On giving up the career I chose...

A long time ago, I fell in love with helping people. Years later, I realized through a mine field of good therapy that I had simply learned how to profit from my dysfunctional codependence. Whatever works.  Two days ago, my boss asked me if I'd ever considered counseling (belly laughter) after I cried for about 4 hours straight the day after I sent my resignation letter. The day before that, my Mom had some side eye comment about how all jobs suck and that's why they pay you. The day before that, my guy looked at me with an amusing terror while simultaneously telling me that he was totally on board when I had a long talk with him about needing to quit my job. He hugged me and I imagined that while his face was out of view, he probably had the wide, gaping, fearful eyes of a man who just realized he'd coupled with someone who actually meant all those head-in-the-clouds, wander-lustful, Buddhist sorta things she says that made him sort of love her.

Three days ago, I officially put in my resignation notice on my career.  It's not like this has never happened before. I've resigned. I've run off to Mexico to chase my dreams whilst losing my mind and finding myself. I've stayed home and raised kids and depended on someone else to make the money while I did whatever I did. But, I always knew I had my career in my back pocket. I always knew what I intended to be doing. I always knew that I'd return some day to the tumultuous, drama-filled, adrenaline rush of my career. It's addictive. I've always been well suited to it. It feels a bit ingrained in my me-ness. But, life throws some curve balls and I'm Babe Ruth reincarnate.

A few years ago, I got the diagnosis. I'd suspected the diagnosis for, sheesh, 12, 13, 15 years. I'd been afraid, no-- petrified, of the diagnosis since, well, as long as I can remember. But I got it. It became a reality. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess I've thought all this time that I was simply a fully crazed hypochondriac who had manifested these symptoms out of sheer projection and I was not, in fact, a sick girl. A crazy one, SURE, but not a sick one. And then, they gave me that damned test. Some marvel of modern medicine that keeps you from getting to pretend you're just nuts and instead, have to stare shit right in the face. Damn science. And that was that. I no longer got to pretend, I had to deal. And the doctors (plural. ugh) had a lot to tell me about how I couldn't fuck around anymore. Face sufficiently slapped once again by that asshole, reality. I hate that guy.

Sometime around the millennium, I was working in the basement of some insurance company where the CEO only knew me as "sweetie", and going home to a husband who liked to punch me in the face sometimes. I had two little babies and in hindsight, a horrifying lack of insight. I went to a psychotherapist and tried desperately to get him to tell me I was hopelessly mentally ill. He wouldn't do it. I think it frustrated him that I preferred having a diagnosis born of chemical imbalances or genetics instead of just a wretched string of circumstances that led me to feel like I did. You can just take a pill to deal with a clinical diagnosis. He was proposing that I had to, like, gain a bunch of awareness and work out my shit. Who the fuck wants to do that when your mind is fully occupied by your small children, your full time shitty, unsatisfying job, and a gem of a husband who thinks you are Mike--um...Mika Tyson. I preferred to be fully crazy in the clinical sense. So, I'd go to therapy. I'd get mad at him for saying I wasn't a giant fruit basket. And he'd get mad at me for saying I was. Probably the best therapy I ever had, for the record, and I've had a lot. (Have you thought about counseling. hahaha)

So, I did what any self respecting, barely 20something, screwed up gal would do. I divorced my therapist (not my husband) and decided to volunteer in a field that fights the very thing I came home to every day. I became a Court Appointed Special Advocate for abused and neglected children. Yes, I appreciate the irony of it now, and in a far less mature way, did then.

 I fell in love. THIS was my calling. You just know when you find it; that THING that you're SUPPOSED to do. I wasted no time in stopping all that volunteer stuff, divorcing the asshole, and going back to school for the express purpose of becoming a Child Protective Services Investigator. There was no other goal. That was all the goal I had. 3 years later, I graduated. Two years after that, I finally got the job. Ironically, my husband (a different one) was in a mental hospital the day I started, but that's a story for another day.

I didn't quit that job the first time. I mean, I technically did, but I didn't want to. Life threw me more curve balls (Babe Ruth, baby) and it all just fell apart. I was pretty much forced out of the job by life, a bit of a mental breakdown, some hearty misunderstandings, a murder-suicide plot (I was the murder victim piece of that) and a trio of paranoid, bitchy bosses.

I did a lot of things in the interim, including running off to Mexico and getting that goddamned diagnosis, but I reapplied for the career I chose over and over again until finally, 8 months ago, I got the job again. And I was overjoyed. I truly was. I loved that job! I'd wanted it back for years. It was everything I liked about work. I'd have preferred to be back in Mexico sipping margaritas and not giving a shit about anything, but who wouldn't, right? But that wasn't the reality I was in.

Two months after I started my job, I missed a doctor's appointment. This may sound like nothing to most of the non-chronic-diseased world, but when you have that damned reality happening like I do, that's kind of a big deal. Because I missed that appointment, I ran out of medication. Because specialists in our lovely healthcare system are as they are, I couldn't get another appointment for almost 2 months.

Some PA I'd never seen before took mercy on me and gave me a few of my meds back because his wife had my particular diagnosis and he (and his polka dotted bow tie) were beautifully sympathetic. But I didn't get the important ones back. The ones that make you really sick when you start them and take 3 months to adjust to. I had to quit those. Cold turkey. That went pretty well for me. Two months later, I started them again. And so came the really sickness. Two months after that, I had to quit them again because I couldn't do my job. And I got sick from that, again. If you're keeping score, my 8 months is up. And I've spent 6 of it in health nightmare.

And then I took that damned test and had that damned Come to Jesus moment with my doctors (plural). And it all came crashing down, again. I was sucking at my job. I was sucking at my health. I was sucking at my happiness. All around, I was just sucking. And then the doctors (plural) tell me (in a nutshell) if I keep doing what I'm doing, I'm just going to die. Let's not mince words here. I will just fucking die. My disease will attack the important parts like those two flaps in your chest that make you breathe and that muscle that pumps your blood around with it's rhythmic thump thump thump. So, for all my denial, I mean strength (ahem), it was face slapping reality time. I had to give a shit. And I had to give a shit now.

So, I quit my job.

And the next day I went to my office and I was relieved and happy. Until about lunch. Then I cried for 4 hours. (Have you considered counseling. Bwhahaahaha).I didn't cry for the job, I guess. I mean, I hadn't particularly enjoyed it this time, given that I was doing it whilst feeling like I'd run a marathon, with the flu, after being run over by a truck, for 6 of 8 months.

I cried because I'd never had to quit a job because of this (far too many expletive pronouns) disease. I'd never had this dumb thing - a thing that I stayed in denial about, that sent me to Mexico, that made me throw my bucket list into high gear, that had caused more tears then all 47 or so of my failed marriages and abuses and traumas combined -- have any real effect on my career. What? My life, yeah. My relationships, fuck yes. My thought processes, uh huh. My ability to open a jar of pickles, damn skippy. My entire outlook on life, Oh yes sir.  But my career, um. no. I guess I figured it wouldn't until it was straight up time to go on disability and rev up my electric, off-road, hybrid flotation device wheelchair. No, that didn't occur to me.

I never HAD to quit a job because I just couldn't DO IT. I had to leave my dive instructor course one day because I couldn't swim against the current towing a grown man in decent surf once. ONE DAY. Another day, I managed it. I had to take a leave of absence for a couple months once because life sucked too much. I've quit because I just didn't want to anymore. But I'd never had to quit a job so I didn't DIE. For fuck's sake, I'm 38 years old. I'm THIRTY EIGHT YEARS OLD.

And I am chronically broken and have to figure out how not to die.

And it was devastating. It IS devastating. This was my chosen career. This was my favorite job. This was my calling, my AHA job.

Not to brag or anything, but I'm the strongest bitch I know. What the fuck is happening?

Then I had to realize, it isn't just this job. I won't be able to do a lot of jobs in my profession. Stress is not allowed. Stress makes me sick. Stress will kill me. Wait. What? Stress is an integral part of my career. It's in the job description. It's like, the thing I like. I can't just not work as a CPS investigator, I can't work as a crisis counselor. I can't work as a case manager. I can't work as a social worker. I can't have a job that has my very favorite part of my career, DRAMA. I'm not allowed. Because I will fucking die. What the fuck?

What the hell do I do now? No, seriously, what do I do now?

In case anyone is wondering, travel the world and live on beans and rice in third world apartments has crossed my mind at least 374 times in the past 10 days or so. I'll let you know if I can work that out while maintaining my brand new car payment and raising the two kids I have left in the house. Somehow, I feel like maybe that time hasn't come yet. But, then again, I haven't had any Jack Daniels yet either.

(Maybe I should consider some counseling.)

Still my little blonde firecracker

And still... going into college. My little blonde firecracker.

Raising myself

Updated on May 11, 2012

Paying for my raising more and more...

I’ve learned that there is little that can help you learn about yourself more than raising your children.

My son. My darling little blond-haired firecracker. My sweet little man who inspired me more by his mere birth than anything ever has or will. My baby…

Is turning into a teenager.

He yells and screams. He says things to me that he knows will hurt me and he says them because he knows they will hurt me. He looks me in the eye and tells me, in his own way, that he thinks I am stupid and old and can’t understand. He looks at me as though I’ve slighted him. He looks at me like it hurts him somewhere inside to have to tolerate me. He looks at me like he wishes I would disappear so he could go on with his self. Talk to his girlfriend. Keep his secrets. Throw a football to his friend and use curse words. He looks at me like I can’t possibly understand.

I understand. Every scream that comes from his lips. Every jab he throws at my psyche. Every eye roll. Every secret. Every curse word. Every overly over reaction. I understand.

Because he is me. I am my mother and father. I can read his mind because it was my mind once. I know what is bubbling under the surface of his resistance.

It is reassuring. Reassuring because “I turned out OK.”

It is distressing. Distressing because it was a grueling, tumultuous road from the first bubbling to the OK I feel today.

My little blond firecracker with his over achievement and his maniacal passion. Will he have to endure the pain, the terrible mistakes, the lifelong repercussions? Will he survive and someday be strong, armored, self aware, open and closed, happy? Will it take so long? Will it be so hard? Will he survive? Will he learn and grow?

The hardest thing I’ve ever learned about the human mind is that knowing does not give an automatic answer to knowing how. I know my little firecracker. I know him from his pinky toe to his uncut hair. I know what’s bubbling there. I don’t know how to guide him. I had to guide myself. I resented anyone who tried to guide me then and now. I have my own compass. Can I be his? Will it drive him away if I try? Does he have to find his own way? Will he survive?

Will he be contented?

Polar Bear in a Snowstorm

So I was looking through an old blog and came across this post. I wrote this years ago.... It's interesting. I remember feeling this way pretty much all the time. Like I was too tired, too worn, too fuzzy to move forward. I wrote it in a time when I wasn't really battling with any real emotional things. It was just life that was wearing me out. So. Very. Tired. I know why now. And I don't feel like this anymore (or well, most days anyway). I remember distinctly telling my doctor; "Look. I just know something is wrong. Other people can get get up in the morning and do normal life things and still have energy. I don't. Haven't for a long time." Heh. There's a diagnosis for that. And although I'd always suspected it was some sort of manifestation of chemical depression, turns out, it was just two little asshole letters: R.A. 

Polar Bear in a Snowstorm

Some days it's hard doing it on your own

On days like today, I just don’t know which way to face. I try to face to the north. To me, the north is looking up. Forward. I guess because on a map, north is up. It seems optimistic. If I face south, I’m looking down. But the beaches and sunshine and beauty are south. The places I’d like to be now, instead of where I am. The east has the sunrise and the west has the sunset. So I guess north is really a disadvantage. All the things I love are other directions. In any case, I’d like to be looking up.

I’m not.

I feel like I’m drowning in this cesspool of everyday things. Why does it seem like everyone else can handle these things and I cannot? Wake up, go to work, work all day, come home, cook dinner, go to a baseball game, watch TV, go to sleep. It all seems so simple.

It’s not.

I wake up feeling yesterday. That first waking moment, I’m confused. Every morning, I’m confused. What day is it? What am I supposed to be doing today? Where are the children and have I missed something already? What will my life be like today? Which hat do I need to put on first? Who am I this morning? Which Shannon? WHICH ONE?

Then comes the panic. Funny how I should wake up every morning in a panic. I reach for the phone or the appointment book or the kids school calendar. I reach to see what I’ve missed. What I’ve dropped. Who I’ve let down now. I look around to see if anyone is beside me and listen to see if my kids are making morning noises. I look at the clock. The clock. Every morning, without fail, I look at the clock and wish for it to rewind. I want more time. More sleep. More, more, more. Please. Just a little more.

I lay back down. Always. Why? Because that’s when the air around me gets really thick. Thick, soupy, oppressive air. It pushes down on my shoulders and legs, my hands and feet. It pushes and I concede. For those few minutes in the morning while I’m wishing at the clock, I let it hold me down. I just give in to the crushing, oppressive air and I lay there. I let it win. I let it hold me down. I wish for more time just to lay there and let it hold me down. I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of trying to beat it. I just want to stay there.

I can’t.

The thoughts of everything that is my reality bustle around me. I feel like I’m inside a TV with no reception. I am behind all those fuzzy white dots somewhere. I’m the image you can’t see. And all those fuzzy white dots are all things I need to care about, need to do, need to accomplish, need to say, feel. They’re swirling and churning and buzzing. I’m drowning under them. And the noise makes a pain in the back of my head and I want to turn it off. It’s a swarming mass, like gnats or fruit flies, hitting me in the face and blurring my everything. I catch little snippets of all of them as they pass by my ears. All at once yet one at a time. And I just lay down and wait for them to devour me.

They try.

And the urgency sets in. As much as I want to give up, I cannot. I think, every morning, that I could lay there and let it all just take over if not for the children. I must get up. I must work. I must eat. I must gather all of my eggs and begin juggling because I must maintain this life for my children. I must feed them and feed myself to stay alive so I can feed them. I must give them everything. I must maintain. I must. I must. I must.

And I get up and I go on. And I take ibuprofen to ease the ache of the world pushing down on me. And I look around for someone who can understand. Someone who can help. Someone who can turn off the TV. Someone who can help me juggle the eggs so that none of them break. And I drop a few here and there and they break.

But I go on 

Oh yeah? Well Im going to go live with my Dad then!

So often I find myself being kicked in the rear by karma. Even if it is a silly, simple declaration about how much I hate cats or that fibromyalgia is not a real disease, life has this way of taking my very strong, misinformed, declarative s and showing me how my words taste with Sunday dinner. And sometimes, karma has a really hard, painful lesson waiting for me that's years in the making. Lessons that inspire phrases like "If I knew then what I know now..."And my teenage son is the catalyst for one of the hardest lessons I have had to swallow. Wisdom, I've found, rarely comes with ease, but at the end of a long treacherous road of bad decisions and soul pain.

Im at an age where my friends are in varying stages of parenthood.  Some have planned carefully or maybe not and are becoming parents just now or have adorable little toddlers wrecking their sanity yet stealing their hearts 100 times a day. But many are like me. They find themselves with teenagers embarking on young adulthood and the image of those little pudgy babies and sticky hands are far in the past. (If they're a lot like me, they can't even imagine going back there at this point and don't know how all those middle aged new parents find the energy.) Teenagers. They'll teach you a thing or two. If you've never called your own parents and apologized for ever being a teenager, consider yourself lucky (or ignorant to reality). Either way, teenagers are a challenge under the best of circumstances. But I've never claimed to have the best of circumstances, now have I?

Back to karma. There's a trend I see with my peer teenager parents. It wrenches my heart every time. I feel for them. I feel for them because it has happened to me. I know how much it hurts. How terrifying it is. How it feels like a divorce only from someone you love far more deeply than a spouse. Someone you've literally poured all your energy and love and strength and care into. Someone you'd die for.

And then they say "Im going to live with my Dad/Mom/Grandparent/whoever because they love me more and you SUCK and I hate you."

Knife meet heart. Anger. Rage. Indignance. Tears upon tears upon tears. Paralyzing Fear. Self doubt. Depression. More anger. More fear. More rage. More tears. Determination. More self doubt. Mounds of regret. Blame. Shame. Guilt. More depression. More rage. More indignance. And then, if you're lucky, some clarity and acceptance.

But in all those feelings, 99 percent fail to realize the karma of it all. I haven't. My son has done the Dad thing more than once. And I blamed Dad as a "brainwasher." I was angry at my son for his hurtful words but I always managed to employ a self defense of believing my son was brainwashed and didn't REALLY feel that way about ME. He always came back, after all, when he realized that the grass on Dad's lawn wasn't made of gold and perfection either and maybe he didn't hate me so much after all. It was when he "ran away" and decided to demonize me and move in with my parents that I really had to soul search. That's when the knife cut deep. Because I can demonize his father all day, but did my parents brainwash him? They're not always my biggest fans but it was a far stretch to believe that my parents would do what I'd believed his father had done in the past years. I'm not saying my defenses didn't go there, they did, but it took a lot of stretching to believe they would intentionally try to take my son from me while my poor innocent son was simply a victim. No, this was on my son. He said and did the things to convince my parents that he was better off out of my house and influence. And even more of a shock to my reality, he'd probably done that with his Dad as well. And I'd pitied him. And coddled him. And helped him learn how to act this way. Hello karma.

Here's the mistake I made that makes ME responsible. Here's my karma. I taught him that it was ok to hide from his father in my arms. I taught him it was ok not to respect his parent. I taught him it was ok to demonize his parent in favor of ME. I even ENJOYED (yes.) when he demonized his father. I didnt do this when he was younger (regardless of what his father may believe) but when he became a teen and started to see what that grass was made of, I openly played along and was glad that he'd finally "figured out" what a (insert whatever here) his Father was. And we bonded over making fun and being disgusted by his parent. Sigh. Hindsight. If I'd known then and all that.

But guess what? It wasn't just his father I'd done that with. It was in other relationships as well. I'd let my sons participate in angry or petty or downright ugly sessions cursing and plotting imaginary fantasy revenge against other men I'd ended relationships with. As a disclaimer, I never did any of the things and I did DISCUSS with my sons that venting was ok and even necessary sometimes but that you shouldn't act on those things. But acting wasn't the problem. It was the disrespect for the human. The lesson I taught them about ending relationships and dealing with feeling wronged. I taught them that it was ok to hate, even for a little while. But more importantly, I taught them how to demonize and detach with total disrespect.

I taught my son how to treat people who he was hurt/disappointed/angered by or even just needed to healthily detach from. I did that. And karma showed me that it wasn't innocent. I was wrong. And that boomerang has now hit me square in the face.

My mother told me, when this all blew up: "You taught him to be this way." I was so angry she'd said that. There was so much she didnt understand at that moment. But, as with many things that truly infuriate me, it was because there was a recognition of truth to it. I had taught him a thing or two about how to be this way. There are a few things he did in this process that I didn't teach him. Those things are someone else's karma. I wont address those because thats just more fingers pointing away from me. And that's not the point here.

I taught him with no bad intentions. I taught him thinking all along that I was being fair to the other people involved. They "deserved" my anger and disrespect and hate. I taught him when I wasn't even trying to teach him, but was only trying to survive myself. I taught him how to treat ME right now. Because he needs to detach from me. (The hundred normal and abnormal reasons for that are for another time) And in his detaching, I am learning valuable lessons. Humbling lessons. Painful karmic lessons.

So, here's my advice to every mom and dad and otherwise child influencing person that's earlier in the process of learning than me. No matter how much you hate the other parent (or otherwise authority figures), pay attention to the lessons you're teaching them about how to deal with those feelings. Because when you find yourself with the inevitable "I hate you" teenager moment, they're going to treat you just the way you've taught them to. Coparenting will pay off in the long run no matter how much teeth gnashing you have to do to accomplish it. (And trust me, I get hating the other parent for immensely justifiable reasons. But that's between you and you only.)

As a caveat, I want to add that I think there's a significant societal problem that is being created by the prevalence of divorce and one parent households and all associated things that is creating a generation of children who can "get away with" running off to another parent/grandparent to avoid discipline or working out normal conflict and challenges. A problem we, as a society, need to overcome by learning to work better together and put our own feelings aside. I failed at that and even when I tried, the other parties failed at that. And now, my son is living with my parents and running away from BOTH of his parents. I cant speak for his father, but I can quell my self doubt enough to know that I dont need to be run away from. Im not perfect, but Ive been a good enough Mom.

But Karma.

Blanket Fuck You Letter

My blanket Fuck you Letter:

Dear ________,

This morning I drove to work smiling and listening to songs that made me want to dance and laugh and run off to the beach instead of going to work. I giggled at the people staring at me when they drove by because I was singing loud and proud along with the radio. I felt heartily compelled not to go to work today. But I went anyway. I felt compelled to pick up the phone and yell at some people, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to go back home and crawl in bed, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to go somewhere and throw things at someone, but I didn’t. I felt compelled to keep driving and get on a plane at DFW and disappear, but I didn’t. I turned up the radio and I sang loud and laughed and giggled and went to work. Because, that’s what I do. I go on. I move forward. I push those feelings aside and I smile and laugh and dance and go to work and come home and do whatever it takes to make myself not do all those other things. And you know what? FUCK YOU! For the shit you’ve said to me. About me. For your judgment and disappointment and your BULLSHIT words and your blaming and dwelling and resentment and disowning and backstabbing and LYING. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU!

Let me lay this shit out for you:

I have been married to three abusive assholes and a mentally ill drug addict and divorced FOUR fucking times. I have had to completely start my life over from fucking scratch SIX times. I’ve had to “disappear” to get away from someone who was threatening my life TWICE. I’ve had to leave everything comfortable behind over and over and over again. I’ve had to let go of people, places, things, jobs, money, husbands, security, family, EVERYTHING that people hold on to with all their might OVER and OVER again. I’ve been beaten, raped, abused in every manner even conceived by people who were supposed to “love” me. I have been told about TEN THOUSAND TIMES what a stupid, ugly, fat, horrible, mean, psycho, disgusting, horrible, intolerable, mentally ill, et fucking cetera. I’ve been called a bad mother more times than I could even begin to count. I’ve been called a disgrace, an embarrassment, a shame, a failure, an awful woman and human in every sense of the word. I’ve been blamed for things I wouldn’t do, things I didn’t do, and things other people did. I’ve been shamed for doing the right thing and praised for giving up and doing the wrong thing. I’ve been stepped on and pushed aside and ignored and attacked. There are FEW things that a woman can go through that I cannot say “been there.” And guess what? I am in a happy, healthy relationship for the first time in my fucking life with someone who is ACTUALLY NICE to me and would literally KILL anyone who did any of the above things to me. So F U C K  Y O U!

I have some godawful fucking diseases. This afternoon, after I go home from work, I’m going to take a needle and inject it into my thigh like I do every Thursday. This morning I took my 8 morning pills. Tomorrow, I’m going to muster the strength I have and grab a cup of coffee and I’m going to go to work packing up my house to move somewhere where I WANT TO BE with the people I WANT TO BE WITH. I’ll hope that my FOUR DEBILATATING, CHRONIC, LIFELONG, LIFE SUCKING diseases won’t act up too much and I can get at least MOST of the shit I need to get done, DONE. And if they do act up. I will do what I can and then I’ll go watch Netflix and NOT APOLOGIZE FOR IT. BECAUSE FUCK YOU!

Two years ago, I moved to Mexico. I didn’t DREAM about it. Or WISH I could do it. I FUCKING DID IT. I went from envying people who did it to BEING SOMEONE WHO DID IT.  I’ve crossed out over HALF of my Bucket List and COUNTING… I’ve EXPERIENCED things I WANTED to experience and I intend to NOT STOP until I’m DEAD. So FUCK YOU! 

Through all the shit that was going on in my life for the past TWENTY YEARS, I managed THREE THINGS.

 I managed to get one HELL of an education and collect at least 6 different career options. All of which I could chuck out the window to work at Sea World if the mood struck me. Because that’s WHO I AM!!!! And I FUCKING LIKE ME! So FUCK YOU!

And I managed to raise my sons despite it ALL. I was not a perfect mother. I was, as a matter of fact, an extremely imperfect mother. And I continue to be. And THAT’S OK! But you know what? I taught my kids right from wrong. I gave them an example of what STRENGTH REALLY LOOKS LIKE. No matter how much they may want to complain NOW, I took them to experience life in another country. I have showed them how to ADAPT. I protected them so much from the SHIT of my life that they actually BELIEVE that me yelling at them or some man calling me a bitch ONE time is ABUSE. LET THAT FUCKING SINK IN. THIS is what THEY believe is abuse. They have NO IDEA what abuse REALLY looks like… They have NO IDEA how bad shit CAN BE Because I PROTECTED THEM FROM REAL ABUSE. SO  FUCK YOU EXTRA!

And GODDAMMIT. I managed to get in my car this morning, put some happy songs on the radio and fucking smile and laugh NO MATTER WHAT. Because I don’t give two fucks what happened to me yesterday or what disease I have or what judgmental BULLSHIT I have to listen to OR that my 17 year old is being a total teenage JERK right now. I don’t care WHO is pissed that I’m moving WHEREVER I WANT and who is TOTALLY BUTTHURT that I won’t apologize for it. I smiled. I laughed. I didn’t throw anything at anyone. I’m not in the mental institution. I’m not a bitter bitch who hates all men, and people, and lettuce and telephones and EVERY GODDAMNED THING.  I could be. I have every GODDAMNED RIGHT to be one of those people. But I AM NOT.  I’m one of those people who gets in the car, does whatever it takes to smile and be positive, and then goes to work fully contented.

So, FUCK YOU! And I forgive you. And I love you. And I wish you everything good. Because, that’s WHO I AM. Assholes.

Namaste, 

Shano

What the heck Codependency?

There's probably some reason you're reading this post. Maybe someone called you codependent? Maybe you've heard me call myself codependent. Maybe you internet searched it for some reason or another. And maybe you don't know what it is. Maybe you think you do.

First, it's important to note that anyone who's codependent is going to be immediately irritated, if not enraged, by the label co-dependent. The first time it was suggested to me that I was co-DEPENDENT, I spit out some response to myself that I wasn't DEPENDENT on ANYONE! I was IN-DEPENDENT not CO-DEPENDENT. It's all THOSE mother #$#%@s that were DEPENDENT on ME. I was CERTAINLY NOT dependent on THEM!  Heh. Um. Yeah. I was as codependent as they come. So, if your immediate response is similar to mine (including internal &*^#$^s), I hate to break it to you, but you need to keep reading.

What does Codependency mean? 

What is it?  Some describe it as an addiction. And in some ways it is. But your substance is not any drug or drink, it is relationships, love, a person or people. Some say it is less of an addiction and more of an obsession. If you were throwing expletives at the word dependent, you're probably throwing double expletives at the word addiction. Keep reading. 

These relationships, loves, people have some very specific characteristics, namely, you believe or perceive that they're "messed up" in some way and they NEED your help or they're completely unable to be emotionally available to you. And yes, you can detect this subconsciously and not realize that's what you're doing. Either way, these specific criteria are important to the codependent. 

The term codependent was originally defined as a person in a close relationship with an alcoholic or addict that has developed certain maladaptive traits in order to maintain these relationships. There's a long history of these identified behaviors, even appearing in the Alcoholic's Anonymous Big Book under the heading "For the Wives." Al-Anon was formed for family members of addicts and alcoholics in 1951. But the label didn't really appear until The 1980's with the publication of a series of books that I'll discuss later.

With research and time and the self report of people who identified with the "symptoms" of codependency, it has revised over time to be understood as a maladaptive, compulsive, self defeating set of behaviors that are learned, usually from childhood, in order to survive in a family system that is dysfunctional and distressed in some way. It is still quite common for a codependent person to have developed this as a family member of an alcoholic or addict, but this is no longer exclusive to addiction dysfunction. The family system may involve mental illness, chronic physical illness, abuse of all kinds, or even codependence itself. I've even encountered a (raging) codependent whose primary childhood dysfunction was religious zealousy. In any case, the codependent has developed this set of traits as a way to adapt to the environment they'd found themselves in and survive either physically or emotionally. Essentially, the codependent was originally a victim of some type of dysfunction. (If you're still reading, you stopped the expletives at that, didn't you? Well, you're not going to like the next sentence.) Once they've developed these traits, they take them into other relationships or family systems and become either a partner or the origin of dysfunction in this new place. 

What Do Codependents Do? 

But what does a codependent DO? What are they like?  And why do I keep using that (**$&* dependent word? As I've said, codependent seek out and become involved with people who are not (and cannot be) emotionally available to them; who have dysfunction; who need "saving"; who are addicts or alcoholics; who are abusers; who are "needy"; who are "messed up". No matter WHAT their dysfunction is (often all of these at once), there is one thing that persists; the person needs to be "fixed."  And MAN OH MAN, codependents are the superheroes of "fixers." They have capes and go into phone booths and come out to get to work. Except.... 

Before I get to that, I want to say that codependents have the best intentions. Codependents really believe they are doing what is right, helping, taking care of, acting in the best interest of, and falling on the sword for their "person" or "persons." They believe they are needed and their help, even if not wanted, is warranted and necessary. Except.... 

Codependents are so focused on their person (or persons) that they address ONLY that person's needs and behavior and care (and flaws, and problems, and shirt, and hairstyle, and zipper). They do not address their own. Their entire life becomes about that person. As a client once said; "He swallowed me." Or as I've often described it, the person had so much dysfunction that there was no air left in the room for anyone else to breath. Except there was air. I chose to give it all to my person and leave none for myself. When I pressed that client, she admitted; "I guess I actually swallowed him." 

Codependent become martyrs who always focus on the other person. It makes sense, doesn't it? If you grew up with a dysfunctional parent, you always had to focus on that person to keep yourself safe or take care of that person, or accommodate that person. You had no time to address any of your own needs or develop any of your own coping skills. You were too busy. So when you got older, you sought out people who were familiar and you thought this was how it was supposed to be. You were the caretaker, they were the center of attention and their needs were the only needs that mattered. You try to save them the way you either tried, or were too helpless to, save your parent. Even if you were basically neglected as a child and were essentially invisible, you did everything you could to gain the approval or attention from that parent. You had to grow up and be the responsible person and care for yourself, you weren't given enough emotional security to develop into an emotionally healthy adult. You learned nothing about boundaries in any case. And as a codependent, you have none. 

So, so far this sounds great. As a substance abuse counselor, I sometimes share the types of things I would do in my various relationships for alcoholics or addicts. They inevitably make jokes that they wish they'd have had someone like me in their lives when they were using! Someone only thinking of them and taking care of them. And I laugh and laugh and laugh and LAUGH. Because after that, I tell them the rest of the story. 

Codependents are setting themselves up for failure on every level. First, they get involved with people who they want to meet a need for. They NEED to feel needed and important in order to feel worthy. Codependents generally have very low self esteem that they keep hidden under a strong, stable, and "in control" outward appearance. They begin to try to control the relationship and their person. They begin to do their much needed job of fixing that person, often right down to their shoe lace choices. They begin to do everything for this person. They may make excuses for their behavior. They may take over their duties. They may work and allow that person to stay home because they are just so "broken" that they can't work, but then come home and also take care of the home and children and responsibilities as well. They may pull strings to get their child out of legal trouble. They may hide the behavior of the other person from the persons family or employer. At one point, I was not only working 60 or more hours a week to support one of my (many) persons, but I was also doing all the paperwork for his unemployment, relentlessly pushing mental health treatment on him, spending all of my energy "keeping him sober" and making excuses to anyone who inquired about his behavior. And I created that situation. It was voluntary. I was doing what I wanted to.

Except I was angry. I was controlling. I was a total bitch. And I resented him immensely. I was angry that he never met my needs. I was angry that I was having to work so hard and monitor his every mood. I was angry I had to take care of him. And guess what, he never did get "fixed." Nothing changed. He'd do this or that to appease me, but it would last a moment and he'd go right back to what he was doing. I had set myself up for failure. And I became a completely horrible, angry, nagging, controlling bitch. I didn't like myself. I didn't like him. I also had no idea that I'd become this. So I'd dig even deeper to do it all MORE because he needed fixing MORE so that he could finally be good enough to make me happy. I finally hit my breaking point and left the relationship. 

And I was destroyed. I was desperate. I felt like I had lost the love of my life. Because, codependents are "dependent" on being needed. They are "dependent: on dysfunction. They are "dependent" on controlling the other person. We mistake this for love. We are dependent on that other person. And when they're fully honest with themselves, they realize they were also terrified of the other person actually getting better and getting "fixed." And this is selfish. The codependent fears three things: 1. They will no longer have a purpose if they aren't needed. 2. Their person will no longer "love" them and abandon them if they do not need them anymore. 3. If they no longer have to focus on the other person, they have to look at themselves. 

Essentially, codependents are controlling, angry, resentful, miserable people who essentially have a very limited sense of self, are terrified of being abandoned, and are inherently selfish. Yet, they have good intentions and have no idea they are these people and feel like martyrs. It's complicated. And painful. And extremely confusing. I know, I've been there. 

Ok. Can I get a list or something?
The Traits of Codependents: 

There are 500 resources for finding lists of codependent traits. In my both professional and person opinion, there are two sources that nail it. These are two of those books I talked about earlier. Janet Woititz wrote a book in 1983 called "Adult Children of Alcoholics." In it, she creates the Laundry List for adult children of alcoholics (addicts/dysfunctional parents/narcissists/insert your own messed up type of parent). This list can also be used to describe behaviors/feelings of the founding dysfunction of codependents. Some ACOA (adult children of alcoholics) turn into addicts themselves, but in my personal estimation, 90% of them become codependents in one form or another. 

The Laundry List (Woititz, 1983)

1. Adult children of alcoholics guess at what normal behavior is.
2. Adult children of alcoholics have difficulty following a project through from beginning to end.
3. Adult children of alcoholics lie when it would be just as easy to tell the truth.
4. Adult children of alcoholics judge themselves without mercy.
5. Adult children of alcoholics have difficulty having fun.
6. Adult children of alcoholics take themselves very seriously.
7. Adult children of alcoholics have difficulty with intimate relationships.
8. Adult children of alcoholics overreact to changes over which they have no control.
9. Adult children of alcoholics constantly seek approval and affirmation.
10. Adult children of alcoholics usually feel that they are different from other people.
11. Adult children of alcoholics are super responsible or super irresponsible.
12. Adult children of alcoholics are extremely loyal, even in the face of evidence that the loyalty is undeserved.
13. Adult children of alcoholics are impulsive. They tend to lock themselves into a course of action without giving serious consideration to alternative behaviors or possible consequences. This impulsively leads to confusion, self-loathing and loss of control over their environment. In addition, they spend an excessive amount of energy cleaning up the mess.

But to get to the heart of codependency, I turn to my (and many other's) favorite expert on codependency, Melody Beattie. In her book, Codependent No More, she spends half of the pages defining and provided examples of codependency. She has an exhaustive list of codependent traits. I will include this list at the end of this article. She also developed a shorter checklist to determine if you are a codependent: 

Codependency Check List - Melody Beattie from Codependent No More. 

• Do you feel responsible for other people–their feelings, thoughts, actions, choices, wants, needs, well-being and destiny?
• Do you feel compelled to help people solve their problems or by trying to take care of their feelings?
• Do you find it easier to feel and express anger about injustices done to others than about injustices done to you?
• Do you feel safest and most comfortable when you are giving to others?
• Do you feel insecure and guilty when someone gives to you?
• Do you feel empty, bored and worthless if you don’t have someone else to take care of, a problem to solve, or a crisis to deal with?
• Are you often unable to stop talking, thinking and worrying about other people and their problems?
• Do you lose interest in your own life when you are in love?
• Do you stay in relationships that don’t work and tolerate abuse in order to keep people loving you?
• Do you leave bad relationships only to form new ones that don’t work, either?

If you feel, after reading this that you might be a codependent, Codependent No More (and the following Language of Letting Go) are ESSENTIAL reading. If you can relate to the Laundry List, Adult Children of Alcoholics will change your life. Both of these books literally saved my life. And my copies are full of penned notes, highlights, tattered and worn. You can purchase both via amazon for five bucks or less.

What do I do about it? 

Ok. You suspect you might be codependent. The answer to the above question is pretty straightforward. Unfortunately, there is no "treatment" specifically for codependency like there is for addiction. You'll need to seek out a therapist. Be forewarned, you'll need to shop around for a therapist that is competent in codependency and has resolved their OWN codependency! I recommend starting with addictions counselors and going from there. They will either be able to treat you themselves or be able to refer you to someone who knows what they're doing with a codependent. Alternatively, look for therapists that list addictions and codependency in their specialties. Some therapists, sadly, do not know what codependency is, much less how to treat it. And even more sadly, many therapists are codependents who have no idea that's what they are. (We are all HELPERS and FIXERS after all.) Having a codependent counselor treat a codependent is a disaster waiting to happen.

Second, find the appropriate self help group and GO. You may be afraid at first, but GO. Trust me. Al-Anon is magnificant, especially if your "person" is an addict of any kind. ACOA (Adult Children of Alcoholics) is also amazing even if your parent's dysfunction was not addiction. CODA (Codependents Anonymous) is IDEAL, but often difficult to find outside of metropolitan areas. You can find meetings in your area by visiting each of these groups web pages. You can also attend meeting only TRULY anonymously on websites like stepchat.com (my personal favorite).

And read those books I recommended.. ASAP!

A few more notes on Codependency: 

So there are a few more things I want to say about codependency before I turn you loose on the long, long list of characteristics below. 

1. The treatment for codependency is debated. Some believe that it is a temporary condition that can be treated and moved past. Some (myself included) believe that it is more like addiction or a mental disorder that requires lifelong treatment, either through 12 step support or maintenance mental health support. You make your own choice. I have "relapsed" in my codependency when I stopped going to meetings and thought I was "cured." This convinced me I'll always need support. 

2. The journey of recovery from Codependency is one of the most raw and painful things I've ever gone through. It takes guts, and humility, and open-mindedness, and a lot of self forgiveness. But it's the best thing I've ever done for myself. If you are truly codependent, it'll be the best thing you ever did for yourself. Trust me. 

3. Codependency is complicated. Some characteristics won't apply to you. Some will. It's not definitive. We're all different. We all got it somehow. We weren't born with it. You may NOT have gotten it in childhood. It's possible that you didn't; rare, but possible. Keep an open mind, but realize that it is not one size fits all. 

4. If you're reading this and thinking "MAN! That is JUST LIKE Julie (or whoever). I HAVE to tell HER about this to HELP HER"... you might want to re read this whole article and have a look in the mirror, then maybe share it with Julie (or whoever). 

5. Codependency can be passed down through generations. If this resonates with you, but you're afraid to admit it or get help; think about whether you want your children to feel how you feel. (PS. Alateen is awesome!) 

Ok, here's the list I promised. Thanks for hanging in here with me through all these words. 

Excerpted from Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself by Melody BeattieCharacteristics of Codependent People

• Caretaking: Codependents may:
  • think and feel responsible for other people for other people's feelings, actions, choices, wants, needs, well-being, lack of well-being, and ultimate destiny.
  • feel anxiety, pity, and guilt when other people have a problem.
  • feel compelled almost forced to help that person solve the problem, such as offering unwanted advice, giving a rapid-fire series of suggestions, or fixing feelings.
  • feel angry when their help isn't effective.
  • anticipate other people's needs.
  • wonder why others don't do the same for them.
  • find themselves saying yes when they mean no, doing things they don't really want to be doing, doing more than their fair share of the work, and doing things other people are capable of doing for themselves.
  • not know what they want and need or, if they do, tell themselves what they want and need is not important.
  • try to please others instead of themselves.
  • find it easier to feel and express anger about injustices done to others, rather than injustices done to themselves.
  • feel safest when giving.
  • feel insecure and guilty when somebody gives to them.
  • feel sad because the spend their whole lives giving to other people and nobody gives to them.
  • find themselves attracted to needy people.
  • find needy people attracted to them.
  • feel bored, empty, and worthless if they don't have a crisis in their lives, a problem to solve, or someone to help.
  • abandon their routine to respond to or do something for somebody else.
  • overcommit themselves.
  • feel harried and pressured.
  • believe deep inside other people are somehow responsible for them.
  • blame others for the spot the codependents are in.
  • say other people make the codependents feel the way they do.
  • believe other people are making them crazy.
  • feel angry, victimized, unappreciated, and used.
  • find other people become impatient or angry with them for all the preceding characteristics.
• Low Self-Worth: Codependents tend to:
  • come from troubled, repressed, or dysfunctional families.
  • deny their family was troubled, repressed, or dysfunctional.
  • blame themselves for everything.
  • pick on themselves for everything, including the way they think, feel , look, act, and behave.
  • get angry, defensive, self-righteous, and indignant when others blame and criticize the codependents something codependents regularly do to themselves.
  • reject compliments or praise.
  • get depressed from a lack of compliments and praise (stroke deprivation).
  • feel different than the rest of the world.
  • think they're not quite good enough.
  • feel guilty about spending money on themselves or doing unnecessary or fun things for themselves.
  • feel rejection.
  • take things personally.
  • have been victims of sexual, physical, or emotional abuse, neglect, abandonment, or alcoholism.
  • feel like victims.
  • tell themselves they can't do anything right.
  • be afraid of making mistakes.
  • wonder why they have a tough time making decisions.
  • expect themselves to do everything perfectly.
  • wonder why they can't get anything done to their satisfaction.
  • have a lot of "shoulds."
  • feel a lot of guilt.
  • feel ashamed of who they are.
  • think their lives aren't worth living.
  • try to help other people live their lives instead.
  • artificial feelings of self-worth from helping others.
  • get strong feelings of low self-worth embarrassment, failure, etc. from other people's failures and problems.
  • wish good things would happen to them.
  • believe good things never will happen.
  • wish other people would like and love them.
  • believe other people couldn't possibly like and love them.
  • try to prove they're good enough for other people.
  • settle for being needed.
• Repression: Many codependents:
  • push their thoughts and feelings out of their awareness because of fear and guilt.
  • become afraid to let themselves be who they are.
  • appear rigid and controlled.
• Obsession: Codependents tend to:
  • feel terribly anxious about problems and people.
  • worry about the silliest things.
  • think and talk a lot about other people.
  • lose sleep over problems or other people's behavior.
  • worry.
  • never find answers.
  • check on people.
  • try to catch people in acts of misbehavior.
  • feel unable to quit talking, thinking, and worrying about other people or problems.
  • abandon their routine because they are so upset about somebody or something.
  • focus all their energy on other people and problems.
  • wonder why they never have any energy.
  • wonder why they can't get things done.
• Controlling: Many codependents:
  • have lived through events and with people that were out of control, causing the codependents sorrow and disappointment.
  • become afraid to let other people be who they are and allow events to happen naturally.
  • don't see or deal with their fear of loss of control.
  • think they know best how things should turn out and how people should behave.
  • try to control events and people through helplessness, guilt, coercion, threats, advice-giving, manipulation, or domination.
  • eventually fail in their efforts or provoke people's anger.
  • get frustrated and angry.
  • feel controlled by events and people.
• Denial: Codependents tend to:
  • ignore problems or pretend they aren't happening.
  • pretend circumstances aren't as bad as they are.
  • tell themselves things will be better tomorrow.
  • stay busy so they don't have to think about things.
  • get confused.
  • get depressed or sick.
  • go to doctors and get tranquilizers.
  • became workaholics.
  • spend money compulsively.
  • overeat.
  • pretend those things aren't happening, either.
  • watch problems get worse.
  • believe lies.
  • lie to themselves.
  • wonder why they feel like they're going crazy.
• Dependency: Many codependents:
  • don't feel happy, content, or peaceful with themselves.
  • look for happiness outside themselves.
  • latch onto whoever or whatever they think can provide happiness.
  • feel terribly threatened by the loss of any thing or person they think provides their happiness.
  • didn't feel love and approval from their parents.
  • don't love themselves.
  • believe other people can't or don't love them.
  • desperately seek love and approval.
  • often seek love from people incapable of loving.
  • believe other people are never there for them.
  • equate love with pain.
  • feel they need people more than they want them.
  • try to prove they're good enough to be loved.
  • don't take time to see if other people are good for them.
  • worry whether other people love or like them.
  • don't take time to figure out if they love or like other people.
  • center their lives around other people.
  • look to relationships to provide all their good feelings.
  • lose interest in their own lives when they love.
  • worry other people will leave them.
  • don't believe they can take care of themselves.
  • stay in relationships that don't work.
  • tolerate abuse to keep people loving them.
  • feel trapped in relationships.
  • leave bad relationships and form new ones that don't work either.
  • wonder if they will ever find love.
• Poor Communication: Codependents frequently:
  • blame
  • threaten.
  • coerce.
  • beg.
  • bribe.
  • advise.
  • don't say what they mean.
  • don't mean what they say.
  • don't know what they mean.
  • don't take themselves seriously.
  • think other people don't take the codependents seriously.
  • take themselves too seriously.
  • ask for what they want and need indirectly--sighing, for example
  • find it difficult to get to the point.
  • aren't sure what the point is.
  • gauge their words carefully to achieve a desired effect.
  • try to say what they think will please people.
  • try to say what they think will provoke people.
  • try to say what they hope will make people do what they want them to do.
  • eliminate the word "no" from their vocabulary
  • talk too much.
  • talk about other people.
  • avoid talking about themselves, their problems, feelings, and thoughts.
  • say everything is their fault.
  • say nothing is their fault.
  • believe their opinions don't matter.
  • wait to express their opinions until they know other people's opinions.
  • lie to protect and cover up for people they love.
  • lie to protect themselves.
  • have a difficult time asserting their rights.
  • have a difficult time expressing their emotions honestly, openly, and appropriately.
  • think most of what they have to say is unimportant.
  • begin to talk in cynical, self-degrading, or hostile ways.
  • apologize for bothering people.
• Weak Boundaries: Codependents frequently:
  • say they won't tolerate certain behaviors from other people.
  • gradually increase their tolerance until they can tolerate and do things they said they never would.
  • let others hurt them.
  • keep letting people hurt them.
  • wonder why they hurt so badly.
  • complain, blame, and try to control while they continue to stand there.
  • finally get angry.
  • become totally intolerant.
• Lack Of Trust: Codependents:
  • don't trust themselves.
  • don't trust their feelings.
  • don't trust their decisions.
  • don't trust other people.
  • try to trust untrustworthy people.
  • think God has abandoned them.
  • lose faith and trust in God.
• Anger: Many codependents:
  • feel very scared, hurt, and angry.
  • live with people who are very scared, hurt, and angry.
  • are afraid of their own anger.
  • are frightened of other people's anger.
  • think people will go away if anger enters the picture.
  • think other people make them feel angry.
  • are afraid to make other people feel anger.
  • feel controlled by other people's anger.
  • repress their angry feelings.
  • cry a lot, get depressed, overeat, get sick, do mean and nasty things to get even, act hostile, or have violent temper outbursts.
  • punish other people for making the codependents angry.
  • have been shamed for feeling angry.
  • place guilt and shame on themselves for feeling angry.
  • feel increasing amounts of anger, resentment, and bitterness.
  • feel safer with their anger than with hurt feelings.
  • wonder if they'll ever not be angry.
• Sex Problems: Some codependents:
  • are caretakers in the bedroom.
  • have sex when they don't want to.
  • have sex when they'd rather be held, nurtured, and loved.
  • try to have sex when they're angry or hurt.
  • refuse to enjoy sex because they're so angry at their partner.
  • are afraid of losing control.
  • have a difficult time asking for what they need in bed.
  • withdraw emotionally from their partner.
  • feel sexual revulsion toward their partner.
  • don't talk about it.
  • force themselves to have sex, anyway.
  • reduce sex to a technical act.
  • wonder why they don't enjoy sex.
  • lose interest in sex.
  • make up reasons to abstain.
  • wish their sex partner would die, go away, or sense the codependent's feelings.
  • have strong sexual fantasies about other people.
  • consider or have an extramarital affair.
• Miscellaneous: Codependents tend to:
  • be extremely responsible.
  • be extremely irresponsible.
  • become martyrs, sacrificing their happiness and that of others for causes that don't require sacrifice.
  • find it difficult to feel close to people.
  • find it difficult to have fun and be spontaneous.
  • have an overall passive response to codependency--crying, hurt, helplessness.
  • have and overall aggressive response to codependency--violence, anger, dominance.
  • combine passive and aggressive responses.
  • vacillate in decisions and emotions.
  • laugh when they feel like crying.
  • stay loyal to their compulsions and people even when it hurts.
  • be ashamed about family, personal, or relationship problems.
  • be confused about the nature of the problem.
  • cover up, lie, and protect the problem.
  • not seek help because they tell themselves the problem isn't bad enough, or they aren't important enough.
  • wonder why the problem doesn't go away.
• Progressive: In the later stages of codependency, codependents may:
  • feel lethargic.
  • feel depressed.
  • become withdrawn and isolated.
  • experience a complete loss of daily routine and structure.
  • abuse or neglect their children and other responsibilities.
  • feel hopeless.
  • begin to plan their escape from a relationship they feel trapped in.
  • think about suicide.
  • become violent.
  • become seriously emotionally, mentally, or physically ill.
  • experience an eating disorder (over- or undereating).
  • become addicted to alcohol and other drugs.

The preceding checklist is long but not all-inclusive. Like other people, codependents do, feel, and think many things. There are not a certain number of traits that guarantees whether a person is or isn't codependent. Each person is different; each person has his or her way of doing things. I'm just trying to paint a picture. The interpretation, or decision, is up to you. What's most important is that you first identify behaviors or areas that cause you problems, and then decide what you want to do.

God, as I understand Him...

There are a lot of things I know. When I am sitting silently across from a client and they try to find the words to share some experience with me, I know. Those experiences resonate.  I know what it feels like to be desperate. I know what it is to feel so alone that you’d cling to anything just to make the feeling stop. I know the crumpled in a heap on the bathroom floor, writhing in soul pain, screaming from the agony of it. I know the point where there is no more air for screams, only silent attempts turning to breathless gasps into the tear puddle. I know the confusion of shame-guilt-obligation-intense-fear, maybe even some version of love-but how can it be-I can’t leave-I can’t stay-I feel INSANE, I’m so ALONE feeling of a woman who has been beaten with fists or words or devastating emotional warfare. I know the conditioned submissiveness that holds that rage of injustice so far down that you no longer know which way the surface is; slowly, miserably drowning. I know what it feels like to do anything to stay alive, survive, hold on for one more day, hour, minute, second, to keep from finally just drowning completely. I know the desperation of sitting and pondering whether to just tie a rock to your ankles and end the misery. I know that low when you truly feel that would be a better choice for everyone. And I know what it is to muster all that you have left to stand up and fight for your life. For your children's lives. For survival. 

I know how silly it feels to to know that you're far too old and should not still cry like a child over something your parents have said to you. And I know how those words still sometimes dig straight into the deep wound you’ve covered with bandages all your life that you hoped would have healed by now. But it hasn’t and it hurts like it was freshly cut.  I know what it feels like to hate. Truly hate, with the venom of a thousand snakes, where your lip curls, your teeth bare instinctively every time you think of it. I know what it is to truly understand how someone can sadistically rip apart another human being with their bare hands in a primal rage. I understand that rage. And I know the deep shame and guilt of blaming it all on yourself. Being unsure if you haven't, in fact, been to blame for every bit of everything. To feel fundamentally bad, broken, unlovable. I know it deep inside me. My chest hurts when I think about it. Any of it. All of it.

I hold back tears sometimes when people sit across from me and try to find words to describe it. They look at the floor because they’re sure I won’t understand. They’re sure no one will understand. How could anyone understand? But I just reassure them that I know. I truly, deeply know. I don’t just pretend to know as a show of support. I really know. Sometimes I give them some of the words and then a flood of adjective and adverbs come out of their mouth like a good vomit that they’ve held back for too long. And I understand. Their relief is palpable. I know.

Yes, there are a lot of things I know. I know what a bad relationship feels like. I know the nagging little tug of that voice in the back of your head just whispering “something isn’t right” and “don’t do this” no matter how hard you try to ignore it. I know how it feels to just call yourself damaged or paranoid or unable to trust and say that it must be the reason that that voice is trying to talk to you. But you know. That voice is the truth that you know no matter what anyone else out THERE, outside of you says otherwise.  I know what it feels like to be so desperate for love or attention or not being alone or just ANYTHING to give you ANY hope again that you stifle that voice. And reason with that voice. And tell that voice to shut the fuck UP because you are GOING to be happy THIS time! I know. Lord knows that I know! I know how that voice taunts you later with “I told you so” and you feel so ashamed, so wrong, so utterly STUPID for not listening to it.  I know what a bad relationship feels like from beginning to end. I know every version of it. I know all the variables. More than anyone I've ever met, I KNOW a bad relationship.

And I am not in one.

Why would anyone believe that? I realize that I’ve become incredibly untrustworthy in that regard. I wouldn’t believe me either. And interestingly, I don’t really care. Because that voice, that one in the back of my head, is telling me “this is right” and “do this” and “this is what you’ve been trying to find” no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. And trust me, I tried to ignore it. I tried to beat it into submission with a baseball bat whittled out of all my scars, stab it with the thousands of blades of all my past mistakes, drown it the sea of regret that lives inside me, but it didn’t shut up. It never does, does it? It just gets louder the longer you don't listen.

I also know what it feels like to listen to it and do what it says. It feels a lot like laying in a lazy river and letting the current drift you forward while you lay back and feel the sunshine; relax into the tranquil calm that you longed for on the harder days. I know a lot of things. I know enough to listen to that voice. I know enough to not listen to anyone else more than that voice. That voice has a lot of experience. That voice knows much more than I do. It certainly knows much more than all those people out there, outside of me. It knows more than people who don’t KNOW. It never shuts up, not really. It always has something to say. You can’t reason with it and convince it that it’s wrong. It’s never wrong. You can just ignore it and feel the uncomfortableness of it when you do, but it always wins eventually. It KNOWS.

Some people call that voice God.

I call it something else. It doesn’t matter what you call it, it’s never been wrong. All you have to do is shut up and listen.

So, I understand that I am not trustworthy. I understand why there is so much doubt and why I am to be regarded as an idiot who has no idea what is good and bad and certainly cannot make good decisions for myself. I do, completely, undeniably, inarguably understand.

But, I’m not trusting me. I’m trusting that voice. It’s never lied to me before. It's never wrong. It has no other motive.

I’ve never listened to it from the beginning before, only after I’ve become desperate from defying it. I trusted it to take me to Mexico and I trusted it to bring me back. So, I will continue to trust it because the calm warm sunshine on the lazy river feels a lot better than all those other things I know.  It’s time to know more than hurt and shame and guilt and rage and soul pain.

And the only guidance I can trust is right inside me.

Namaste.