Culture of Addiction

Loving one person and being loved by that person is the most important thing for your happiness, or even life. We hear this everyday. We see this everywhere, so regularly that the thought begins to come to us without our even being aware of it. And it’s so hard to escape this concept when you’re being beaten on the head with it constantly. I thought I wouldn’t give into this and that it couldn’t affect me. But then something changed. I felt warmth and gentleness and an overall happy emotion toward another. He was there and we talked, quite often as it happens. And then he was on my mind. And then we talked endlessly- if not in person then over the phone. I was in love. Except rather than a slowly nurtured love through goodness, cooperation and understanding, it was music, movies and an overall hypersexual culture that supported that feeling. My surroundings taught me to embrace the release of endorphins, the rush of adrenaline that my partner gave me. It turned a tool of binding and strength of two people coalescing into one unit into an addiction of one individual through another. Society fostered this addiction- my ‘true love’, ‘the one’, ‘my only’, and although I may not have fully bought into these ideas (they are silly and juvenile after all), I allowed myself to be addicted. I hurled the weight of my happiness entirely on another person. I fully believed I could no longer live a happy life without him.

I’m not sure I need to describe this as so many others have already been through it. But in short, you have found your life partner. Someone who cares for you to a point of fear. Fear because you can’t understand how someone else could depend so completely on you. And then that fear is multiplied when you realize that the dependency has been transferred over to you. You feel that no one in the world could understand what you’re experiencing. If they did, everyone would be in heaven. So what was the point of earth?

It flamed quickly. We were married and within a few years the honeymoon was over and reality set in. We weren’t in heaven anymore. I think I was more prepared. I understood financial strains and was expecting them. But it was secondary to the happiness he gave me. Unfortunately, these pressures squeezed him too tight to bear. He couldn’t handle it anymore and he wanted out. We divorced. The process of mentioning divorce, discussing it at length, separating, and finally agreeing on it took a couple of months. So even when the words came out of his mouth, I was still in shock. It was all too fast. How could he- after repeating ‘I love you’ every day for five years- just want out? I’m still not sure to this day, but that’s not the issue here. What happened was for the best and it was an invaluable experience I wouldn’t take back because of what it taught me. I could write volumes on that so instead I’ll focus on one (and not even the most prominent) thing.

I observed my own feelings on separation. I thought I was going to go crazy and to be honest there was a time there where I lost it. Blank periods I can’t remember. And then flashes of clarity where the pain came flooding through me, at times overwhelming. And then it dawned on me. I was addicted. I was addicted and had been going through withdrawal. I’m sure someone somewhere has something out there on this. But I didn’t read it when I decided to love him. I wish I did, because then I’d know loving so fiercely is not ok. Throwing yourself in his arms because he says he can’t live without you is wrong. No matter what Maroon 5 may say about it. No matter how persuasive Twilight may be about it. Love is not a flash or explosion. Because those are characterized by a moment of glorious light and then sudden darkness. This is for all my sisters who don’t want to experience that darkness. Don’t give in to a culture of addiction.