The Guy I’ve Been Obsessed With For Over 25 Years Has Moved to My town.

How do I fight an addiction when it’s suddenly very accessible?

I think people are as addictive as drugs or alcohol, I really do.

I think there’s something deeply biophysical (is that a word? I’ll Google it later) that happens when we fall in love with someone. I’ve read about a blast of dopamine a person can get when they’re in love and that there is a need — a drive — in my case, an obsession to be around that person so I could keep getting that hit. That high.

There’s also a ‘coming down’ a person can experience when the person they’ve fallen for “detaches”. That word made me laugh the other day. I remember seeing it in a group chat I have with my old Church mates and thinking “that’s an odd thing to say.”

But now I get it.

My addiction to Matt feels like that. A weird attachment; like I’m an ugly barnacle that has attached to the bottom of a tin boat. Over 25 years, that ‘attachment’ has become more solid than concrete. We can both try to ignore it. I can look at life around me and think “yeah, I’m doing okay without him” and Matt can (and often has) forget I exist…but there is still a silver rope between us both. Attached to Matt’s ankle. Attached to my heart.

Could I survive a detachment from that guy? Or would it be the end of me?

Now Matt’s moved to Perth.

FFS.

For me, getting over Matt is like fighting a heroin addiction. I’m at the stage in my life where metaphorically, I’ve not taken any heroin for about eight months now. I’m starting to see clearly. I’m starting to heal. I’m starting to think differently about heroin — I’m seeing more of the damage it causes rather than the high I get from taking it.

I’m making progress. Slowly — but I’m doing it.

Having Matt move to Perth is like having someone put a bag of pure heroin (does it come in bags? haha I have no idea) in my house. On a benchtop where I can see it. Out in the open — taunting me like a ghost “come get me.”

Matt — to me — is the ultimate addiction. When he talks to me, contacts me, messages me — I get that instant high. When I hear from Matt — or even better have been in the same room as him — I feel invincible. I feel incredible. I feel like I’m being covered in gold dust. Food tastes better, colours are brighter — the whole thing.

I can’t explain it but I’ve always felt I needed Matt. I’ve been 100% convinced that if I don’t have him in my life, I would die. I’m shaking my head at myself writing that. Sharing it ‘out loud’ makes me aware of how ridiculous it sounds.

Matt is an itch that feels so good when I scratch it. Matt is that low frequency hum in the back of my brain. When I tune into it, I get the most amazing feeling. Matt to me is that forbidden fruit and oh my God, when I take a bite…the whole world is in pretty watercolours.

So now, I’m panicking.

How do I not take any heroin when it’s in a bag in my home?

Matt is out there somewhere — in my City. I’m praying he’s at least South of Perth so the Swan River separates us. I’m hoping Matt is in Mandurah or Fremantle — which is over an hour’s car ride away. I’m hoping Matt and his wife have moved South of WA — that they’re in Denmark or Albany — nowhere near me.

This would be 1000 times worse if they’re a suburb away.

If the chance I might run into Matt in the city (Perth is a relatively small city in comparison to Sydney or Melbourne) is high, then I’m going to fall apart.

Everything I hold dear is about to be torn to shreds.

If there was a way to lock myself up, I’d take it. Like a werewolf on a full moon, I have to find a way to keep myself locked away so I don’t hurt anyone else.

It’s not enough to keep busy. It’s not going to be enough to not engage with Matt.

It’s not enough to have left him on ‘read’ all of yesterday.

That ‘1’ in the corner of my phone all day taunting me relentlessly — a new message from Matt I wasn’t going to respond to. This has never happened in my life; I always respond immediately; hungry for that contact. This time, I saw Matt had messaged “I’ve written to you so many times on Insta, but I delete the message because I know it’s bad for your mental health. I’m sorry, Janet.”

The bittersweet torture of knowing Matt had written to me! That means he was thinking of me! That means we’re still attached. I’m disgusted at how much that excites me.

Matt’s words “I’ve written to you so many times…” were like bombs going off in my heart.

But I liked the pain.

What had he written? What had he deleted? Why?

Nope. Not going to think into that. I’m a happily married woman.

But like…is there a way to find out what Matt had said?

No, JD. Just no.

I’m so fucking confused!

I wasn’t going to give it my time or attention, yet that message from Matt seemed like it was flashing and in bright letters 10 feet high whenever I picked up my phone to use it.

Somewhere in my brain, the voice of reason is quietly saying “take that bag of heroin and throw it in the bin. Flush it. Do whatever you have to — to get rid of it.”

All I have to do is block Matt. Easy, right? Throw that bag of heroin in the bin.

But 25 years of experience with this reminds me that bags can easily get taken back out of bins. Bags like that can find their way into my hands as if I’ve magically conjured them. Bags like that call to me in the darkest hours of the night “come get me”.

So I’m lost, you guys. I’m so fucking lost.

“Hit me baby one more time”

I always thought that song was about being physically hit and would shake my head sadly at it. I would wonder why a songwriter would write something like that. I would worry for the young girls listening and singing along; worried the subconscious message of “it’s okay to hurt me” was being soaked into their innocent lives and paving the way for a destructive physical relationship.

Now, I think it’s about an unhealthy relationship in terms of emotions. I think it’s someone like me who is addicted to someone like Matt — who doesn’t love them. Who never will — yet they keep crawling back to them.

“Hit me baby — one more time.”

Promising themselves this will be the last time.

The last hit.

The last message they reply to before finally hitting “block and delete”

But that line repeats in the song, guys.

Just as it’s repeating in my life.

Well, this is Medium so I need to end with a life lesson here.

This is awkward because I’m still in the process of learning, but I’m going to try my best.

Addiction isn’t something that can be cured with the addict looking forward into the future. “In a year’s time I won’t be hooked any more”. It’s also not something that can be solved with a simple “no”.

Instead, the addict has to say “no” multiple times throughout a single day.

It’s a constant battle and not one someone can easily walk away from.

For myself, I’m not going to message Matt and I’m going to do my best not to respond when he messages me. This is going to be the biggest test of my life because all I’ve wanted since I was 16 was for Matt to want me. Now here he is, excitedly messaging me about being in my city and wanting my opinion on everything in his life.

Matt’s chasing me and the urge to enjoy that and respond to it is almost unbearable.

Almost.

So every time my phone pings, I make a conscious decision to not respond to it. To not open it. I make myself take deep breaths and I walk away from my phone until I can trust myself to unlock it and not race to Matt’s message. I let it sit.

This is unprecedented in our ‘relationship’ and is my way of sleighing that dragon of addiction.

One step at a time.

One day at time.

One text at a time…until I can finally walk away from this guy.

So if you’re fighting an addiction, please know I see you. I can relate. I’m not going to judge you or casually dispense maddening advice to “just stop it”. I understand how fucking hard it is to not give in to that drink, that needle, that pill, that powder. That online order that looks like it will make your life so much brighter. That dress. That donut.

All we can do is make a choice — the same choice — for as many times as we can gather the strength to do so. We need to dig deep and find the strength to say “no”.

No.

We can only say “no” and do our best to abide by that. If we fall and end up taking that alluring hit, then we give ourselves grace and forgiveness.

We keep trying.

Because it’s in the trying — the continual trying — that we will find victory.

Sending you so much love.