At the tender age of eighteen, as I embarked upon my real life outside my parents’ home, as I was writing an inspired (insipid) essay for my college lit class at a local coffee shop, a charming blue-eyed gentleman engaged me in conversation. He lured me into his world with compliments and attention, and I was hooked. He turned out to be a narcissist, and I was his blossoming codependent better half.
Our relationship became increasingly abusive over the three years that we dated, both physically and psychologically. Like a good codependent, I felt responsible for his fickle moods, I caused his anger, I walked on eggshells around him, I had anxiety attacks worrying about him, I was attracted to his neediness, and I felt I had to give, give, give until I had nothing left. I often felt blindsided, bereft, guilty, lonely, and sick.
As the constant anxiety and abuse eroded what little self-esteem I had to begin with, I sought therapy for what I assumed to be a need for some help with stress management regarding my workload at college. My very patient head shrinker helped me to get a glimpse of reality. With her support, I realized that my problem was not merely an issue of stress caused by difficult course loads, my spirit was being killed by an abusive man.
After years of crying about family of origin issues in psychotherapy, after numerous subsequent failed relationships, and most importantly, after finding the grace and love of Christ Jesus, I healed. I learned who I was, and my codependency nearly vanished.
Perhaps as a result of my past (he can’t still affect me now!), or maybe because of all the feminist literature (hear me roar!) I inhaled in graduate school, I abhor the slightest notion that I may have codependent tendencies now.
In my imagination, I am this independent robot who has perfectly healthy boundaries and easily says no to unreasonable demands. While I respect the thoughts and feelings of others, I do not let them affect me. Everyone is responsible for himself, as am I. I never over-commit myself, I feel totally secure receiving gifts or compliments, I never worry how things will turn out. I certainly never feel victimized or unappreciated.
Alas, those tendencies do rear their ugly heads on occasion.
When I know I am acting with integrity, why do I let others’ reactions bother me? Why do I feel a sense of pride and self-worth when I reach out to help someone who is needy? Why do I let it affect my sense of self when someone is upset with me? Why do I doubt myself? Why would I rather someone else be comfortable than myself? Why do I worry? Why do I try to control circumstances? Why do I trivialize my own thoughts and feelings? Why do I repress my own anger?
I want to feel valued and loved, yet I feel an uneasiness that whispers that I am not deserving of love. Codependency is a shortcut to intimacy, but it is one that is not healthy and therefore does not work long term.
These symptoms reflect a lack of faith in God, the one who loves me unconditionally. It is His reaction alone that matters; it is He who gives me a sense of self-worth. He made me the way I am, and I can rest in His sovereign plan for me without worrying.
Our relationship became increasingly abusive over the three years that we dated, both physically and psychologically. Like a good codependent, I felt responsible for his fickle moods, I caused his anger, I walked on eggshells around him, I had anxiety attacks worrying about him, I was attracted to his neediness, and I felt I had to give, give, give until I had nothing left. I often felt blindsided, bereft, guilty, lonely, and sick.
As the constant anxiety and abuse eroded what little self-esteem I had to begin with, I sought therapy for what I assumed to be a need for some help with stress management regarding my workload at college. My very patient head shrinker helped me to get a glimpse of reality. With her support, I realized that my problem was not merely an issue of stress caused by difficult course loads, my spirit was being killed by an abusive man.
After years of crying about family of origin issues in psychotherapy, after numerous subsequent failed relationships, and most importantly, after finding the grace and love of Christ Jesus, I healed. I learned who I was, and my codependency nearly vanished.
Perhaps as a result of my past (he can’t still affect me now!), or maybe because of all the feminist literature (hear me roar!) I inhaled in graduate school, I abhor the slightest notion that I may have codependent tendencies now.
In my imagination, I am this independent robot who has perfectly healthy boundaries and easily says no to unreasonable demands. While I respect the thoughts and feelings of others, I do not let them affect me. Everyone is responsible for himself, as am I. I never over-commit myself, I feel totally secure receiving gifts or compliments, I never worry how things will turn out. I certainly never feel victimized or unappreciated.
Alas, those tendencies do rear their ugly heads on occasion.
When I know I am acting with integrity, why do I let others’ reactions bother me? Why do I feel a sense of pride and self-worth when I reach out to help someone who is needy? Why do I let it affect my sense of self when someone is upset with me? Why do I doubt myself? Why would I rather someone else be comfortable than myself? Why do I worry? Why do I try to control circumstances? Why do I trivialize my own thoughts and feelings? Why do I repress my own anger?
I want to feel valued and loved, yet I feel an uneasiness that whispers that I am not deserving of love. Codependency is a shortcut to intimacy, but it is one that is not healthy and therefore does not work long term.
These symptoms reflect a lack of faith in God, the one who loves me unconditionally. It is His reaction alone that matters; it is He who gives me a sense of self-worth. He made me the way I am, and I can rest in His sovereign plan for me without worrying.
