What does “codependency” mean anyway?
I’ve had a few people ask me about this recently, and given all the posts I have running about it, it’s no wonder. So let’s go into it a bit, shall we?
Codependency has as many definitions as you can imagine, and there are several patterns of codependent behavior that can manifest. One such defines it as a set of maladaptive, compulsive behaviors learned by family members in order to survive in a family which is experiencing great emotional pain and stress. Patterns of codependency generally fall into four categories: denial, low self-esteem, compliance, and control. A codependent person will manifest patterns of more than one of the categories, and very often, all four.
There is argument between scholars as to whether or not it is a disorder or a disease, such as alcoholism. Being a layperson, I can’t really say either way. All I can talk about is what it is to me, how it manifests, and how it has shaped my life.
To understand it from my perspective, you must begin to understand where it all started. As with everything, this too goes right back to good old mom and pop. My bio-father was an abusive alcoholic and my mother was an abusive mentally unstable woman. In hindsight, she was probably very codependent in addition to whatever chemical imbalances were happening in her brain. In addition to my parents, there are also the supporting actors, my paternal grandparents. Add to this my step father, who came into my life when I was 11, before my mother died when I was 12. Dad probably won’t admit any such thing, but he too had a drinking problem.
My childhood was characterized by endless series of abuse, both physical and sexual, and let us not forget the emotional abuse. By the time I was 14, I had developed a very low self-esteem and a very self-destructive way of living. The long and the short of it was that I had spent my first 12 years trying to get my mother’s approval, love, and protection to no avail. After that, knowing I could never get it since she had died, I went out of my way to hurt myself as much as possible to control the feelings of low self-esteem and worthlessness. This is, admittedly, the very short version of the story. The long version isn’t necessary for this entry.
When I became an adult, and I use that term very loosely, I developed a habit of getting into relationships that were extremely unhealthy. And this is where the codependent behavior really begins to manifest itself. My outside appearance is generally well put together, intelligent, strong, and witty. Get me into a bad relationship and I go crazy. Literally crazy.
To date, I have not had one healthy relationship in my life, outside of possibly a guy who was a rebound between my ex-husband and my first long term live in ex-boyfriend, and even that one I’m not entirely sure of. Too many questions there. My relationships have been characterized by drug and alcohol abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and mental illness. Sometimes in combination, but not always. Some of my partners were also codependent, a fact which I recognized early on into the relationship, but felt both powerless to overcome and confident that it could be overcome. Each one of them also had some wonderful qualities, some more than others, and much like me, from the outside they all appear to be wonderful healthy people. From the inside things tend to look a lot different. But this isn’t to rehash what they did or did not do, but rather to explain what happens to me when I am around people like this.
If I tell you that I literally lose my mind, you probably won’t believe me. One of the biggest manifestations of codependency for me is a very low sense of self worth. I put a lot of stock into what these partners thought about me, said to me, did to me. If something was wrong, it must have been my fault, because it was my belief that everything was always my fault. He spends more time viewing porn than touching me? I must be fat. He yelled at me in public? I must be stupid. He threw something? I pushed too far. He pushed me into the wall? I was asking for it. No matter what it was, I could point to myself as the cause.
Another manifestation is my very irrational fear of abandonment. Which causes me to turn into a very clingy person. Late coming home and didn’t call? Not coming home at all? Believe it, there were twenty seven phone calls and completely unhinged emails and voice mails.
However, the biggest, and most damaging manifestation is the pattern of compliance. The tendency to try and fall into what someone else thinks I should be. It’s a direct result of the low self esteem issue. Don’t get mad. Okay, I’ll swallow that emotion. How dare you question me? Okay, I’ll swallow that too and tell myself I’m paranoid. What the hell is wrong with you, this behavior is perfectly normal. Okay, I’ll brainwash myself to believe you. Don’t really want to do your fair share of the household chores? Fine, I’ll do it. But believe me when I say, there will be hell to pay.
Following compliance, the resentment begins to build. I find myself angry that I had to sit there and pretend to believe yet another lie. Angry that I said yes when I meant no and now checks have bounced. Angry that I said yes when I meant no and now I’m hating myself for the sex I didn’t want, and hating him for not seeing that I didn’t want it. Angry as hell for my partner not seeing how much pain I was in.
Which, of course, leads us into control. Am I a control freak? You betcha. I do not like to cry in front of strangers, hate when my clothes are wrinkled, only submit perfect work to my boss, and I will do whatever I can to make you not do the thing that is going to hurt me. Weigh each word with precision, adjust my tone of voice to get the best response, and pretty much try to make myself as perfect as possible so that my partner doesn’t lash out at me.
Let me tell you something, boys and girls, this does not work. If your partner is going to lose their mind and do something that hurts you, there is no amount of tap dancing around it that can prevent it. Oh, you can put it off, sometimes for a very long time. But you will never be able to prevent it unless you do one, and only one, thing. Walk away. I always thought walking away meant giving up, and maybe it does, but it also means being able to love yourself enough to say “No more, thank you.”
Ah, and let us not forget denial. Of course, I will deny to friends and family that anything is wrong, or minimze just how bad it is. I’ll deny it to myself. I’ll minimize the pain, the guilt, the shame. I’ll blame my partner’s parents, job, illness, what have you. I’ll tell myself that if he would just stop being such a jerk, I’d quit being crazy. And while that may be true, it would never address the underlying issue that causes me to be crazy in the first place. The inability to believe in myself enough to walk away from a catastrophe before it has a chance to do so much damage that I’m licking my wounds years after the fact.
Which brings us to today, and what I’m doing in my life. I have come to realize that I make some very bad choices with partners. I have come to realize that in my present state of being, I am not able to have a healthy relationship. I have come to realize that I have absolutely no control over how another person acts. I have come to realize that sometimes, in order to save yourself, you have to walk away and not let someone else know how much you still love them. In my case, and I cannot speak for another codependent on the planet, I cannot allow an inch, because if I give that inch, before you know it, I’m putting my heart back out on display and asking for it to be kicked around again.
After every failed relationship, I have strived to learn something, to grow and heal. And every time I think I do, I find myself in another relationship with another member of the walking wounded, and I start the cycle all over again. Well, this time I have put my little goddess foot down, and I have said enough is enough. I will take no more. And if I have to talk about this all day, every day, to remind myself just how bad it can get and what I’m no longer going to tolerate, then that’s what I’m going to do. Because recovery is possible, but only if I work it. And that’s just what I’m doing.
I will get to the other side, and I hope to see a good many of you over there with me.
My name is Sabre and I’m codependent. Thank you for letting me share.
PS: If any of this is familiar to you, if you find yourself saying, “Oh wow, that’s so me!” I urge you to please go to CoDA.org and seek a 12 Step group in your area. It helps, and it works. You are not alone.