After All the Abuse, I Cannot Get Him Out My Head. My Love For An Abusive Crackhead

When I was 18, I met a guy who I instantly fell in love with. I moved 15 hours away to be live with him and I felt like I had met my soulmate. I could accept his flaws and he treated me like gold, but something was amiss. I knew he messed with some drugs to "party" but I had no idea the extent of his addictions.

A friend of his told me he used to smoke crack. I didn't believe it but asked my boyfriend about it and his reaction was so strange. He freaked out at his friend, made her call me and tell me it was all a lie and forbid me to talk to her. He swore it was not true.

Several months later I went out of town for 3 weeks and when I returned he had changed. He had boarded up windows, the house was filthy, he hadn't been going to work. Some neighbors said he was playing "crackhead games" - I had never known a crackhead and he comes from a good family. I was in denial.

He was wickedly mean to me, cruel and abusive both mentally and physically. He would steal my bank card when I slept and draw money to buy drugs, then scream and threaten me when I confronted him.

Finally he admitted he had been smoking crack with the neighbors. We had been together about a year, I assumed our relationship was over. I couldn't fathom sleeping in the same bed as a crackhead, having sex with him ever again or even kissing him on the mouth where a crack pipe had gone.

He refused to let me leave. He threatened to kill me, he would hit me to show me he was serious. I felt my spirit slowly dying. He claimed to quit and was only taking prescription pills and doing cocaine, for some reason, after crack these didn't seem so bad - what was I thinking?? Random men would show up at the door collecting debt he owed and this scared me.

We lived in a dangerous area and he was earning a bad rep. I began to believe that he had quit smoking crack but the abuse continued. Suddenly he felt like it was ok to hit me, bust my lip, whatever, if I protested to him buying drugs. He would ask me to hold his money and make me promise not to give it to him to buy drugs, however when his fists flew, I would give it up.

His parents told me he was bi-polar and had been addicted to various drugs since he was 16. He would binge on a few drugs for a few months and then switch it up. I absolutely hated him. I could leave undercover but I was so brainwashed I believed he really did need me and when he would threaten suicide and shoot a round into the wall, I believed he was serious and I had no choice. Being prisoner to him made me hate him more and I began to hate myself for being with him.

I had no friends and saw my family once a year because I was too afraid to leave him alone. Around the second year of our relationship my dad became ill with cancer and I decided to move to be with him. I didn't know what would happen with my boyfriend, I thought the relationship would fizzle out but it didn't. Away from him I realized how co-dependant I had become on him. Emotionally and financially.

After a 5 month break I went back to him. We moved out into the country and away from all the dealers - or so I thought. Our relationship was going well at first but when the drugs came back so did the roller-coaster.

He began to disappear for hours and I knew he wasn't with another girl because when he came back he would be bug-eyed and speechless, jittery and nervous. I went to his truck and looked in his stash spot and found what I had hoped I wouldn't ... a crack pipe. It was his third relapse in 2 years. I screamed and cried and threatened but despite what he said he didn't stop.

He claimed that crack made him "feel like God" - I can't understand how something so demonic like crack can disguise itself as God. I truly loved this man after all of this and I wanted so much to help him and make him the guy he used to be. I couldn't. I had failed so many times.

He continued to abuse me and drugs, waste thousands of dollars in a few days of binging and destroy himself. I told him I was leaving if he didn't quit. He never quit. Up until the day before I moved he was still using crack, xanax, hydrocodone, methadone, crystal meth, everything!!

I moved several states away and at first we spoke daily but he was constantly high. It hurt more to not be there. I was so scared for him. I had become his caretaker and now he had no one. After the first few weeks of him crying and begging me to come back, its like he just quit caring about me. He wouldn't stay on the phone for more then a minute, it was like he didn't want me in his life anymore.

What hurt most was that he WAS my whole life. I had abandoned my friends, family, hobbies etc. to fuss over him and now I don't even know how to take care of myself. It has been almost 3 months since I left and I still well up with tears when I think about him. I know I am safer and better off without him but I feel like I invested so much into nothing. Why doesn't he care?? Why doesn't he hurt??

We lived together for almost 4 years and he feels nothing. When we were together he was always the one who "cared more" he clung on to me, told me how beautiful I was, how much he loved me etc. I was detached although I truly cared. I am so confused why things changed so much. Can drugs really take that kind of pain away. I have lost my boyfriend and my best friend and I'm beginning to think I meant nothing to him all along.

I cannot date other guys because I cannot stand them being nice to me, I find it fake and repulsive. We only talk every few days now and if I bring up our relationship or anything he gets mad and hangs up. I need to move on for myself. I feel like his drug problem has damaged me more than him.

After 3 and a half years of having a selfish addiction that destroyed my spirit, this man cannot even help me find some closure. I stuck it out until I felt like my life was physically in danger, now I have a broken heart, where did I go wrong?

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