Helping A Loved One Who Is Still Struggling

Let me just start by saying I'm not an expert.

I'm just someone who has lived this struggle from both sides of the coin. I was once the one deep in the trenches of active addiction, and I’ve also been the one loving an addict.

If you're reading this, you know the territory. You know that agonizing, frustrating, and often hopeless feeling. It’s the feeling that you’ve done absolutely everything—sacrificed your finances, your peace of mind, and your emotional stability—and yet, the struggle continues.

If you’ve ever watched someone you love continue to struggle despite your prayers, your encouragement, or even your boundaries… you know how emotionally draining it can be. You want to help, but sometimes it feels like nothing you do is enough.

If I could impart one single, vital message to you, it would be this: Never lose hope.

The miracle you are praying for may feel impossibly far away, but as someone who's been on that destination of destruction, I can tell you that a change of heart is always possible.

The Destination of Destruction

For years, I was on that path. My life became one consistent downhill spiral. From the very beginning of my party days, up until I was using heroin and ended up on the streets - my parents were all that I had.

I put them through hell.

My parents, bless their hearts, were so desperate to find that one "magic answer" that would finally fix me. They sent me to every program imaginable. I went to inpatient and outpatient centers, saw countless therapists and counselors, they enrolled me in a troubled teen wilderness program and shipped me off to boot camp, and I even spent time in jail.

They did everything they were supposed to do. Yet, none of it seemed to be the answer.

Why? Because the answer wasn't a program, a place, or a person; it was a willingness within me that hadn't yet been there.

What I Think Worked and What Didn't

Looking back now, with the clarity of sobriety, I have a few takeaways about what moved the needle and what only created more stress.

What Didn't Work (But is a Natural Impulse):

• Trying to "Fix" Me: My loved ones trying to control my every move, micromanage my life, or solve my problems for me only fueled my resentment and my urge to rebel and hide.

• The Emotional Rollercoaster: Reacting to every relapse or crisis with extreme emotional turmoil only made them more exhausted and me more shame-filled.

• Throwing Money at the Problem: Funding my addiction (even indirectly through paying rent or covering bills) was simply enabling.

What Worked (and Planted a Seed):

• Unconditional Love with a Firm Line: The times they were able to separate the person (me) from the disease (addiction) and simply say, "I love you, and because I love you, I will not watch you destroy yourself," truly stuck with me.

• Hitting My True "Rock Bottom": My parents had to watch me hit this point without intervention—seeing me lose housing, facing criminal charges, and being completely out of options. While painful for everyone, this experience was the absolute, undeniable proof I needed that my life was unmanageable. It was in those non-negotiable moments where the pain of staying the same finally started to became greater than the fear of changing.

• Patience and Small Wins: They celebrated genuine attempts and small periods of sobriety without making them into monumental, pressure-filled events.

The Turn Point: The Work Belongs to the Addict

This is perhaps the hardest truth to accept: It is up to the addict to put the work in and make the attempts to change. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

For me, things started to click when I finally removed myself from my environment. I made a huge geographical change—I was given the opportunity and moved states away. This gave me the space I needed to break old routines and step away from the relationships that fueled my disease.

Most importantly, I established a support system that met me where I was at. I stopped seeking the "perfect" recovery and started seeking the real one. I found people who understood my specific struggles, who didn't judge my past attempts, and helped me reestablish a genuine desire to want to start living again.

Helpful Ways to Approach Someone Who Is Still Struggling

So, how can you help?

1. Set Firm, Clear Boundaries and Stick to Them

This is super important. Boundaries are not meant to punish the addict; they are meant to protect you and ensure you are not enabling the disease. Write them down and communicate them clearly.

• Example Boundary: "I will not give you money for any reason, but I will pay for a taxi to a support meeting or a doctor's appointment."

• The Rule: Once a boundary is set, you must stick to it. Your loved one will test it, and if you cave, the boundary means nothing. Consistency is the language of consequences.

One of my favorite quotes from Tiffany Jenkins is, “There is a difference between enabling and loving. If an addict is happy with you, you are probably enabling. If an addict is angry at you, you’re probably trying to save their life.”

It's natural, even instinctual, to want to see someone we love happy, especially when they're struggling. But, when it comes to a loved one's recovery from addiction, that instinct can become a dangerous trap. Setting and holding boundaries is perhaps the most profound act of love you can give.

2. Educate Yourself on the Disease of Addiction
It was incredibly difficult to bridge the gap in understanding with my parents. Since they’ve never struggled with addiction—they don't even drink casually —they simply could not grasp why I couldn’t just stop.

To them, the logic was straightforward: if something was causing me so much pain and so many problems, why would I continue doing it? Their solution was a heartfelt but frustrating "just stop."

They interpreted my struggle as a lack of respect for them, a selfish desire to continuing “partying” and “having fun”, or a deliberate path of self-destruction, rather than the true nature of my addiction.

This fundamental misunderstanding created a massive disconnect between us, leaving me feeling isolated and without the critical support I needed most during that active time of my disease.

Addiction is a chronic disease, not a moral failing. Read books, go to support groups, and understand the cycle of relapse and recovery. When you understand the science of addiction, you are more likely to react with compassion and clarity instead of anger and fear.

3. Practice Radical Acceptance

Radical acceptance means acknowledging the reality of the situation: your loved one is an addict, and you cannot control their choices. This does not mean you approve or resign yourself to an unhappy life; it means you are no longer fighting the reality that currently exists. This frees up your energy to focus on what you can control: your own response and your own well-being.

4. Get Your Own Support

You cannot pour from an empty cup. You need your own space to process the pain, anger, and grief that comes with loving an addict. Look into Al-Anon, Nar-Anon, or Co-Dependents Anonymous (CoDA). These groups will teach you tools for detachment, setting boundaries, and, most importantly, how to reclaim your own life.

5. Practice Loving Detachment

Loving detachment means you care deeply about your loved one, but you detach from their decisions and their consequences. You let go of the need to control their outcome. You continue to offer love and emotional support without allowing their disease to dictate your happiness or stability.

The journey is long, exhausting, and heartbreaking at times. But please, take it from someone who was the "lost cause": Your love matters, but your well-being matters too. By taking care of yourself and holding a firm line, you are not closing the door; you are holding a stronger, clearer space for them to eventually walk into.

Keep the hope alive. It is worth fighting for <3