So last night, I'm on the way back from my home group, and taking DramaGoddess back home to the opposite side of town first... yes, she's one of us and she goes to my meeting with me sometimes now. And I'm talking to her about stuff... like how we feel emotions, and how we think, and how we react, and how we can do something totally crazy while part of our brain stands aside and says, "What is WRONG with me???"
And DG asks me, "How do you know that about me?"
I can only say it's in the blood. I never understood expressions like that but now when it comes to mind, I can literally feel it pumping through my veins. It's what I am, it's what we are. It's what I saw in my precious DG when she was a baby looking back at me with those deep, intense blue eyes. My thought was OMG, she's perfect.. the child of alcholic and addicts and she's perfect. And my next thought was... and she's one of us. Never a doubt. I prayed for her survival. And now here she is.
So just what is "it"? We sober alcoholics often recognize each other out there in the world, with absolutely no direct indication. A word, the turn of a phrase, an attitude, a gesture... and I say "that's one of us". DG grew up with it... mom, grandpa, biological father living in the disease. I grew up with it too - my dad died of alcoholism more than 3 years before I ever took my first drink, yet I did take that first drink.
DramaGoddess has come home. It's in our blood... even if she's not my genetic offspring. I guess it's going to be time to get blown away all over again. I pity the punk that gloms onto her thinking he's going to get himself a little trophy girlfriend. Blown away, is what he's gonna be. I hope someday she meets someone worthy. I know I did, but not until I was 49 years old.
So just what is "it"? We sober alcoholics often recognize each other out there in the world, with absolutely no direct indication. A word, the turn of a phrase, an attitude, a gesture... and I say "that's one of us". DG grew up with it... mom, grandpa, biological father living in the disease. I grew up with it too - my dad died of alcoholism more than 3 years before I ever took my first drink, yet I did take that first drink.
In a word, codependency. Codependents and alcholics are so magnetically attracted to each other it's phenominal. And alcoholics are mostly codependents more and less as most of us have had parents that were alcoholics or have lived with other alcoholics for some significant amount of time. It's familiar and it's attractive. Read some John Bradshaw books for more elaboration.
Wow! my parents were not drinkers, but i had several aunts and uncles, now passed, that were alcoholics, and i loved them very much. i always felt "it" with them... they used alcohol to get them through whatever plagued them and i never knew why until i finally 'got to' AA for relief. maybe i can help others because of this feeling, and it is being a co-dependant. i am a co-dependant first who became an alcoholic. Wow. Thank you Bari and Pete. jj
Certainly alcoholics are codependent, but that's not exactly what I meant. We're much more than codependent. We share a bond, a like-mindedness, that may or may not surface as codependency. I have many friends who are alcoholics, obviously, and I do not have codependent relationships with them. There is just simply an mutual understanding of what we are, how we see things, etc.
My relationship with my daughter and granddaughter in recent years has gone far away from codependency. Our lives have headed different directions - the time we have together is mainly spent enjoying each others' company, we talk AA talk and other stuff but we have our own lives. I've been spared a lot of the details of what DG has been through the past year, and it's largely because her mom knows there's nothing I can do about it anyway.
The other thing about codependency is that I think it gets 100% negative press, especially since John Bradshaw made a career of it. All relationships have some element of codependency. I think some people believe that every person should be an island where only they and God have license, and the closest they can get to someone else is to meet in boats for lunch. I really bought into this right after my divorce - in the mid 1990s, it was a really hot item on the pop-psych circuit and guys like Bradshaw were getting wealthy. IMO it's an impractical and desolate existence, when practiced to the fullest extent. After my divorce I had to re-learn pretty much everything about relationships - and building a healthy relationship with myself had to come first. So I get it. But sometimes I think the over-analytical, I-see-codependency-issues-behind-every-curtain becomes habitual and a barrier to any real intimacy. Like anything else it's a survival and coping skill, but it's not necessarily a way of life all by itself.
