I met the man of my dreams 3 years ago he pursued me for over a year. flowers left at my door, notes on my car windscreen it was overwhelming and all consuming. Two months in; he went to collect a £250 deposit on a job at 10am he didn’t come home until 11pm. He was crying and begging me to forgive him he had spent the money on cocaine after bumping in to an old friend. His father rang me on the Monday and asked what had happened; he told me he had a past problem with the real hard stuff before; if only he had used the word ‘Crack’. I had no idea what he meant, I had no knowledge or experience of drugs at all.
What I later learnt was that he’d had a crack addiction on and off for 20 years. Both his previous partners picked up the habit with him, he would use their money until it was gone, and then go off and use his own for binges. They both lost everything, one of them blew her £30,000 inheritance in 3 months with him. I thought they were just bitter, neither of them told me about the ‘Crack’ and none of his family were truthful, not even now.
He hid his use from me and I honestly had no idea he was using Crack. To look at him you would never guess his secret.
After the one early binge it didn’t happen again until a year later; the day before our wedding - when he disappeared in the afternoon and turned up at 8:30am on the day after spending £400. I was adamant the wedding was off; but he cried, broke down, he was distraught and hysterical, pleaded and I fell for it and the wedding went ahead. Despite what had happened It was the best day ever.
Things returned to normal or so I thought.
A month later he disappeared for the night again, and this became a regular pattern -disappear/£300/beg forgiveness. Gradually the stories emerged from his family about the repeat pattern of his behaviour; difference was I was not going to do it with him. He would always go to the same crack house and he was the only one who worked or had a vehicle so he became the cash cow for two manipulating addicts who called him their ‘Brotherling’ they spiked his crack with heroin; he was so disgusted with himself he cut his wrists and I sat with him in hospital whilst they stitched him up crying just wanting this chaos to all end. He hated himself and was adamant he would leave it all behind. He was so far In by now he was doing crack every day, trying to hide it from me, taking pregablin, Valium and benzodiazepines to cope with the come down and in turn they were making the come downs worse. He hated himself but just could not stop.
He spoke to a GP who told him to brave it out and take paracetamol for the withdrawals.
I hated his addiction but I loved him. He said all the time he just wanted a normal life away from it all. He told me he loved me everyday and would cry all the time about how ashamed he was and how much he hated himself.
He went to turning point to get help but because of the pandemic services were limited.
I was distraught I had lost my soul mate but I knew I had to leave.
I knew I was enabling him by keeping normal life going whilst he had his sideline; that was essentially killing him and me.
Life with a crack addict is horrific the nights when they disappear you worry that they have come to harm.
you hate them for choosing the drug instead of the amazing life you could have had together and the love and times you have shared.
You are going to work exhausted with stress and worry; as they come home and crash out on the sofa for the day.
Everything is pure chaos and changes who you are forever. I don't think I will ever trust again
I wake up every night feeling anxious and guilty for leaving him
Will this feeling ever pass
He was the love of my life but Crack was his; and is stronger than anything
it truly is The Devil Drug