I confess: I've given my husband money for drugs

The number one rule of knowing a crackhead: NEVER GIVE THEM MONEY. I confess I've broken this rule. Not only have I broken it NOT knowing he would use it for drugs, or even hoping he wouldn't use it for drugs. I have given him money knowing full well that he would use it for drugs. Asinine, right?

I once saw an episode of Intervention where a grandmother would give the addict money for drugs. I thought she was so stupid!! Now, I understand. But I admit: it's still stupid.

I love my husband. And contrary to the popular assumption that he's just using me, I believe he does actually love me. I knew him while he was clean and he was an amazing husband. Probably as strong as his appetite for crack, is my appetite to have my husband back; to have him present in the bed late at night instead of rock chasing into the next morning. It didn't work.

Maybe it's the chase. Maybe it's the time... As in, it only took him a couple of hours to smoke thru a readily available amount of crack. So, he was done with what I paid for, there were still many many hours left to chase down more.

I've paid for his drugs more than once. A couple of times it was on the promise that "This is the last one tonight. After this, I promise I'm coming right home." He knows about my appetite to have him home, see. And when he's this crack-monster, he feeds on it. He plays on it.  So I've given in. Sometimes he keeps his promise, but more often he doesn't.

When he comes down, or if he's been clean for a couple of days, he tells me, "Don't give me money. No matter what I say, don't take me to buy it. Don't help me get it." Feeble are his attempts to save me from himself, because it's when he's in that downward fall that my panic forces me to grip him tighter.

That's not to say I've never hung him out to dry. I most certainly have. That's actually the norm, especially lately. But sometimes, on my loneliest nights, when all I want is someone to hold me at night... even someone to make love to me... it's worth a shot (in my crippled mind) to enable him to get high, and maybe, in the process it'll enable him to come home.

This is, most definitely, a lonely life.

MY PSA: If you're recently becoming involved with someone who smokes crack, stop! You can't save him. Say that with me.. "I CAN'T SAVE HIM." I think that's what's kept me with mine for so long. I don't want to fail him, when in reality, he's failing me and the kids. He's failing himself.