I need some accountability so I’m just putting it out there.
I am a recovering co-dependent.
Here is how Wikipedia defines codependency: ‘the need to
control another. It involves placing a lower priority on one’s own needs, while
being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others. Codependency can occur
in any type of relationship including family, work, friendship, also romantic,
peer or community relationships. It may also be characterized by denial, low
self-esteem, excessive compliance, or control patterns.’
Shut up Wikipedia! You don’t have kids!
Codependents mean well; they really do. So if you meet one,
live with one, or have the good fortune to be in relationship, just know they come
from an honest place. They are not trying to ruin your life. They see life
experience in panoramic view. They zoom out and see all the ‘what if’s like a
hawk circling from above. They are the self appointed caution signs in your
life that say ‘merge’ ‘detour’ ‘stop hanging around those awful people!’ Most
of the time they see things before you do and they want to protect you from
immanent danger, debt, or injury to your soul. Advice rolls off their tongue
like the words: snicker-doodle, hodge-podge, or leggo my eggo. Well, that’s how
I explain my codependency. How do the rest of you recovering co-dependents see
it?
When I was in my late teens, going into my twenties, I
really wanted to be a mom. A few years later when I actually did get pregnant I
thought it was the coolest thing in the world: like a science experiment. I was
fascinated by what was going on inside of my belly week-to-week, month-to-month
(until the stretch marks appeared). For 9 months I prepared for my child’s
arrival with love. I hand painted life size Care Bears on his nursery walls.
Made the yellow bumpers and blanket for his crib. And I also saved 300 Popsicle
sticks (from my cravings) thinking one day we would make a craft. I was heavily invested in his comfort
and happiness before he took his first breath. I was ready to be a mom. Or so I
thought.
Hours before Kevin was born, while in labor, I had this
overwhelming feeling I was going to screw this kid’s life up. What if something
happens like a car accident or I left the cabinet door open and he drinks
something poisonous? He would die and it would be all my fault--like every
thing else (or so I had been conditioned to believe). Fear is the beginning
seed for codependency. That, and I’m a first-born.
Every mom has her delivery story. I’ll spare you mine. After
the initial screaming to get him out, and Kevin screaming as he entered this
world, his father brought him over so I could give him his 'first' kiss. I
thanked God that all his fingers and toes were accounted for and he didn’t have
my grandfather’s nose. He was perfect in
my eyes and on the Apgar Score.
After a few hours of rest after the delivery I continued to
wonder if I was going to be able to be a good mother. Panic and control were
growing. No kidding, these were my first conscious thoughts after becoming a
mother: ‘What happens if he throws up? I
hate throw up! What happens if he grows up and moves away? I am so in love with
this little boy but I could die tonight and he doesn’t need me any more.’ Kevin
wasn’t but a few hours old and I was already having separation anxiety. A black
cloud of depressing thoughts hung over my head while I was learning how to
quickly whip my boob back into a nursing bra while at the same time swaddle and
cuddle my infant son. Nobody told me that being a parent meant I’d be
responsible for every outcome of my child’s life good or bad. Nobody told me
that others would be watching my every move waiting or expecting me to mess up.
They told me that I’d have bigger hips, a messier house, no sleep for the next
two years, and that I’d never really ever be able to get baby food stains out
of my shirts again.
After Kevin fell asleep, I put him down on his back in the
little hospital bassinet. Within minutes, he started throwing up clear liquid. Fearing
he’d choke to death on his vomit I said, “Oh God, not throw up!” I leaped back
off the bed picked him up and turned him on his side and gently patted his back
while wiping his mouth. He cried, I cried. He was okay. I was okay. I held him
to my chest and said, “I’ll always be there when you throw up Buddy. We can do
this; you and me. I’m not afraid anymore.” From that moment on it was ‘game
on’. I got this mom thing now.
Ever after when something went wrong, I leaped up and I took
care of it. And I did that for decades. Sometimes I’d leap up before something
went wrong. I could instinctively tell something was going to happen-like a
hawk. However, here’s the thing about hawks, they also have talons. Have you
ever had a hawk land on your arm? Neither have I. But I imagine it’s painful
unless you have protective padding.
Poor Kevin didn’t stand a chance with his co-dependent mom
watching his every move. I learned very young how to control my world, Kevin’s
world, and a few other people’s planets. If you were in my orbit you were
gravitationally pulled in, to revolve around my fears, my expectations, or my happiness.
If I haven't already made amends, let me apologize once again!
This brings me to why I am writing this. Kevin and his girlfriend,
Maddi, are moving back home from Florida this weekend. It was a brave move. Kev
is looking to get married in the near future and save up for a house and a
family. In this economy, that is almost impossible to have traditional dreams
without the support of family. My grandmother, G.G. lived with her family in
the 30’s during the depression. For generations, families helped each other in
good times and hard times. She would be proud of Kevin for sacrificing and
preparing for his future by being proactive.
When Kevin was 19 we parted on difficult terms. It broke my
heart, but it was time for him to fly. I left hawkish claw marks in his arm.
This time around, I am hoping to do better. For the last 8
years, I’ve been learning how to individuate from my only begotten son. Trust
me, it hasn’t been easy. I like being a mom. My heart feels full of love and I
like to do nurturing things. I like helping and fixing. It comes naturally. Often
I don’t even realize I’m doing it until I hear myself saying, “Hey, why don’t
you----!” Parents always want to see their kids improve until the day they die.
If you don’t, you’re boldface lying.
When Kevin lived with me before, it was my job to manage his
life (to a certain extent). Parents are
hands-on in the day-to-day life of their children. But my son is a man now. He
has proven that he can take care of himself (and others). My role now is one of
consultant. We let our adult children run their own business. I need to ask permission if he wants advice. I
need to ask, “How’s it going; what’s up? Can I be helpful to you? Would you
like some feedback?” This will be super hard for me, because I give great
unsolicited, advice! Really, it’s a gift.
Kevin deserves respect and autonomy; and frankly, so do I. Honoring each other’s space and choices is what
recovering co-dependents do. We get on with our own life. So how does a parent
prepare for re-entry of their adult children moving back home? According to
Debbie Pincus, who writes about how to keep your sanity when your adult
children move back home: you clarify expectations and continue to have honest
communication. Okay, got it! I can do that.
Please check in with me to see how I’m doing with my second
chance at practicing recovery as a codependent mom. I’m a rare bird who
actually loves feedback and advice (it is probably why I think everyone wants
it too).
One of my favorite books on parenting (very Zen stuff) comes
from The Parent’s Toa Te Ching: Ancient Advice For Modern Parents. I wish I had
had this book while Kevin was growing up. It is the perfect resource for
recovering co-dependents.
Page 28: Be Alert and Mindful: If you would be a wise parent be careful
in all you do and say. Know that each action, each word, has it’s effect. Be
alert and mindful, living fully in each present moment. Treat your children
with courtesy as you would treat a guest. Be ready in a moment to let go of one
plan and embark on another if your inner voice so urges. Have room within your
heart to hear the voice of both your children and your own spirit. Do not
expect fulfillment from events or people outside yourself. Welcome and accept
things as they are. Welcome and accept children as they are. Treat yourself
with gentle care. These qualities emerge naturally, not by force of will.
Welcome Home again Kevin (and Maddi). Come and just 'BE'. ~ Love mom
