Euphoria’s depiction of substance abuse disorder through the eyes of an “invisible victim”
Author’s note: This column is based entirely on my perspective and my experience. All assumptions, opinions and connections are based on that. In no way am I speaking on behalf of my brother or his experience dealing with substance abuse.
I stopped watching the hit HBO show “Euphoria” eight minutes into season two, episode five. Not because the plot failed to keep me interested, but because of the panic attack I felt coming immediately after the opening scene.
In this scene, Rue, the main character and a recovering drug addict, enters a fit of rage upon relapsing. Except I was seeing Rue morph into my older brother Vasco.
I began helping take care of a drugged version of my brother when I was thirteen. It seemed like a no-questions-asked kind of affair, my brother was struggling and I had to help him. Help him through the overdoses, the rampages, the pleading, stealing, and much like Rue, the fits of rage. Watching Rue pounding on her sisters’ door, spewing violent threats and insults, was all too familiar.
My reaction to the portrayal of drug addiction gave me the opportunity to reflect on how substance abuse and recovery are depicted in “Euphoria.”
The root of the trauma that pushed “Euphoria’s” Rue to addiction appears evident in the series. Her father passed away during her teenage years, leading her to a state of depression and eventual substance abuse. While the experience is completely understandable, and a lot of people seek out substances to cope with hardship, it is not always the case. The idea that a person is only likely to fall victim to this disease because of trauma is troubling. In many cases, substance abuse disorder can occur after recreational use, where people don’t see an issue building up. According to Mayo Clinic, “drug addiction can start with experimental use of a recreational drug in social situations, and, for some people, the drug use becomes more frequent.”
My brother’s addiction didn’t come from death or trauma. Instead, it was the constant social use of drugs that ended up becoming a habit.
Of course, other aspects came into play for him, including some mental health issues. But similarly, the idea that trauma has to occur for mental health issues to spark drug use is wrong. A person can struggle without traumatic environmental factors, and a person can be a drug addict without going through a life-changing event. The misconception here lies within the fact
that people often fail to recognize addiction as a disease. However, a large part of why a person can fall victim to substance abuse disorder relies on biology. The National Institute on Drug Abuse, or NIDA, states that “the genes that people are born with account for about half of a person's risk for addiction.” The show fails to bring this important detail to the forefront.
Another triggering aspect about “Euphoria’s” portrayal of drug addiction is the depiction of the role friends and family play in Rue’s life, in relation to her addiction.
Rue’s best friend Jules has come under fire from “Euphoria” fans online for a variety of her behaviors in the show. Season one shows Rue fresh out of rehab, experiencing the early stages of sober life beyond the controlled environment of rehabilitation centers. She meets Jules and quickly becomes dependent on her, something that eventually becomes suffocating for Jules. The moment her new best friend decided to take a step back from this all-consuming friendship, Rue immediately relapsed. Thus, Jules faces her first experience as a villain amongst audience members across various social media platforms and pop culture websites.
The Tik Tok hashtag #juleshateaccount has 326k views, and is filled with videos slandering the fictional character. Entertainment websites like “ScreenRant” and “Complex” have also gone as far as to write articles listing things they hate about her, saying she is disloyal, toxic, and a bad friend.
Here’s the issue: While there is an expectation for being a loyal and dependable friend, there needs to be a line. Much like romantic relationships, friendships can become toxic the minute one individual becomes too dependent on the other. It’s as if Rue replaced her coveted substances with the addictive presence of her new friend. Healing is a complicated process, and while the support of friends is important, there’s a difference between seeking support and needing someone to stay afloat.
I remember vividly that after my brother returned from his first stay at rehab, he clung onto new friends and potential girlfriends. His grip became too much, to the point his best friend told my mom, “I’m not his babysitter.”
It was a hard pill to swallow, but a completely necessary reality for my parents to digest. Prior to this, expectations were heavily placed on Vasco’s close circle of friends. The aforementioned girlfriends of his innocently stayed by his side during relapses, often drinking and smoking with him, failing to disclose the dangerous behaviors with my parents. I say innocently, because truthfully, that’s what it was.
While it would have been beneficial for my brother to surround himself with people who encouraged and maintained a sober behavior, that responsibility was his, not anyone else’s. The expectation that his friends had to change their lifestyles to accommodate him is inherently unfair, because at the end of the day, they’re not the addicts, he is.
Frankly, seeing Jules perceived as a villain because of her decisions was incredibly triggering for me. My whole life has consisted of me attempting to tread lightly around my brother’s disease. Every experience and conversation surrounding this has been a long winding road paved in eggshells that are almost impossible to walk around. They always crack.
The first time I took care of my brother, I was a mere thirteen years old. We were on a family trip, my parents in one room, and Vasco, my little brother and I in another. He arrived one night in a physical state I had never seen before, not even in the movies. Out of some sort of primal or maternal instinct that I hadn’t come to light before, I took charge. I locked my then eight year old brother in the bathroom and held my seventeen year old brother in my arms as he wept and threw up.
He begged me not to notify my parents, and after three long hours, much like those eggshells, I cracked. I called them, and what I expected to become a flood of relief washing over me was criticism and shame. “How dare you wait so long?”, they nagged.
“How dare you snitch on me?”, my brother semi-soberly mumbled the next morning.
Since then, the expectation to be a pillar for my family and brother has been never ending. According to research supported by Peace Valley Recovery, siblings of drug addicts are referred to as the “invisible victims.” I completely agree.
The minute I decided to put up boundaries and step away, just like Jules did, I came under attack. I became the villain in the story.
It’s taken me a while to come to terms with the fact that I’m not. There is no villain here, and if there was one, I’d probably be the opposite. But I’m not the hero, either. The same goes for Jules - definitely not the villain, but also not the hero. The idea of relying on a hero/villain trope for such a fragile situation is toxic.
The truth is, navigating relationships with drug addicts, whether intimate or familial, is extremely complicated. When discussing how to be there for a friend with addiction, the American Addiction Centers suggest being “loving and supportive.” Nowhere does it say “be a lifeline.”
Despite this, putting “Euphoria” under fire isn’t fair either. For such a multi-faceted topic, the series tells Rue’s side story beautifully. Her point of view is clear, she’s the narrator, and this is how she sees her experience unfold. As someone who experienced it second hand, my perspective changes from hers.
However, addiction ultimately affects more than just the addict, regardless of the magnitude or proximity. The failure to highlight the fact that there are other ways to tell the story is something that should be addressed. If “Euphoria” is choosing to showcase one experience, every other traumatizing and complicated story and perspective within its web should receive a moment on screen.