The first thing my therapist did was suggest a book called, "Co-Dependent No More", by Melody Beatty. "Co-dependency"....that was a new word for me. I thought it had something to do with living with an alcoholic in the family. And surely, that's where it probably started out.
There's still lots of controversy over what it really means, but there is much agreement that it's a dysfunctional mode of thinking that affects most/all of that person's relationships and is characterized by denial, low self-esteem, compliance, and/or control patterns. For many, it may have started because of an alcoholic loved one, or it may have been the result of growing up within a dysfunctional family life. Sometimes, the cause isn't clear. Typical is the person that denies their true feelings or has trouble identifying what they are, feels completely dedicated to the well-being of others, is often a harsh self-critic, never feeling they're quite "good enough", having poor self esteem and self-worth. The person may find that she uses sex to fill a need for love and appreciation, or she might compromise her own integrity or values to avoid conflict or displeasure from others. The co-dependent is also extremely loyal, staying in situations that are harmful to themselves. Very sensitive to other's feelings, she often adopts those exact feelings, shouldering them as her own. She may also be controlling, feeling overly responsible for other's happiness or success.
Reading this, I very much saw myself in its description -- then again, what Christian, adult woman was NOT on this list?! Again, we were all *taught* to be this way! Being selfless...attune to others and having a giving heart....this wasn't a good thing?
In those first weeks with the doc and the book, I began to learn about detachment. Needing to separate myself from others: Allow myself to have thoughts, feelings, decisions that weren't first based on another's.
I could see how I'd formed my first co-dependent relationship from my mother. Well, no....I learned it from her. She was the queen of co-dependency, being highly stressed and worried about creating an image for the world. She appeared to me to be very aware of other's possessions/successfulness, their children, feeling overly responsible for her family and how they presented themselves to the world, because of course, *everything* was a reflection on her. She always drank wine as I was growing up, but except for a period in my adolescence when I was rebellious, I never saw her as drinking to excess. But it was definitely a coping mechanism for her. And my brother and I, we tiptoed around her, trying our best not to set her off. I was afraid to speak my true feelings because I was fearful of her yelling; her over-reaction. Still, yelling and expressions of extreme anger can cause me to cringe as if I were right back to my childhood. Envisioning that kind of anger has kept me from acknowledging myself as an adult. Detachment, in this case, would entail me being able to live *openly* without the fear of disappointing her were I to stray from her ideal path for my life. I was able to achieve this best with distance - and certainly, distance helped her detach from her children as well. However, I'd still not been able to ever conceive of telling her, either of them, that I'd been involved with meth amphetamine. I'd never want them to think that poorly of me. I knew I'd be a great disappointment to them.
With my husband, co-dependency didn't seem to rear its ugly presence until I stopped working. Before my second child was born and I was still part of the workforce, I was more able to set limits. Yet, as he became a successful doctor, having more demanding needs of his own, I slowly began to ignore my own in order to please him. He always needed a good night's sleep, alone time that was chaos-free, or "selfish time" to "lie on the couch and veg" or watch a game because his days were long and arduous. Because I didn't have that big important job, my day wasn't as busy or emotionally demanding, I needed to make concessions for him. I needed to pick up the slack. I learned easily to deny any feelings of anger or disappointment, priding myself that I wasn't as needy, as worrisome, obsessive as he. I could handle chaos so much better. Detachment from my husband would have to mean that I'd be willing to risk his anger at my asking for more from him. Risk his feeling disappointment that I wasn't the girl he married; I wasn't as low maintenance as he'd hoped. Risk his disappointment with me that I didn't automatically try to make his life easier. And though he'd never given me an ounce of worry about other women, I risked the fear of losing him to someone that really WAS better at being a selfless mother and wife than I was capable of being.
I'd be remiss here if I didn't also mention my issues with money. The more affluent we became, I can see I became more dysfunctional in my thinking. I'd never felt that the money was "ours". It was from his own hard work. He *was* very good at his job; a good, conscientious surgeon, but even more, people liked him. He has a good heart that's easily apparent - his success is mainly from referrals, both from inside the medical community and the patients/families he treats. So, it felt as though people might look at me with envy thinking that I'd just hooked my anchor to a star and was living happily off the fatted calf. I've always had difficulty with outward expressions of affluence because I didn't want people to look at me with a question, "And what do YOU do?" My life - everything I did- had become a silent mode of proving to others I was worthy of the way we were living. And in the meantime, I agonized over returning to the workforce so I could prove I was monetarily valuable too. Struggling with the desire to be home with my kids, but wanting to look - and FEEL - more valuable and important, too.
Detachment from my kids is much more difficult. There's a very gray line about what I am responsible for and when feeling their consequences is a much healthier option. It was much easier for me to allow my kids to fail when they were younger - to literally fall into the pool, for instance - so it could teach them the value of watching where they were going. But as they've grown, it's been very hard to detach and watch them fail if I know that I might be able to prevent it. Having been the child of an over responsible parent, it feels like a failing parent if I'm not standing over them with a rod if they don't follow a narrow path of "the perfect child". Daily, I still struggle with allowing each of them, but especially my daughter, the chance to make her own decisions and feel her mistakes. Cuz mistakes are bigger now. More long-term. Can be more emotionally damaging.
I don't know all the answers for detachment with my kids yet....I'm still learning.
Harder still when your husband and you don't always agree.
Lastly, I was in great need at that time with detaching from my "friend", Mary, and housekeeper. She'd lived a hard life growing up and was still struggling as a single mom, recently divorced from an abusive ex, and trying to handle a rebellious, depressed, addict son. I was her closest friend. How could I detach from her? Abandon her? I was afraid she'd become suicidal, or start using again. Here I was living "in the lap of luxury" by nothing that I'd actively done; how I could turn my back on someone so obviously in need? I thought, why shouldn't I help out, make allowances for her, be more understanding? My life IS easier. Detaching might mean letting her down in her expectations emotionally of me as a friend. I didn't want her to feel alone without anywhere to turn. Her involvement with me had helped her personal strength - how could I abandon her when I had so much going for me? I knew it'd be best to let the relationship go, but I felt trapped in it. She couldn't afford therapy, so I was sharing what I was learning. Doing the book work, the journaling, seeing my therapist....and sharing my gift with her. Helping her to heal too.
Until, one day, she sent me a text...."Guess what I got?! Guess what (my neice) dropped into my purse just this morning?! Come visit me....come get a bump!!"
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