Loving Someone in Addiction - When Enough Has to Be Enough

What I Learned from Loving and Losing My Sister

From the moment she came into our home...three days old, blue-eyed and wiggly...I was smitten. Kelly wasn’t born from our mother’s body, but from our family’s heart. I was twelve years old, and she was ours. I used to lift her from her crib in our shared bedroom and let her sleep on my chest, her little hand curled against my collarbone like she knew I’d protect her for life.

And I did.
Until I couldn’t anymore.

Addiction is a shapeshifter. It moves into someone you love, quietly at first. It wraps around their brilliance, their humor, their beauty. Kelly had all of that. She was magnetic. She lit up rooms. She built a business, raised a brilliant daughter, made friends everywhere she went. And still… addiction waited in the shadows.

We didn't know, back then, how deep addiction’s roots can go. Kelly's birth mother used during her pregnancy, which research now tells us can alter a baby's developing brain and nervous system. That’s not an excuse. But it helps explain why, by the time Kelly was 13, it felt like a switch had flipped. That craving for danger, the pull toward substances...things other kids could experiment with and walk away from...hooked into her like claws.

She could go years without using. Years where she was thriving. But when the stress built up or life took a hard turn, the relapse came fast and brutal. And it wasn’t just one time. There were many relapses. And dozens of returns. AA. Rehab. Detox. And every time, we were there…Mom and I.

Because that’s what you do when someone you love is in trouble. You drive across the state at midnight. You sit on the floor of their bathroom while they shake, hallucinate, and vomit through detox. You answer calls you wish you didn’t get.  You tell them the truth even when it breaks your own heart. And eventually, you set boundaries that feel like betrayal, because the pain of watching someone slowly kill themselves is too much to carry.

I was the sister she called when she was off the rails and needed help.
I was also the sister she hid from when she wasn’t ready to get clean...because I would’ve turned her in or said things she didn’t want to hear if I’d known where she was.

I was also the one who stayed through the hard nights…when she was ready.
And eventually…I was the one who said, “I can’t do this anymore.”

That was the last detox I did with her. The last time I held her hair, held her hand, held her together in a strange hotel room she insisted upon.  Hours later, watching her sleep like an angel. Some months later, she overdosed and died...and we were all heartbroken.

I have lived every version of grief there is...guilt, relief, rage, shame, unbearable heartbreak. If you’re loving someone in active addiction, you know exactly what I mean. You're tired. Confused. You feel helpless and responsible all at once.

Here’s the truth no one tells you:

You can love someone with your whole heart and still not be able to save them.
You can walk away and still love them deeply.
You can let go without giving up.

As author Anne Lamott once wrote, “Sometimes love means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.”

So what can we actually do?

Loving someone through addiction can feel like being swept into their storm. It’s disorienting, scary, and exhausting. But research...and experience...points to a few things that help, both for the person struggling and for those who love them.

1. Don’t go it alone.
Support groups like Al-Anon, Nar-Anon, and Families Anonymous offer a lifeline. These aren’t just for people whose loved ones are in active addiction...these are for you, the one lying awake at night, wondering what more you could have done. You need support, too.

2. Set boundaries with love.
This one is hard. But boundaries aren’t walls...they’re clarity. They say, “I love you and I won’t support your self-destruction.” Addiction experts agree that enabling behaviors (bailing someone out, covering up, giving money) can delay recovery. Boundaries help both of you.

3. Educate yourself.
Understanding addiction as a chronic brain disease...not a moral failing...can change everything. According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, addiction rewires the brain’s reward and control systems. Knowing this helps you respond with clarity instead of shame or blame.

4. Offer hope, not control.
You can’t make someone get clean. But you can say, “I’ll be here when you’re ready to get help.” And mean it. Offering resources like therapists, treatment centers, or sober companions can make a difference...but only when they’re ready.

5. Protect your peace.
Therapists will tell you: You are not responsible for someone else's sobriety. You can love someone and still walk away from the chaos they bring. Taking care of your own mental, emotional, and physical well-being isn’t selfish...it’s survival.

As the saying goes, “You didn’t cause it. You can’t control it. You can’t cure it.” But you can choose how you live alongside it. You can love and let go. You can hope and still protect your heart.

Kelly’s memorial service was standing room only. People filled the halls and the parking lot. She was that special. But even with over a thousand people grieving her, no one knew the full weight of what it took to love her through her addiction. Not like we did.

And still, I would do it again.
Even the hard parts.
Even the goodbyes.

But I would do it now with more grace for myself.
More compassion for the pain I carried.
More permission to say no.
More permission to live, even when she couldn’t.

If you’re in the middle of this...loving someone lost to addiction...I see you. And I know how impossible it feels to hold hope and truth in the same breath. But you’re allowed to. You’re allowed to draw lines. You’re allowed to protect your life. And you’re allowed to keep loving them…from wherever you need to stand to stay whole. I pray that you are luckier than we were…and Kelly was.  

One thing Kelly knew though...was how much she was loved, not only by me or our family...but my many.

Love is ALL there is. 

But sometimes love has to include boundaries.
And that’s not failure. That’s love in its most courageous form.

Diana

P.S. Happy Heavenly Birthday, Sister!  7/11/70 - 6/1/2008