Why Rue from Euphoria is TV’s rawest portrayal of addiction, explained in depth

Rue, Zendaya, Euphoria
A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)

TV has always tried to get its head around addiction, but most of the time, it’s been a mess. For ages, if you saw someone on screen struggling with drugs or booze, it was either a melodrama, a “very special episode,” or just some random character arc that got wrapped up in twenty minutes. Reality was not even close, as they’d slap on some stereotypes, wag their finger, and call it a day, barely scratching the surface of actual psychology, family stuff, or how society plays into it all.

Then the 2000s hit, the opioid crisis went nuclear, and everybody was forced to wake up. People wanted more than scare tactics and an after-school special. They wanted stories that felt real, gritty, and a little ugly—even if it made folks uncomfortable.

Then came HBO’s Euphoria. When that show dropped in 2019, think pieces were battling it out about whether this was genius, irresponsible, or both. At the heart of it is Rue (portrayed by Zendaya), a teenager who’s not just dabbling—she’s sinking, gasping, clawing her way through addiction.

The show doesn’t try to tidy it up or make it “cool.” Sometimes it gets so raw, you almost want to look away. But that’s kind of the point.

Euphoria doesn’t just stick Rue in the “troubled teen” box. Her story pulls in trauma, mental health, friendships, and family drama— the whole tangled mess that real people deal with. It’s not a PSA. It’s not a horror show, either. It’s a bombshell, and that’s why it’s stuck with people.

Rue’s journey isn’t neat, but it’s probably the closest TV’s gotten to showing what addiction actually feels like—messy, cyclical, heartbreaking, and weirdly, sometimes hopeful.

So let’s dig in. What makes Rue’s story hit differently? How does Euphoria nail the messy psychology and social stuff behind addiction? And why does this show matter so much for how we talk about substance use now?

DISCLAIMER: This article is a strict personal opinion of the author based on their viewing experience. Reader discretion is advised.


The genesis of Rue in Euphoria: A character rooted in reality

A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)
A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)

Inspired by lived experience

Rue isn’t just some made-up TV character—she’s Sam Levinson’s younger self in disguise. He has publicly said he built Rue’s entire chaos around his own teenage addiction. It’s not just another “drugs are bad” special. The story doesn’t put a moral lesson on everything or tie Rue’s disaster of a life up with a neat little bow.

Instead, Euphoria just dumps you right in the middle of her mess.

Trauma, mental health, and SUD

Now, about her addiction: it’s not just some random plot point in Euphoria. Everything goes back to trauma, especially losing her dad. That pain sticks with her and twists up with anxiety, depression, and bipolar disorder. The show doesn’t shy away from showing how all that mental health baggage feeds into her drug use.

Rue isn’t out here popping pills for fun; she’s trying to numb the ache, quiet the noise, and just get through the day. And that connection between trauma, mental health, and substance use is not just some TV thing. Researchers have been talking about it for years, especially when it comes to teens. You pile trauma and mental illness on a kid, and drugs start to look like an escape hatch—except, you know, it’s a trap.


The anatomy of addiction: How Euphoria depicts Rue’s descent

A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)
A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)

The cycle of use, withdrawal, and relapse

Euphoria doesn’t sugarcoat addiction. Rue’s whole deal—her highs, her crashes, the endless loop of using, quitting, and caving again—it’s raw, and there's no filter.

Remember the Rue’s Run episode in season two? You get the full horror show: she’s sweating, doubled over with stomach cramps, yawning like she’s fighting to stay awake at her own funeral, and just desperate enough to do anything—steal, lie, whatever it takes.

It’s brutal, and that’s the point. They even brought in real addiction consultants to nail the tiny details, so everything feels painfully real.

Jessica Steinman, addiction consultant for Euphoria, tells POPSUGAR:

"There is nothing glamorous about withdrawal or addiction. It stops becoming a choice once someone is dependent and they need professional help to stop."

The all-consuming nature of addiction

Addiction isn’t just something Rue struggles with—it’s the main character in her life. She messes up, hurts people, and does ugly stuff, but not because she’s evil—she just can’t NOT do it. The show messes with your head, too: weird voice-overs, trippy visuals, and scrambled timelines.

You end up inside Rue’s brain, seeing just how much the drugs warp her reality. People who’ve been there say it hits pretty close to home, and the specialists back that up, as per Oasis Bradford, a UKAT facility.

The impact on relationships

Rue doesn’t just screw up her own life—it’s like a bomb going off in the middle of her family. Her mom, Leslie, is constantly hanging by a thread, and her little sister, Gia, is just trying to survive in the fallout. Friends, girlfriends, everyone gets pulled in.

Euphoria doesn’t just focus on Rue’s pain; it really digs into what it’s like for the people who love her. All the broken promises, the awkward interventions, the trust issues—it’s all there. Anyone who’s dealt with addiction in the family will probably see a little too much of themselves in these scenes.


Social and psychological dimensions: Beyond the individual

A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)
A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)

Addiction as a response to trauma

Rue is not just about “bad choices.” The trauma sits right at the center—her dad’s death haunts her. She’s got flashbacks and hallucinations, and you can tell that grief is eating her alive, driving her to use. Anyone who’s read even a little bit about addiction knows that adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) just crank up your chances of ending up with a substance problem down the line.

Co-occurring disorders

Moreover, Rue isn’t just fighting one demon. She’s got a whole squad of them—anxiety, depression, and bipolar. It’s like an endless loop: she uses them to cope, but then the drugs make her mental health worse, so she uses more, and round and round it goes. TV usually skips over this complicated thing or slaps on a neat label, but Euphoria digs in. That’s pretty refreshing because real life isn’t just one problem at a time.

Socioeconomic barriers to treatment

Cherry on top: Rue is broke, her family is broke, and decent rehab costs a fortune. Euphoria doesn’t sugarcoat it—treatment is expensive, support groups aren’t a magic fix (especially if you’re not religious or just don’t vibe with them), and some people just get left behind. That’s not just TV drama; that’s how things go down in real life. The system is kind of rigged, and Euphoria isn’t afraid to point a finger at it.


Realism and reception: What makes Rue’s portrayal stand out

A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)
A still from Euphoria (Image via Prime Video)

Critical and clinical acclaim

Mental health pros and addiction experts have been hyping up Euphoria for how raw and brutally honest it gets about Rue’s addiction. Showmakers actually brought in consultants to make sure it all felt real. And Zendaya nails it. People keep calling her performance “emotionally charged” and “respectful,” which is kind of an understatement.

What’s wild is, Rue’s story isn’t a feel-good arc. She messes up. A lot. Relapses, spirals, all that ugly stuff. They don’t gloss over the mess to give you a tidy, inspirational ending.

Social media and viewer response

If you ever scroll through Reddit, X, or venture into YouTube comments, you’ll see people connecting with Rue’s story. Tons of people say watching Euphoria feels both “triggering” and a sort of “validating.” It’s like Rue’s chaos mirrors what they—or someone they love—have actually lived through.

And all this chatter online seems to be helping. People are talking more openly, the shame is dropping a bit, and the show is making it okay to admit you’re not okay.

A research paper published at Johns Hopkins University points out:

“Redditors often found Euphoria's storyline and portrayed events to be relatable and realistic to the experience of young people who use drugs, as well as sometimes triggering. Overall, Redditors thought Rue accurately depicted an individual's struggle with a substance use disorder.”

The debate over glamorization

Not everyone’s handing out gold stars. Some critics think Euphoria makes drug use look a little too cool—thanks to those trippy visuals and the fact that the characters are barely out of high school.

But most people who stick with the show say it doesn’t sugarcoat anything. Addiction in Euphoria is ugly, it’s lonely, and it wrecks lives right in front of you. The show doesn’t shy away from withdrawals, overdoses, and relationships falling apart.

There are flashes of escape, but they always come crashing down.

In fact, a 2024 study in CoLab said Gen Z people who checked out the show started seeing people with substance use disorders in a more layered, empathetic light. They were also more down to back harm reduction policies.

So, TV actually did something good for once.

Edited by Sroban Ghosh