My preacher, who also used to be my best friend and is currently my roommate, was (probably still is) addicted to p*** and he told me in confidence. He told me about this before the pandemic and before we moved in together. He asked me to help him with this problem and I developed codependency because of him. He would call me all the time about what he would watch online because he felt guilty- while I was at work, out with friends, or visiting my family out of state. Even when I came home it seemed like he had more to confess. I didn’t say anything because I thought he was helping me and he said I was doing a good job. I monitored his internet through a program that he asked me to install so I can keep track of what he was looking at- I hated it and I was very uncomfortable. He would also give me a bunch of his devices for me to hide in my room because he couldn’t trust himself to not watch p*** or even girls on YouTube. Problem is, he would sneak into my room trying to look for them. Then when he “got better,” he tossed me to the side. I didn’t matter anymore. He left behind someone emotionally and mentally drained. Someone who for the past 2 and a half years I couldn’t stop thinking about on daily basis. What he is doing? What is he watching? Is he watching p***? Is he going to call me today? I’m a wreck. And he doesn’t even care. My therapist thinks he’s a narcist and I agree. He’s a p************. I hate him. I wish I never met him. I wish I never helped him with his stupid addiction.