Love & Addiction
An unpublished memoir by
Lisa Tannert

Got Love?
Afraid you’ll never find it? Or that if you do, it won’t outlast your façade? Once your imperfections seep through, that tinge of unhinged will send even the most gallant running for the hills. That was me, like Fiona from Shrek, hoping “true love’s first kiss” would free me from the ogre inside, the “curse” of alcoholism. As an alcoholic, I was more than a little insane. The obstacles I had to overcome to know love seemed insurmountable and love fickle and complicated.
Still, I clung to the fairy tale. Despite a mother who insisted I didn’t need a man and a father who swore I’d never hang on to one, I believed love would save me. But happy endings are unheard of in my world of mental illness and substance abuse, as love rarely conquers crazy. And I survived staggering heartbreak as a result. But I never gave up. I chased the idea of love like I chased my first high. Relentless pursuit landed me in the arms of another addict, Luke, compounding the odds against happily ever after.
I had to go back decades to find a love story where both romantic partners were addicts. There are two, and neither is a memoir. Sid and Nancy (1986) is based on a true story, and Days of Wine and Roses (1962) is fiction. Neither has a happy ending. In the Days of Wine and Roses, Joe gets sober, Kirsten can’t, and Joe has to let her go to maintain his own sobriety for his and their daughter’s sake. Luke and I reach this same place in our story at different times, but our story doesn’t end there. Nor does it end in unspeakable tragedy like Sid & Nancy, although it easily could have on more than one occasion.
Our story, my story, Love & Addiction, is where crazy meets love, and love wins. It’s Sid and Nancy for the Hallmark channel, a modern Days of Wine and Roses with a twist—a happy ending. Ours is a love story so rare it’s never been told. There were tremendous odds against either of us making it, but both? And for us to stay together in sobriety, as changed people with much to forgive, is even more phenomenal. The same tenacity that nearly kills me drinking pays off in romance.
Love and addiction are among the least understood, most powerful forces in this world. The popularity and timelessness of alcoholic love stories are apparent in the success of the fictional movie A Star Is Born, released four times, the first in 1937 and most recently in 2018. The poignance of losing the battle to overcome oneself for love, combined with losing the battle to save a loved one, is something everyone can relate to. It’s eternal hope pitted against insufficiency, that deep core fear that love isn’t enough.
Most love stories that include substance abuse involve only one afflicted partner. One addict is challenging enough for any relationship. And, still, happy endings are rare; at best, they’re hopeful, like in When a Man Loves a Woman, or bittersweet, like in Leaving Las Vegas. But more often than not, as in memoirs like Lit and Junky, love isn’t enough. Addiction proves more than love can bear.
I lived this scenario, also, and it plays out concurrently as a backstory while I doggedly stalk Prince Charming. I couldn’t stay sober and, as a result, lost not only the relationship but the lifestyle and family I loved. That’s how it is for people like me. Twenty years of working with other alcoholics confirms that I’m not alone. No matter how deeply we desire something, the drink or drug always comes first. Believe me, we’re baffled by it, too. So, if you’ve loved and lost, if you’re afraid the love of your life has come and gone, my story offers hope for a second chance, a second love of a lifetime.
Other accounts of alcoholism only allude to love. In some of the best-known memoirs, The Lost Weekend, Dry, John Barleycorn, and Drinking a Love Story, the focus is on the alcoholics’ internal struggle with alcohol and the psychological toll the addiction takes on the protagonist rather than a romantic or interpersonal love story. In Love & Addiction, I focus predominantly on my love interests, romance, and the toll my drinking takes on my relationships…not on me. Recent memoirs are prescriptive, but words don’t teach. Only experience does, and Love & Addiction is a story to be experienced.
Ultimately, it is love that saves me. The shift in perception that opens me up to love also makes it possible for me to recover from alcoholism, so my struggles with addiction are central to the love story. This struggle is more relevant than ever because almost eighteen million people in the United States alone suffer from Alcohol Use Disorder. And one in five adults experience mental illness. My story stresses the importance of recognizing and acknowledging alcoholism as a mental illness. And the importance of removing the blocks to love as a direct means of recovery. Love is the solution.
Love is easy, reliable, and infallible. The truth about love transformed me, and I want this awareness for you, too. I share my hopes and dreams, unmet expectations and demands, heartache and heartbreak, resilience and perseverance so that your vicarious experience will revolutionize your life. This story is for you if you fear love isn’t. Or if you love rooting for underdogs.
