I was starving for love and especially to have someone I could
love. I was a young mother of a darling, two-year-old daughter and
recently freed from a loveless marriage that had lasted all of four
years when I met him. He was cute and charming and blond and blue-eyed
and completely captivating.
I fell hard. Best of all, he was attracted to me too!
The first three or four months were great. We flirted a lot and he asked me out often. We went dancing and life was fun. I was in love and all was well with the world. I discovered a firey passion that took my breath away and I never wanted it to end. I ignored his flaws and concentrated only on the good in him and this was fine for awhile.
He had told me he was a cocaine addict, but that he had it under control and like a fool, I believed him; at first. Then, he would take off for days without a word and show up on my doorstep looking gaunt and sheepish and begging me for money to pay off his "source" so he wouldn't get his legs broken. He would cry and beg for my forgiveness and swear to never do it again. Because I loved him, I chose to believe him and help him out.
A few times, he took my car and disappeared for two or three agonizing days and nights when I'd worry and cry and suffer, then later get so angry that I'd throw all his belongings out on the front porch for him to pick up when he once again came back to beg me to save him and take him back. Making promises that he couldn't keep and apologizing for things that he shouldn't have done in the first place. This became the pattern of our lives for the next two and a half years.
His addiction wasn't the only thing that bothered me. After witnessing repeated fights between him and his mother and sisters, He was always picking fights, I had to acknowledge that he really didn't have any respect for women.
His humour bit into my self esteem. He was a compulsive liar and lied to everyone. If he had spent his rent money on drugs, he's tell his landlord that he had given it to me and I had spent it. It didn't occur to him how much this kind of thing hurt me. He was just covering his own sorry ass. He started yelling at me and blaming me for his weakness because I wasn't trying hard enough.
I did try, I tried so hard to fix things, to hold it all together, to save him, but in the end, I had a nervous breakdown and ran away to a shelter to get away from him. For two days, I couldn't speak and just listened to the councelors tell me that if I stayed with him, nothing would change. I cried for three days straight after that. Not quiet tears of silent suffering, but loud, gasping, heart wrenching sobbing that ripped me apart.
I was told that people can only love you as much as they love themselves and I know that he hated himself, so how could he possibly love me? I thought I could love him enough for the both of us. I thought if I could just love him enough, I could save him. I didn't save him.
I nearly destroyed myself and I had to ask my ex-husband to take our daughter because I feared for her safety. After returning home from the shelter, I tried for months to get my addict boyfriend out of my life, but he didn't take me seriously. He thought I was just going through some female hormone thing. It wasn't going to be over until he said it was over.
When I had mentally and emotionally withdrawn from him, I met a wonderful, gentle, loving man who accepted me as I was; damaged but recovering. I married him. The first three years, my ex-boyfriend made our lives a living hell and my husband stood by me through it all. He didn't have to. He could have left at the first sign of trouble, but he didn't. After fifteen years, we are still together.
I recovered from those three years of pain, anguish, fear and abuse to hopefully emerge as a wiser, stronger person. Having the love and strength of a good man was probably a major factor in my recovery. I am grateful for the lessons I learned and, yes, I am also grateful for that short period where I experienced real passion. Everyone should have that chance. I loved a cocaine addict and survived.
I fell hard. Best of all, he was attracted to me too!
The first three or four months were great. We flirted a lot and he asked me out often. We went dancing and life was fun. I was in love and all was well with the world. I discovered a firey passion that took my breath away and I never wanted it to end. I ignored his flaws and concentrated only on the good in him and this was fine for awhile.
He had told me he was a cocaine addict, but that he had it under control and like a fool, I believed him; at first. Then, he would take off for days without a word and show up on my doorstep looking gaunt and sheepish and begging me for money to pay off his "source" so he wouldn't get his legs broken. He would cry and beg for my forgiveness and swear to never do it again. Because I loved him, I chose to believe him and help him out.
A few times, he took my car and disappeared for two or three agonizing days and nights when I'd worry and cry and suffer, then later get so angry that I'd throw all his belongings out on the front porch for him to pick up when he once again came back to beg me to save him and take him back. Making promises that he couldn't keep and apologizing for things that he shouldn't have done in the first place. This became the pattern of our lives for the next two and a half years.
His addiction wasn't the only thing that bothered me. After witnessing repeated fights between him and his mother and sisters, He was always picking fights, I had to acknowledge that he really didn't have any respect for women.
His humour bit into my self esteem. He was a compulsive liar and lied to everyone. If he had spent his rent money on drugs, he's tell his landlord that he had given it to me and I had spent it. It didn't occur to him how much this kind of thing hurt me. He was just covering his own sorry ass. He started yelling at me and blaming me for his weakness because I wasn't trying hard enough.
I did try, I tried so hard to fix things, to hold it all together, to save him, but in the end, I had a nervous breakdown and ran away to a shelter to get away from him. For two days, I couldn't speak and just listened to the councelors tell me that if I stayed with him, nothing would change. I cried for three days straight after that. Not quiet tears of silent suffering, but loud, gasping, heart wrenching sobbing that ripped me apart.
I was told that people can only love you as much as they love themselves and I know that he hated himself, so how could he possibly love me? I thought I could love him enough for the both of us. I thought if I could just love him enough, I could save him. I didn't save him.
I nearly destroyed myself and I had to ask my ex-husband to take our daughter because I feared for her safety. After returning home from the shelter, I tried for months to get my addict boyfriend out of my life, but he didn't take me seriously. He thought I was just going through some female hormone thing. It wasn't going to be over until he said it was over.
When I had mentally and emotionally withdrawn from him, I met a wonderful, gentle, loving man who accepted me as I was; damaged but recovering. I married him. The first three years, my ex-boyfriend made our lives a living hell and my husband stood by me through it all. He didn't have to. He could have left at the first sign of trouble, but he didn't. After fifteen years, we are still together.
I recovered from those three years of pain, anguish, fear and abuse to hopefully emerge as a wiser, stronger person. Having the love and strength of a good man was probably a major factor in my recovery. I am grateful for the lessons I learned and, yes, I am also grateful for that short period where I experienced real passion. Everyone should have that chance. I loved a cocaine addict and survived.
Sometimes we get involved with the wrong guy and we pay a high
price for that mistake. Find out how you can attract the Right man into
your life and stop wasting your time on losers.
http://selfhelprelationshipsandmarriage.yolasite.com
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