In my second marriage, I became codependent. I did everything in my power to keep everything glued together in spite of having a drug addicted husband and a second child who adored his dad and believed he hung the moon, stars, and sun…second only to God himself. I was queen enabler, always trying to keep the peace in the midst of turbulent waters, looming devastation, and impenetrable lies. Like most people, I am not a fan of change. Unlike many, I will give anything my all until I am at negative 100% and failing.
Eventually, I had to quit that marriage because I had neither trust, nor respect, nor love left for my husband. It took me about 4 years longer than anyone around me accepted.
In my last relationship, I tolerated arguing that I didn’t understand, caused grief and accepted more, and went to bed countless nights angry, weeping and hopeless. We took turns with passive-aggressive, pride-driven behaviors that resembled that of 18 year olds, and yet we loved each other like passionate loved-crazed 20-somethings. That last part resulted in my over-staying my welcome, again remaining in that relationship longer than anyone accepted so that I was well pass the point of happy, and straight to the point of no return. I lost all sanity. Until one day, I realized it and broke up. All sanity came charging back into my life in that moment.
For whatever reason though, two weeks later, I am in worse shape than I was right after I ended it. I remember the good times now. Because for the last year of my life, I grew to be co-dependent once again. My daily routine included constant attention via texts, little shimmerings of humor to take the edge off my daily stresses, and of course, reminders of his love and affection. It’s just plain stupid how I got so caught up in those little reminders and yet truly believed that I wasn’t ‘addicted’ to them, like pills or maybe even crack! He was my crack! So much so that I now find it difficult to crawl out of bed because there are no more ‘good morning’s’, or ‘babes’ to get me through the morning hustle.
In short, I had no idea how much I’ve grown to ‘need’ that attention from him. Is it enough to go back? No, I know it isn’t. I know we weren’t right together because nothing that’s ‘right’ is supposed to be that painful. I believe that my next time around will be the forever kind. It simply has to be. I will not settle for a hundred red flags without raising a white one. I will not settle. Period.
While I’ve posted before about how ‘deserve has nothing to do with it’, I also believe in a kind God who knows that that this chick has learned herself a lesson or two. I am a loving person, but when I feel threatened, scared, or inhibited because of someone’s temper, I cannot show that love. I crawl inside of myself and hide. I take my pride along for warmth and wear it until the coast is clear.
So in a sense, I’m holding myself accountable, right here on a blog. Here for anyone to see. Because my habitual co-dependence needs to finally be replaced and transformed into habitual independence as I learn to crawl again.