I Thought It Was Mutual

I am co-dependent. I have known this for a long time. If you aren't familiar with it, here is a short list of co-dependent behaviors:
1) Think and feel responsible for other people - for other people's feelings, thoughts, actions, choices, wants, needs, well-being, lack of well-being and ultimate destiny. 2) Feel compelled - almost forced - to help that person solve the problem, such as offering unwanted advice, giving rapid-fire series of suggestions, or fixing feelings. 3) 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.

It is really painful to have weak boundaries. When you fail to “let your yes be yes and your no be no,” others can walk all over you. All the while you believe you are doing them a service. You believe you are helping them. You know you are protecting them and want what is best for them so you go to great lengths to ensure that they are well and happy and that their needs are met. I have done this. I have shackled myself in the bonds of imaginary obligation and expectation.

I would like to be totally free, but I can’t be. That’s a co-dependent statement right there. I feel helpless to change because of the pain it might cause others. Separation seems cruel. When I am away I worry and feel guilty about whether my loved one feels rejected, abandoned and lonely. When I walk in the door and can attend to his needs, reassure them of my love, I feel a sense of relief and control. I feel responsible for his happiness. I know that when I am around, my loved one’s life is far better and my self-esteem is improved. I am a good caretaker.

Another area of dysfunction I deal with is has to do with physical limitations. You see I have a loved one who is always asking for my help. He has the ability to do things but is afraid. Often I make myself available so he no longer feels trapped in his circumstances. He needs my encouragement and I am compelled to help him. There are some things he can’t do alone. He needs me and because of all I do for him, he loves me. Most importantly, I feel loved because I am needed.

This morning, I tried to encourage one of my precious loved ones to move past his comfort zone and eat on the deck in the dappled shadows of summer’s oaken canopy. He wanted to go inside but several times I said, “No, I want to stay out here.” In the long run, he won again. I went inside the house for his sake. I sacrificed my desires for his, again. I am a martyr.

Over the years, as I learned of my dysfunction, I realized that one way I cope is by choosing to invest in those who are less demanding. I’ve met many selfless people who have taught me to balance caretaking with self-care. This has afforded me expression of some of my own needs, wants and desires. I have become somewhat free. In all honesty, however, we chose a golden retriever because they are among the least demanding. Tucker is generally very low maintenance dog yet we have succeeded in enabling him. We just can’t help “helping” him. Apparently, a dog’s life is too much for our dear pooch to bear.

We hate leaving him because we know he doesn’t like to be alone. He won’t push his way through a doorway so it means we won’t even bother with a doggie door even though it would make our away trips far less worrisome if we knew he could get outside to go do his doggie doo-dooty. I did not enjoy my hot cup of coffee on the deck this morning while Tucker ate his rawhide because he just didn’t want to eat the thing outside.
We have enabled him to be an indoor dog. It is our fault. Instead of him being our best friend it turns out, we are really HIS best friend. And all this time... I thought it was mutual.....and that I had put my co-dependency behind me.