The Codependency Tango

Usually when I leave my therapist's office, I feel lighter and brighter and definitely more hopeful.  This week, I learned I'm more damaged than I had originally believed.  My life is a veritable smorgasbord of psychotherapy from which to pick and chose.  I'm certain a good social worker or psychotherapist will want to select one diagnosis or painful experience and start with that.  That's fine for organized therapy, but for me, I'd like to work on the problems as they pop up and affect my life.  For example, right now, I'm starving and my choices are left over Swedish Christmas cookies or chili lime almonds.  NOT a happy camper! 

In my head, I picture my issues as one of my kids' long ago, infant, pop-up toys, bump a button and a random toy pops up.  So it is with my problems, a random mental jostling, a scent, a sound, and my issues burst forth unbidden.  Lately my pop-ups have been, in no particular order:  PTSD, co-dependence, and lack of self esteem.  As my PTSD is remaining mostly in check:  nightmares and startle reflexes few, I've been researching co-dependency (still pisses me off!) and self esteem.  There are a lot of theorists who link low self esteem to issues that occurred in childhood.  Let me share the following quote so you can see where I am going with this.

"This dance of Codependence is a dance of dysfunctional relationships - of relationships that do not work to meet our needs.  That does not mean just romantic relationships, or family relationships, or even human relationships in general.  The fact that dysfunction exists in our romantic, family, and human relationships is a symptom of the dysfunction that exists in our relationship with life - with being human.  It is a symptom of the dysfunction which exists in our relationships with ourselves as human beings." - Codependence: The Dance of Wounded Souls by Robert Burney

It would seem that Burney is saying codependencey begins with our dysfunctional relationships with ourselves, in other words, seeing ourselves poorly or low self esteem.  Feeling that we are unlovable in our primary relationships and more importantly, unlovable to our very selves sets the stage for codependency in our relationships with all others.  Burney's theory for treating codependency is largely one of healing your inner child.  Now don't shake your head just yet.  I was right there with you doing the  Daily Affirmation With Stuart Smalley, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggonit, people like me!" (Don't forget the lisp; it's just not the same without it!)  The more I read, the more I'm coming to believe there may be something to this "inner child" bullshit.

"In order to start being in the moment in a healthy, age-appropriate way it is necessary to heal our "inner child." The inner child we need to heal is actually our "inner children" who have been running our lives because we have been unconsciously reacting to life out of the emotional wounds and attitudes, the old tapes, of our childhoods." Robert Burney

I'm certainly not advocating one particular method of therapy and I am definitely NOT taking a one-size-fits-all view of treatment for abuse victims.  We all need to come to our own healing in our own time.  We may find that healing in a textbook or by talking to a friend.  Whatever form it takes, it is innately personal and individualized.  My goal is to share what works for me and to allow you to share my journey.  In this way, I am not alone.  And neither are you. 

We'll chat more about the ridiculous but strangely therapeutic loving your inner little girl tomorrow.  Till then, if you need me, leave a comment.

The Best Advice I Didn't Take

*Update*  Fuck the co-dependant shit.  He was a diagnosed psychopath and narcissistic personality disordered monster.  I wasn't co-dependent; I was a hostage.

I research a thing to death.  If I can define it, I can control it or so I like to believe.  For many years, I wouldn't give a name to the events occurring within my marriage.  I would not call it "abuse" or "domestic violence" or "assault".  To do so would open up the possibility that I was a victim in the situation, a condition I could not bear to acknowledge.  Being afraid to give a name to what was happening prevented me from finding my voice and finding a "cure".  Even worse, failing to acknowledge the hideous damage done to me prevented me from seeing that the friend I leaned on for comfort and support would eventually reveal himself to be more of the same.  How does the children's song go, "Second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder and a little bit worse"? 

I allowed my issues, the co-dependency and the absolutely crippling lack of self-esteem blind me into believing I could not leave my dangerous marriage by myself, could not take care of myself.  Raised in an extremely patriarchal culture, I believed if I was simply a good enough wife and good enough mother, I was good enough and my husband would take care of me.  Well, if by take care of you mean rape and batter, then I was definitely well taken care of. 

I've attached a link, an eHow guide to rebuilding your life after domestic violence.  The instructions seem deceptively simple.  Do not disregard.  They are true and work if followed.  Today, I will reapply the instructions and get back on the path to recovery.  http://www.ehow.com/how_2310911_build-life-after-experiencing-domestic.html

Today, I will tell myself:

• I am proud of all I have accomplished.
• I am my own best friend.
• I love and forgive myself for all past mistakes.
• I recognize my many strengths and acknowledge the existence of ones I've yet to discover.

Today, you will, too. 

"I am so buying this mug."  --Betty aka Wonder Woman

Christina Aguilera - Oh Mother (With Lyrics)

Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer;

nothing is more difficult than to understand him.

-- Fyodor Dostoevsky

Happy Thoughts

Some days I receive more phone calls from the police and attorneys than I do friends.  And friends, well, I have "air friends" but not any human friends.  Having friends was a risk the abuser couldn't take.  Someone might see.  Someone might know.  Better to keep her in her Ivory Tower where he can have her all to himself.  The Ivory Tower offered a measure of safety.  In it, I didn't have to deflect comments about men looking at me.  In public, he wanted me to wear suggestive clothing and then became angry when flashing flesh drew attention.  Never been a big fan of having it both ways.  Never been a big fan of showing off my bod either, but hey, it wasn't my body. 

I digress (I think that's my middle name).  Today, the phone call was to emphasize that acording to some sort of domestic violence algorithm, I am in immediate danger.  I'm not certain how to approach this.  On a cop show, I'd be wisked away in a fluffy wig and dark glasses to a safe location.  But I am not a witness in a mafia drama and this is my reality.  As an educated adult (at least my student loans seem to think so!) I am uncertain what my next move should be. 

If I am missing or dead....

Amy's Courage

Public shout out to Janine Latus, author and advocate.  http://www.janinelatus.com/  Without her book, I would have stayed in the cyclone.  If you plan on donating to charity this year, please consider Ms. Latus' organization, AMY'S COURAGE FUND http://www.nnedv.org/projects/amysfund.html.

The Abuse Addict

People are consistently surprised at how “normal” they appear. They aren’t. Yet they aren’t all identifiably insane madmen, macho misogynists, or anxiety ridden neurotics. In fact, they look no different from the man who delivers your mail, who bags your groceries, who writes your prescriptions, who catches a game winning goal. We expect that hurtful people will look the part. We want them to. We need them to otherwise, all the tiny whisperings of something not quite right go unheeded because he looks so normal.

And he acts normally, too. When indicated, the abuser plays the part he wants the public to see: helpful neighbor raking leaves, adoring father cheering from the sidelines, loving and attentive husband. To the abuser, there are three sets of people: those he abuses, those he can abuse, and those he can’t.  For each group, he must memorize the part to be played never forgetting his lines.  The abuser is always “on.” For those he can’t abuse and for future victims, the abuser is pleasant and witty, always charming, always misunderstood. To his victims, the need for pretense was lost long ago. He appears as he is:  angry, intense, agitated, edgy. He remembers the last conquest, the feel of the surge of adrenaline in his veins at the start of confrontation, the smell of his victim’s sweat and tears heavy with fear, the consuming power and excitement seeing his victim defeated and broken. This is his drug.  The abusive man is an addict. He is addicted to the brutality as a form of self-maintenance. The only time his shaky self-confidence is intact, the only time he feels powerful, the only time he is whole, is valued, is loved, even, is when he is locked into a violent conflict.
Defeat is not enough. Total annihilation of the victim’s psyche is the goal. It is not enough to merely batter. The abusive man becomes sexually excited at the height of his confrontation and many will culminate the abuse with sexual assault. "Look," he says to her, "I have beaten you and will take what is mine. Neither you nor anyone will stop me, I am that powerful."  Spent, the cycle begins again.

For more on the Cycle of Violence, please click the link.  http://www.shelterforhelpinemergency.org/page19.html