Relational Trauma: The Possible Effects of Loving an Addict

Ever find yourself Googling “How to recover from someone else’s addiction” at 2 a.m. while eating handfuls of Goldfish?

Yeah, me too.

I didn’t quite give up the Goldfish, but I did give up the Googling.

Eventually.

Today we're talking about hypervigilance, some of the emotions you may experience as the loved one of someone struggling with addiction, and the early signs of relational trauma.

This is the second post in the series. You can find the first part here.

This post isn’t just for loved ones, though. If you're struggling with addiction, understanding what your partner may be experiencing can help you understand some of their reactions after disclosure or broken trust.

Get ready for some tools, exercises, and reminders that your healing matters too.

And, of course, my usual touch of snark.

Because I know I needed to laugh during some incredibly challenging moments, and I'm guessing some of you do too.

I Became Addicted to My Ex-Husband's Addiction

For some of us, loving someone with an addiction can become consuming.

For me, it went even further.

I became addicted to my ex-husband’s addiction.

I remember saying that to someone who was going through the same thing with her husband, and she immediately said:

“That’s it! That’s exactly how I feel!”

I watched my ex-husband’s every move.

I questioned his interactions with his sponsor.

I obsessed over his recovery.

I checked.

I monitored.

I investigated.

And eventually, I realized I was shifting some of my own addictive behaviors onto his addiction.

Yikes on bikes!

I was on a slippery slope in my own recovery and didn’t even know it.

Where’s my Frog in the Water parable?

But there's something I understand better now.

My hypervigilance didn't appear out of nowhere.

Trust had been shattered.

I was desperately trying to figure out whether what I was being told was actually true.

I wanted certainty.

And checking gave me the illusion that if I looked hard enough, monitored closely enough, or found enough information, I could somehow get that certainty.

Except I couldn't.

And the more I checked, the more I needed to check.

I eventually had to wean myself away from those behaviors in much the same way I'd had to step away from other addictive behaviors in my life.

That wasn't easy.

What Hypervigilance Looked Like for Me

After disclosure, if you looked up hypervigilance, you would’ve seen my face right there next to the definition because I ticked off every box.

And with each passing day, it seemed to get worse.

I watched the clock.

Was he at his meeting yet? Counseling? Work?

I used the primary bathroom instead of the hallway bathroom so I could see if he was really working and not looking at pornography.

I created a fake social media account so I could look up people he'd contacted.

Then I repeatedly looked at their pictures.

Before all was said and done, I knew way too much about them.

That's just a few things.

Looking back, I can understand why I was doing those things without pretending they were helping me heal.

That's an important distinction.

I had experienced betrayal.

My brain was looking for danger and trying to prevent me from being blindsided again.

But eventually, all that checking and monitoring started taking more from me than it was giving me.

And that's when I had to start figuring out how to turn some of my attention away from his recovery and back toward my own.

Stepping Away From Hypervigilance Doesn't Mean Blind Trust

This is important.

Reducing hypervigilance does not mean you have to convince yourself everything is okay.

It doesn't mean ignoring your instincts.

It doesn't mean automatically trusting someone who has broken your trust.

And it doesn't mean overlooking behavior happening right in front of you.

For me, stepping away from hypervigilance meant learning that I didn't have to investigate every possibility or monitor another adult's recovery every minute of the day.

I could pay attention to what was actually happening.

I could have boundaries.

I could notice patterns.

I could make decisions based on someone's behavior.

And ultimately, I could decide whether the relationship was still healthy for me.

Whether you choose to stay in a relationship or leave, your healing still belongs to you.

Ways Loved Ones Can Navigate Hypervigilance and Healing

Identify Your Own Patterns

Start noticing where your attention is going.

Are you spending more time monitoring someone else's recovery than tending to your own healing?

What does your checking look like?

Maybe you're:

• Watching the clock

• Checking locations

• Searching social media

• Looking through devices

• Repeatedly asking for reassurance

• Watching facial expressions or body language

• Trying to figure out whether someone is telling the truth

• Replaying conversations looking for clues

This isn't about judging yourself for doing those things.

Take a moment to explore what's underneath them.

What are you trying to find?

Certainty?

Safety?

Proof?

Reassurance?

Information?

And is the behavior actually giving you what you're looking for?

Exercise Opportunity

Ask yourself:

What have I done for my own healing or recovery today?

Then ask:

Have I done anything today to manage someone else's recovery?

If so, take a closer look at that.

Is it actually yours to do?

You’re not responsible for anyone’s recovery or healing except your own.

Set Healthy Boundaries

This was something I had to learn.

My early attempts at boundaries sometimes came from fear and became controlling.

Eventually, I started understanding the difference between a need, a request, and a boundary.

For example:

“I need honesty in this relationship.”

That's a need.

“I need you to tell me if you've had a setback.”

That's a request.

The boundary is what I will do if something happens.

One of my boundaries was around lying.

If my ex-husband lied to me, he had to sleep in another room because sharing a room with him after he'd lied caused me anxiety.

The boundary wasn't:

“You're not allowed to lie.”

I couldn't control whether he lied.

It was:

“If you lie to me, I will not share a bedroom with you.”

That's something I could control.

Boundaries aren't about managing another person's behavior.

They're about deciding what you will do to protect your own well-being when something happens.

Exercise Opportunity

Think about something that's important to you in your relationship.

Is it a need?

A request?

Or a boundary?

If it's a boundary, what action will you take if that boundary is crossed?

And is there anything making it difficult for you to follow through?

Seek Support

You do not have to figure all of this out by yourself.

Some people find support through counseling or groups such as Al-Anon, Nar-Anon, S-Anon, or other recovery and betrayal-trauma communities.

Some recovery platforms also offer support groups.

But here's something else I learned:

Not every support space will be right for you.

I attended a meeting that didn't resonate with me and then isolated for too long afterward.

Later, I surrounded myself with people who weren't healthy for me, and that didn't help either.

What I eventually needed were people who could support my healing without telling me what decision I should make about my marriage.

I didn't need someone insisting I stay.

I didn't need someone insisting I leave.

And I didn't need every conversation to turn into bashing my partner.

I needed room to figure out what I wanted.

Your support system might include a counselor, sponsor, trusted friend, recovery group, coach, or some combination of those.

Exercise Opportunity

Write down your go-to people.

Who makes up your Healing Hive?

Who can listen without trying to make your decisions for you?

Is there additional support you'd like to have?

What's one step you could take toward building that support system?

Practice Self-Care

Engage in activities that bring you peace, enjoyment, or fulfillment.

Reading.

Yoga.

Art.

Dancing.

Hello, Quest!

Gardening.

Going for a walk.

Watching something ridiculous.

Whatever works for you.

And try to let yourself actually be there while you're doing it.

That was difficult for me.

I'd supposedly be relaxing while still watching the clock and thinking about what my ex-husband was doing.

If you're familiar with Veep, there’s a scene where Amy is supposed to destress. She goes to a spa for something like seven minutes and declares herself “cured.”

That was me for a while.

Okay! I relaxed! Are we done now?

Not exactly how that works.

Exercise Opportunity

What brings you peace or enjoyment?

Are you making any room for it in your day or week?

If not, what's one small way you could?

Journal Without Needing It to Make Sense

Write about your emotions without judging yourself for them.

Try asking:

“What can I do for my healing today?”

If that doesn’t resonate with you, set a timer for five minutes and write whatever comes to mind.

Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense.

Just get it out of your head.

Technically, we could call it brainstorming.

I call it word vomiting.

You can also use journaling prompts if staring at a blank page makes your brain suddenly forget every thought you've ever had.

A Question I Wish I'd Asked Myself Earlier

When you're hypervigilant, so much of your attention can become focused outward.

What are they doing?

Where are they?

Are they telling me the truth?

Are they working their recovery?

What does that text mean?

Why did they say it like that?

Those questions aren't ridiculous.

When trust has been broken, wanting answers makes sense.

But there's another set of questions worth asking too:

What is all of this doing to me?

How do I feel in this relationship?

What do I need?

What am I willing to live with?

What am I not willing to live with?

Am I making decisions based on what's actually happening, or am I spending all my energy trying to predict what might happen?

Is this relationship healthy for me?

Those questions bring the focus back to the person whose recovery and healing you can manage.

You.

Final Thoughts

If you're experiencing hypervigilance after addiction, betrayal, or broken trust, you don't need to shame yourself for checking, questioning, or trying desperately to make sense of what happened.

I did a whole lot of it.

Understanding why I was doing it helped me begin changing it.

But reducing my hypervigilance didn't mean I stopped paying attention.

It meant I slowly stopped trying to monitor another person's recovery and started paying more attention to my own.

That's a very different thing.

You can heal and still have boundaries.

You can stop checking and still pay attention to patterns.

You can stop investigating and still decide someone's behavior isn't okay with you.

You can understand why someone struggles with addiction and still decide you don't want to live with the effects of their choices.

And whether you ultimately stay or leave, your healing matters too.

Recognizing that something isn't right in your relationship can be scary as fuck.

Searching for answers can be scary.

Reading something that makes you recognize yourself can be scary.

Taking that first tiny step toward doing something about it can be scary.

So yes, if you're here reading this because some part of you knows something needs your attention, you're already doing brave work.

You don't have to know what you're going to do next.

You can start by asking:

What can I do for my healing today?

Let’s Stay Connected

If this resonates with you, I’d really love to know. You can comment below or email me. You’re also invited to join other Bookenders on Reddit.

And if you’re looking for deeper exercises, I wrote Bookends of Recovery & Healing Workbook to help you heal from betrayal trauma and addiction by using creative exercises, action tools, and guided reflection.

Warmly,
Laura 🌻