How to Stop Worrying About Someone in Addiction

How do you stop worrying about someone in addiction? I can't teach you that. Nobody honest can, and anybody selling you calm is selling you something.

I was the son. Sixteen years sober now. So instead of a method, let me give you what I actually have, which is the view from the inside.

This is lived experience from one recovery, not medical advice.

The job nobody assigned her

My mom was a stay-at-home mom. She held our house together. And while I was using, she worried about me around the clock, because the danger felt around the clock. There was no hour of the day when the worst thing couldn't happen, so there was no hour of the day when she was off.

Her body took that job and worked it every hour. No shift end. No days off.

And it was never her job.

I want to sit on that last line, because it's the one that matters whether you're a mom, a wife, a husband, a brother, or a friend. The worry feels like a post you can't abandon. Like if you stop holding the watch, something slips through. That's how it felt for her too. It's how it feels for almost everyone who loves someone in addiction.

What the worry could and couldn't do

Here's what I know from my side of it. Her worry never decided whether I lived. Nothing she did or didn't do decided that.

That's not cold. That's the thing that lets you put the job down.

If the worrying were actually keeping your person alive, then putting it down would be dangerous, and no one could ask you to. But it isn't. It never was. The worry was real and the love inside it was real, but it wasn't a shift being covered. Nothing broke through to me because someone stayed up. And nothing that eventually turned me around came from the hours she spent afraid.

What I actually remember

What I remember isn't the worry. What I remember is that she was still standing when I came back to myself.

When I got sober at 24 and moved home, what mattered wasn't that she'd suffered enough on my behalf. It was that there was still a her to come back to. A person, not a wreckage. Whatever of yourself you can keep, keep it. Not because your person needs a lesson, but because if there's a day after this one, you'll want to be there for it as yourself.

If your person didn't come back

And if your son didn't come back, or your husband, or whoever it was you carried this for, I need you to hear the middle of this again. Nothing you did or didn't do decided that. That was true for my mom and it is true for you.

The worry was never the thing keeping them alive, which means the outcome was never proof you didn't worry enough, or watch enough, or love enough. It wasn't a job you failed. It was never your job at all.

If things are heavy right now

If you have questions about treatment or just need guidance as a family member, SAMHSA's free helpline is open 24/7 at 1-800-662-4357. If you or someone you love is in crisis, call or text 988, or text HOME to 741741. There's no situation too small to call about.

Why Haven exists

My mom carried all of that with no support. Nothing existed for her while I was using, and I've never forgotten it. Haven is the app I'm building for the people doing the worrying, and it opens August 24. If you want it, the waitlist is at joinprojecthaven.com.