Codependency: a [false] love story

If you grew up in a household with a parent/guardian who was abusive and/or had a substance use disorder, you’re probably familiar with codependency, even if you don’t know it by name.

Codependency is such a well-worn furrow for me since very early in my life that I have to be vigilant against falling into it in all of my adult relationships, whether romantic, platonic, or familial. It’s something I am trying to focus some of my energy towards working on lately, as I find myself having once again fallen into the “trap” of being codependent on someone close to me. This person has a substance use disorder that they are in denial about, and has great difficulty navigating their own emotions. Their spouse enables these issues, to a degree, and I find myself lately trying extra hard to get validation from this person.

Why? This is an important person in my life and we have been close for decades. But I find myself falling in to old behaviors that began with my parents: trying to please, trying to always be considered the best or the most reliable or the most considerate. Putting in so much work lately toward my own healing, I have been writing out some mantras for myself, because some switch flipped for me in the last couple of years and I finally understand what mindfulness actually is and how it can be useful for me. I’ll add the mantras to the end of this post in case anyone who comes across this blog finds them useful.

Codependency masquerades as love, but worry is not the same as love. People-pleasing is not the same as love. I fall into it out of a history of feeling that I need to mirror the feelings of others in order to survive—matching emotions and energies of my caregivers was an automatic action to keep myself out of trouble, to keep from being noticed, to be allowed to stay quiet and go on about my life by making sure I didn’t draw attention to myself.

In her seminal work on the subject, “Codependent No More,” a concept that Melody Beattie discusses is “don’t be blown about by every wind,” and that particular section title has been on my mind these days. The people I am codependent on at the moment have, as I said, a hard time regulating their own emotional responses to stress in particular. My knee-jerk instinct is to mirror their reactions, to take on their emotions as my own, even when I don’t feel personally affected by the same stressors. This is where mindfulness comes in. The difficult part of being around someone who has a substance use disorder is that they come to expect those around them to align with their emotions and reflect them back at them—be angry on my behalf, dammit! It’s the only way to validate me and my outsize reactions to everyday stress! It’s important for me to remember that it’s possible for me to validate others’ feelings without taking them on as my own. It’s also important that I remember that validation isn’t a cure-all, and it isn’t owed. I can empathize without condoning someone else’s reaction to something.

Late in her life, my mother had intense expectations of codependency from her kids. My stepmother is the same way. Even though I have a really hard time with subtext and social cues, I was expected to anticipate the emotional needs of the people who had power or authority over me at all times and regardless of the cost to my mental health. I failed repeatedly. I cannot intuit the emotional needs of others; I need to be told. Once I’m aware, I can be supportive. But I will never be able to “guess” what kind of emotional response I’m “supposed to” have to someone else’s challenging emotions, and I am working on releasing myself from that responsibility—without regard to what the person making these emotional demands thinks about it.

I know that I am a helpful and considerate person, and being that kind of person does not require me to “be blown about by every wind.” I strive to ask for feedback regularly from the people I’m closest to, to ensure I’m not overstepping boundaries or offering advice when it is not desired.

Mantras
– I am not concerned about how my healing looks to others, as long as it is not hurting them.
If the way I am trying to heal hurts others, I trust that they will tell me.
I cannot control the thoughts or feelings of others, toward me or anyone else.
I cannot address a problem someone has with me personally if I am not made aware of it.
I am helpful and considerate.

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