Finding out about codependency was difficult, and yet it was relieving. I learned that I was not just dysfunctional, bad, crazy or weak. I learned that there was a definite pattern to my behavior and reasons why I thought, felt and acted like I did.
But I still did not know why.
I learned that I was an enabler, and that my need for approval and affection caused me to neglect my beliefs and foundation, and behave in ways that were opposite to what I knew and understand as good behavior.
My husband's addiction to cocaine became so bad that he looked like a walking zombie. He was skinny, his clothes hung off of him. He was yellow in color with black circles under his eyes. He was always sweaty, and yet cold. He could hardly laugh or smile anymore - and he was miserable to be around. His mood was always angry, unless he had scored and he was high. Then, he could talk, he could smile, he could pretend like he cared for a few hours, until he became too high and then he couldn't talk anymore he could only lay on the couch with the clicker, staring at the TV.
I tried to just separate from him. I moved into my own apartment in Florida. I tried to live away - but I kept getting dragged back in. Until finally I was able to leave, I was able to get myself back home.
I left my husband in Florida and I moved back to Colorado with my family. I sent my kids off with my parents, and I drove across the country by myself. Ready to start over again. Ready to start alone. Ready to be done with this marriage and this chain to addiction and dysfunction. I lived with my parents, I got a new job, I attended al-anon and Coda meetings. I started to feel better and better. I got terrible letters from my husbands family in Miami. I received phone calls too telling me how terrible it was for me to just forsake him and walk away in his time of need. Then finally, one of his sisters told me that she was able to get him a bed in an inpatient rehab center. What a relief!! Finally - tough love had paid off. I told his family and him, that if he went to rehab, he could move out Colorado and we could be together again. My family was outraged at this decision.
And he did. He moved to Colorado. And he was sober - clean. For a time. It wasnt too long before he connected with old mates and started using again, thinking that he was hiding it from me, thinking that I did not know. But the signs were there. Our relationship would deteriorate, his working would become less and less, his weight would start falling off. But of course, he would deny it. And we would fight. I would even call him in sick because he would beg me and beg me to do so. I think back on that now and feel embarrassed for myself. I did not want him to lose his job. I needed for him to have that job!
In looking back on my relationships or my longing for relationships, I realized that I was willing to put myself in jeopardy, and do things against my morals in order to be liked and to be part of someone else's world. I was so needy. I so enjoyed being the center of attention for someone even if that someone was not good for me. Matter of fact, I couldn't even see that a person wasn't good for me, they just became someone who approved of me and wanted me in their life and I needed that so badly.
In the survival mode that my life was in I learned to be very good at controlling. I was always good at leading, commanding and taking control in people's lives, but now it was life or death. Through the development of the skill of controlling, subconsciously I took away other's ability to function on their own. I took away their life skills, their coping skills, their thinking skills and their motivation. Why would they need to do anything for themselves, if they had me. A therapist once told me that I emasculated men when I was in a long term relationship with them. My need to take care of all their needs, so they needed me, took away their strength and their independence.
My husband's drug abuse became so bad that I could not leave the children alone with him. I had to hire my nephew to babysit anytime that I needed to leave to the house, even if my husband was home. He was lazy and irresponsible, and always high. He did not interact with the kids or me, unless it was a special time. His focus was on sports on TV, golf, and drugs. Our fighting became bad. We would yell at the top of our lungs at each other. And then I would go silent. I could be silent for days in my relationship with him. I was not consciously doing this to hurt him, or punish him, I did it because I had nothing to say to him, and I was disconnected from a relationship with him. I was so angry with him, and so disgusted by him. I would fantasize while I was cooking dinner, and he was laying on the couch in the room in front me about putting the back end of hammer through his head.
My eldest son was deeply effected by my relationship with my husband, his step father. He witnessed his laziness, his rudeness and our fighting. He witnessed him spitting in my face and saying mean nasty things. He hated him.
My youngest son became so sensitive to raised voices, that even now almost 15 years later he has trouble with confrontation and conflict. Someone being angry with him, or feeling badly about anything makes him very uncomfortable.
My father spoke to me often about my relationship. Although he knew my husband and knew his intelligence, he also knew of his addiction and our problems. He told me that I needed to make a contract with myself so that I stopped rationalizing and so that I could remember the timeline of events and the patterns of fighting etc that were occurring in our day to day life. So I did. I followed his advice and made a contract with myself about what I would tolerate and what I would not tolerate any longer. The contract included the number of times that I would allow the fighting and the drug pattern to happen again in the space of six months. The contract included the number of times I would allow him to steal from me and this including anything money, jewelry, music cds. kids piggy banks etc. The contract included the number of times I would tolerate him calling into work because of drug use, or not contributing to monthly budget for any reason. It was a contract to hold me accountable and for me to keep a record of wrongs. It was my first introduction to the concept of Boundaries.
What? Boundaries? What is that? I had no idea what boundaries were or how they applied to my life. My life had big blurry grey spaces as boundaries, not solid black lines. People could walk all over me in relationships, and I could also invade their space too. The concept was completely foreign for me.
So what was to happen at the end of the 6 months when the boundaries had indeed been violated over and over again. Well, my father had another great idea. At that time it was a conversation and a contract with my husband where I told him about the past 6 months and showed him my contract with myself and my record of the past 6 months. And then I entered into a 60 day contract with him. He had to take drug tests from me that I bought at Walgreens. He could not fail once. He had to begin treatment, he had to participate in chores with the house and family events. If any of the terms were violated he would have 30 days to move out, and I would see to it, with the help of police to move him out.
Well I was certain that he would comply and that this would save our marriage. However, 60 days later, I was telling him he had 30 days to move out and that I was not budging. It was over. This lesson in boundaries was hard for me to complete, and follow through with, but because it was all written down, I could no longer rationalize or make excuses. I had to walk through the fire of this.
Boundaries,.... what a person can do when they are defined and maintained in a healthy way who knew.
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