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I watched "Blind Date" religiously, got a job waitressing, developed a crush and made plans to finish college. Perhaps most important, I even got rid of my drug's last janine bauer sucht Frau More fish dating site residue: Matt's message. I listened to it over and over "It's me, your boyfriend, Matt, your.But that didn't mean I wasn't in the right place. Photo Credit David Chelsea In addition to group therapy, we had to attend a daily 12-step meeting. I tried Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous but couldn't connect with people who talked about booze and drugs.His undying love for me was confirmed when I discovered that I got a week alone with him, no other family members, just us. I imagined our teary reunion, big-hearted acknowledgment of wrongdoing, nonaccusatory "I" statements.And I started to do all those charmingly neurotic things that you see in the movies about rehab: I took up kickboxing, crocheted an afghan the size of Rhode Island and ate many, many cookies.I arrived at the center toting my oversize suitcase, exhausted and 15 pounds underweight with dark circles under my eyes. Four women, my apartment mates, were watching television in the living room, and one looked up at me and asked, "So what are you here.But now I feel truly grateful to him for ending our relationship when I couldn't, for making the difficult choices that he knew in the long run would help both him and me get better.So I stuck to meetings of Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. These meetings were coed. I know, it didn't make sense to me either. Had I been in a different state of mind, I no doubt would have gone the way of many of my.I went online and found a center that was, unsurprisingly, also in Arizona. I wanted to prove to Matt that I was a good girlfriend, worthy of his love. Going to treatment, I reasoned, was the ultimate evidence of this.Friends, family members, school and my job became threats, so I left them. And soon our tunnel of love grew so dark and isolating that I could no longer conceive of a life outside it.Instead I actually sat and listened. Time and again I heard from fellow addicts outlandish stories of vitriolic romances and suicidal tendencies. Crazy, I thought, until I considered how similar their stories were to mine.SIX years and three relationships later, I am still coming to terms with this experience. For a long time I resented Matt, blamed him for my life's falling apart and could not see myself as anything other than a victim.So I deleted the profile and put my no-dating plan back on indefinitely. I don't want my next relationship to be an act of addiction. I don't want to partner up because of some compulsive need.I spent that night alternating between fantasies of kitchen knives and nagging thoughts I could no longer suppress telling me that something wasn't right, that love shouldn't make me want to die. Matt, soon after that and to his credit, decided he needed professional help.But my going to treatment to try to make our relationship work was like an alcoholic's checking herself in so that she could learn how to drink. I couldn't see that the solution wasn't learning how to live with Matt but learning how to live.


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