Saturday, November 26, 2016

Serenity in Co-dependency

I've been learning some new words lately.

Co-dependency is one of them. Once I understood the word, I had to work on accepting it. But accepting what you always kind of knew but denied about yourself is never an easy path to walk down.

As soon as I asked and someone told me that being co-dependent meant constantly seeking approval from someone... a cold pit formed in my stomach because that's exactly what I do. I looked into it a bit further and learned that a co-dependent is defined as "a person whose thinking and behavior is organized around another person or their behaviors." Wow. That little nugget sure slapped me with some realism. I was suddenly forced to accept all kinds of things that I didn't want to.

As I pondered this word and it's meaning, I came to understand a few things. I've been co-dependent with a lot of people in my life, specifically in romantic relationships.

In past relationships that were almost right, but not quite, I would try to change who I was. I would accept that the things they said were 'not that bad' just to keep things almost right. Looking back, I kind of knew it wasn't healthy to be in a relationships like that. But I shoved it way down deep and that little dark place can be ignored if you try hard enough.

With former bosses or teachers or others that I was supposed to look up to, I've also developed co-dependency. I have always wanted to be perfect, even when rationally I knew that was ridiculous because no one is. I have always tried to do my best and practically pleaded for someone to notice. I realized this need was something that stemmed, at least in part, to the environment I grew up in.

A lot of what I did wasn't good enough. I would clean my room without prompting and be so proud. I'd ask my parents to come look at the new layout of a freshly rearranged bedroom and instead of praise, the flaws would be pointed out. If there were expectations laid out and I didn't meet them, I was reminded regularly. If I did meet them, I hadn't done it soon enough. I accepted this and allowed this way of thinking to lead me in my decision making and goals attempted throughout my adulthood.

I have had men that I was 'in love' with tell me I was fat, ugly, boring...and I accepted it. Instead of believing those things weren't true, I tried to not be what they perceived and when I couldn't change my weight or my appearance or my personality, I saw myself as a failure and unworthy of their 'love'.

Admitting all of this to myself is...hard.  Recognizing that literally decades of my life were spent with this deep need to please others is also really hard.  I am finally beginning to understand how that led to who I am. When you spend your whole life not giving a shit about yourself and someone tells you, no no...you ARE important, well it's a bit staggering. Even if they've said it to you multiple times over the years, you don't hear it, can't hear it, until you're ready to. And when you are ready, when you're able to hear the compliments and kindness...it's so loud.


It's distracting. You feel great because you start to see what others have all along. You start to let go of the negativity that has weighed you down for years and years. But with that relief and light acceptance, comes guilt. It might feel selfish. It might feel wrong and false because it's so new. Beginning to believe in yourself, building boundaries to protect yourself, learning to accept and truly love yourself is fucking hard.

I'd heard of the Serenity prayer before. I roughly knew the words. But when you read them and begin to apply them, or start saying them to yourself regularly, to the point where you actually start to believe them...things start changing.

Serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

This one is hard. Really hard. I've spent a lifetime trying to change things or people. I didn't realize that's what I was doing but when I was able to step back and look...that's exactly what I was doing. I'd always thought that 'changing someone' meant that I wanted to change the person's clothes or beliefs or other 'on the surface' things.  I wanted them to be better people. I wanted to believe they could change into what I wanted them to be, what I thought was best for them, and eventually, ultimately for me. I have always wanted to accept others just as they are, but I couldn't accept that sometimes that who they are, wasn't right for me. So I tried to change them. I cannot do that. Not with people, or circumstances. Things are the way they are. I can certainly give tools, share ideas, discuss differences...but it is up to an individual to make the change. They have to want to make a change and accepting that I can't make it for them is a new feeling. Accepting that I've done everything I can and that sometimes, most times, it isn't enough is hard too.

Courage to change the things I can.

But I'm not helpless. I can make changes in my own life. I can choose to not let someone else's behavior alter mine. I can choose to set a boundary that forces others to respect my feelings about things I never thought were worthy of note before. I can make choices for me and not be concerned with how others may feel about those choices. If I truly believe I've done the right thing, then why would I ever feel fear? It's a new concept for me. Believing I've made the right decisions for myself, believing IN myself. It's not easy and I've found it does in fact, take courage. To look inside yourself, to admit things about yourself...To begin to make changes that better who I am and how I live. I'm not afraid.

Wisdom to know the difference.

It sometimes takes me awhile to realize what I need to do for myself. Sometimes I am nearly completely broken before I figure it out. I might think about all possible outcomes, play every scenario in my mind, causing an overwhelming amount of confusion and chaos. Sometimes I discuss it with those I trust, or I write it down for no one to read. Sometimes I get lost along the way and am forced to just wait for a little while. But I get there. In fact, I'm still getting there. Wisdom isn't something you get all at once.









Friday, November 18, 2016

In My Mind

I have a tightness in my chest that I've never felt before. It terrifies me but I know it's not going to last. It's just life.

I have a million things to think about and I don't want anything to be on my mind.

I've been so exhausted. And raw. Like a newly made scratch. Red and puffy and angry and not quite bleeding. Raw.

I feel like I might be a little crazy and I can't be sure but I think I'm doing it to myself. I go through my day but I'm on autopilot and that doesn't work that well at work.

I feel like if you looked at me, you'd know. I fear you'd ask me that dreaded question, "Are you ok?" Because I'd feel like I have to say I was when I'm not and then I'd have to walk away or I'd cry.

I can't seem to relax. My mind is going one way and then back another. In between racing thoughts, I make mistakes at work. I cry when someone is kind to me and I wake screaming from nightmares.

I feel...indescribable.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Home Alone

It's been a long time since I've been alone in the house.

It's kind of weird. I didn't realize how different it is without The Fella here. I might be reading or watching something he hates while he's in his Nerditorium doing nerdy things, but that's not the same. You can feel when someone is home, even if they aren't in the room with you.

It's been a long time since I've been alone in the house.

I went upstairs a little while ago to get a sweatshirt and walking through the house I could really hear the quiet. I could also hear the neighbor's dog barking and the TV downstairs and the hum of appliances that you don't really hear unless you are trying to, but the quiet was the loudest.

I zippped up the sweatshirt and stood at the top of the stairs. Looking down into the living room, I felt a sensation come over me like no other. At first, for just a second, I thought (maybe hoped a little) that it was a spirit. I shrugged that off as an overreaction to my coworker telling me all about the latest Ghost Adventures episode at work today and started downstairs.

I saw the familiar shape of the desk at the bottom, knew exactly how much room to give it so I didn't catch my hip on the corner. I sat down in my chair and pulled the blanket up over my knees. I leaned back and muted the TV so I could listen to the quiet.

It's been a long time since I've been alone in the house.

It took a long time for me to feel comfortable here. It felt like I was living in The Fella's house.  I moved in and he'd been living here for two weeks so his imprint, his...presence was already here.

Tonight, one year and almost 5 months exactly later, alone in the house I feel it. It's our house.

The Fella has never done anything to make me feel otherwise. He's always encouraged a reflection of both of us and he really doesn't seem to mind when I do things like buy towels for the bathroom that no one will ever use. So it wasn't because of anything he did or didn't do.

Something about that moment on the stairs tonight, looking down into the living room and seeing the skeleton dressed in armor next to a cat toy brought it all together for me. I'm not sure why but in that moment, it finally became our house.

Maybe I've finally accepted that I deserve it to be.