I have my candid moments where I kind of feel like Frodo at the end of Lord of the Rings..  For those of you that dont know Frodo, was tasked to do this great service for his world, and only he could do it, and it was a heavy cross to bear that put him through anything and everything under the sun all in the period of a year.  And at the end of it, the High Elves of the realm granted him access to the Grey Havens, which is quintessentially heaven.  Not because they thought he deserved to lose his life, but because that they felt, that he had lived his life, he served his role and played it perfectly so much that there is nothing left for him on this earth, so he gets the reward to move on.  With nothing but peace, serenity and White Shores.

That is how I feel, still almost a year and a half later. Like my soul has endured all that it has meant to endure and that there is nothing more for me here.  But obviously there is no Grey Havens, frick there are no elves for that matter either.but its the emptiness that keeps me awake some nights still.  And I still am left to question, how do you pick up the strands of an unwoven life?  The fact of the matter is that you cantYou pick the ones that need to be picked and start a new tapestry of life.  Built on the foundations of the last.  Though the memories endure, you are preoccupied by the work off starting over, or starting again, or starting for the first time it feels like. So for those that are stuck and for those that feel what I feel, or those of you that are reading for a friend that you know is going through something like this.  Please..dont worry so much.  Life is fleeting, and if you are ever distressed, reach out, to a brother, a mother, a friend, a stranger, talk it through, close your eyes, make a wish, think of me, and then go back out and make yourself a spectacular life.  I know I am.