Codependent Sunday

My counselor says that not every problem in life has a solution. She says that some things just don't have a definitive right or wrong answer. For me, that simply does not compute. In my job, if there is a complaint or a problem, I work it out until the issue is resolved. Then, I jot down some good notes, and file it away. It's fixed. End of story. So to accept that some of the issues in my life may not have a resolution, is a hard pill for me to swallow.

I am a fixer. I am a people-pleaser. I am a rescuer. I am massively codependent. How the hell am I supposed to accept the fact that I can't control or fix aspects of my life that feel effed up to me?

I've been writing this journal now for nearly three years. It is supposed to document my journey "out" of codependence. But no matter how hard I claw and dig to climb my way out, I always seem to grab hold of something slippery, and slide right back down to the pit from where I first started. When that happens I feel hopeless, stupid, and totally disgusted with myself. I try to reach into my mind and remember all the things I've learned. I try to think of detaching, of letting go of that which I have no control. But sometimes it just doesn't work. Right now is one of those times.

While everyone in my life seems content and happy, I regularly feel like my head is about to explode. While others seem to have no problem at all accepting "what is", I feel as though things are totally and completely out of control. Madison says things aren't out of control at all, it's just that some things are simply out of MY control.

There are things in my life that are not so great, but there are a lot of things that are very good. Yet I seem hell bent on ruining them by picking them apart. I don't get that about myself, but I know for sure it's born out of my need to control everything and possibly everyone around me. It also comes from my massive insecurities, and an absolutely insatiable need to feel loved and wanted.

I keep thinking back to Del Shores' tweet: "You don't need everyone to love you". But even more so I get the fact that his friend had to remind him of that in the first place.

My counselor has a sign up in her office that reads "It Is What It Is". People like me would be so much happier if we could just accept that. How sad that we so desperately want to jump up and scratch out those words and write "It Will Be What I Want It To Be".

I'm going to go upstairs now and soak in a nice hot bath. I'm going to pray for peace and wisdom in dealing with those things that I'm told have no answer--things I can't fix and file away. I'm going to say over and over again:

God grant me the Serenity to
Accept the things I cannot change
Courage to change the things I can and
Wisdom to know the difference

Dang You, Lionel Richie!

This morning I got an email from my friend Old Beth. She said that she was driving to work this morning and a song came on the radio that reminded her of when we were 16 years old, carefree, and living at home with our folks. She said she started crying so hard she had to change the station.

I don't know that we truly felt carefree at 16, although in our late 40's, it sure seems like we did. I'm sure we had our problems. Back then all we could think about was getting out and being independent. Making some money and getting married.

Today, sometimes I don't like being a big girl. The responsibilities can be overwhelming.

Journaling 1981 Style

I'm sitting up in my bed with my laptop, well....on my lap, trying to think of something to write in this journal, and then it hit me. I was thinking of doing this very thing 30 or more years ago. Well, sort of.

As a teenager, I would retreat to my bedroom at night, then lay awake listening to the radio. Sometimes I would draw, sometimes I would read my "Living Bible" and underline all the scriptures I thought were interesting. Once in awhile I would sneak the phone (which looked identical to the one pictured here) up under my bed covers and ever so slowly and quietly, dial someone's phone number and have a late night chat. But usually I would write. I had all sorts of stationery that I used for letters to my girlfriend Kim, who had gone off to college at UofK. I wrote to my girlfriend Gale in Ohio, and letters to my boyfriend Chris W. after he went in the Marine Corps. I wrote letters and drew pictures for everyone. I had journals, and like now would write the things I was thinking or feeling at the time.

But in those days it would have been almost impossible to imagine the technology of today. I'd be listening to an iPod, not a radio with dials. And the stationery has been replaced by electronic messaging. I'm not sure that back then I could have dreamed that virtually every person in the world would have an entire library of information at at their fingertips. No more writing to the guy at the local newspaper to ask the name of a movie you saw a few years back. Just Google it.

But some of these things are a lost art. Radio DJs who could actually play the songs they wanted to play, and who had the freedom to play your late night request if you called in. The beauty or humor of colorful stationery and colored ink. All gone.

It would have been hard for me to imagine the different struggles I write about today. Even though some are remarkably similar to the ones I had in those days, many are not.

I love today's technology and the freedom it gives us, but often I do feel nostalgic for the way things were in 1981.

The Leaf Dance

I had the strangest experience driving to work yesterday morning. It was a little abstract, I hope I can describe it so you might be able to visualize and share it with me.

I was driving down a road that is heavily lined with very old, very large trees. At that particular time of the morning, the entire street was in shade. But beams of light shot straight down through the trees, making spotlights on the road. Many of the trees were shedding their very small, round shaped leaves, and the little yellow leaves covered the road. There was only myself and the car about 5 car lengths ahead of me.

"Benny and the Jets" had come on the radio, and was at the part where Elton John plays a catchy, almost burlesque type piano solo. As the car ahead of me drove over the tiny leaves, they whirled up in the air, danced around, and fell back down to the ground in the most beautiful, delicate way. I felt like they were doing a special little dance, just for me. A little sign that Fall is coming.

It only lasted for several seconds, but the petite little yellow leaves spotlighted by the sharp morning sun, gracefully dancing to the beautiful music of one of my favorite artists, made me feel so happy. It was like I got a special little present that no one else in the world was given.

Will You Love Me Forever??

In case you aren't familiar with him, Del Shores is a talented film director, writer, and producer. He is probably best known for his play "Sordid Lives", which later became a film, and eventually a short lived television series. It's a cult favorite, with fans (including Scarlet and myself) able to quote lines from every scene. Del Shores is also a self proclaimed codependent. We should hang out sometime.

In April, 2010 I posted a wonderful quote about codependence from one of Del's plays.

Today I came across something Del posted on Twitter earlier this year. I liked it so much I'm going to share it too:

"You don't need everyone to love you" great quote from Robb. Thanks... this codependent needed to hear that tonight!"

Madison and I have had some discussions recently about this very thing. Why do codependent people so desperately want other people to want them and to love them? Why do we worry, worry, worry about this all the time? Is it because we don't fully love ourselves? Sometimes I have to wonder if it's even possible for us to ever feel loved enough. I'm not sure it is. There's always this insecurity that the other person is going to leave us, lie to us, or love someone else more.

Words That Stick

Words are powerful. Sometimes you can say something, or someone can say something to you that sticks in your head forever. Words or phrases you will never, ever forget as long as you live. Sometimes you remember it because it made you happy, or sad. Maybe it was erotic. Maybe it shocked you, or maybe it changed your life forever. For me, here are some that spring to mind.

Sally, to me: "How far away is all the time dread?"
Scarlet, to me outside the Luxor in Las Vegas: "It's as hot as damned Egypt!"
Me, to my husband when we were dating: "I think I'm falling in love with you"
My gynecologist, to me: "What's going on with you?"
My psychiatrist, to me: "I feel pretty confident I can help you"
My therapist, to me: "Sometimes there's not a way to fix things"
Me, to my therapist: "Is that okay?"
My husband, to me: "Right now I'm here, but one day I'm going to be here"
Our neighbor Dorothy, to my mother: "They just said on the news that Elvis died"
My friend Kathie, to me: "Michael Jackson is dead"
My mother, to me: "One of the Beatles was killed last night"
Someone named Sandy who used to work with me, to me and my coworkers: "My husband just called and said the space shuttle blew up"
Some guy at a bar, to me: "You have the most beautiful lips I've ever seen"
Miss Pamela, to my husband and me: "There's the blue van!"
My husband, to Robert Plant: "I love you, man"
My mother-in-law, to me: "I know I can never take the place of your mother, but I swear to you I love you like I love my own children, and I will always be there for you"
My boss, to me: "Remember...it's just a job"
Kitty, to me: "Life is complicated"