You don't need to convince me that a lifetime spent in the film industry couldn't simply just suck the soul out of someone, especially an emotionally available person like he appeared to be (at least on screen or stage), and bring out any weaknesses to the point of destruction. I get that. But to boil it down to saying Hoffman took chances and one too many when he injected himself that last time--well, that idea doesn't work for me because addicts detest danger.
It's as if you are the one selected by some hidden, secret society to assume the dysfunction of the entire system--the relationship, the family, the community. Someone has to take on the weight of the grief and emotional longing, someone has to allow the shadow to overcome him, so everyone else can stay in the light. There's one in every social unit. It's a game we all play that allows the dysfunction to exist up to a certain point, perhaps right up the point when the addict dies from the end result of the compulsion. Then and only then do we stop and say, "How tragic! Or ask, "Why didn't he seek help? What else could I have done?" Up until that point, the dysfunction is so incredibly useful for maintaining the lies on which the system is fueled that no one dares upset the fragile order. And in turn, this hypocrisy allows the addict to say, "fuck everyone and fuck whatever is real about me." That's when the wheels usually fall off.