Lisa Ramsey, Living Codependent
I used to write for and manage a blog called Living Codependent. It is still online, but I don’t know if I will continue posting over there. It is a journal-type of blog where I wrote on daily thoughts and activities of one of the worlds most codependent Codependents (me 😁). I have also posted some of my art projects throughout that site.
I am a BIG codependent. I’ve survived childhood incest, sexual abuse, physical abuse. In my earlier marriages, I’ve survived sexual abuse and emotional abuse.
My Husband, Addict
Today, my third and final husband is a recovering alcoholic and addict. The only way I knew how to survive being a wife to an addict is by being extremely codependent. I broke down to bullying and manipulation, and inadvertently supporting my husband’s alcoholic and addiction cycles. I was Living by managing his needs and wants; being acutely aware of his every thought, motivation, and move – his every intention.
Once he first set foot into a treatment center, it took a looong time for me to understand what codependency was. It took another long time to realize what codependency has been for me, to admit that I am a codependent, and to accept it. To live with it, or to leave it for a different type of codependence.
It took a lot of thinking and understanding and failing on my part, and even a second round of addiction treatment for my husband, to see myself as truly a codependent.
My Accidental Detachment
It wasn’t until I picked up a paintbrush for the first time that I felt a connection to myself. (You can see that very first painting in my About the Artist page).
I was very unsure, as this took time away from managing my addict’s life. That was distressing to me, even though his treatment doctors and counselors told me over and over again that I must detach myself from him for both of us to survive.
Painting just grabbed my by the collar once I started, and made me love it instantly. I slowly, unwillingly, tentatively stopped watching him. I was nervous. If I don’t keep an eye on him, both of our lives will be destroyed as a result of my lack of attention.
But I kept on painting. For me. And I also kept fighting myself on leaving him so unmonitored. But I kept painting. And that is when I began to understand what it meant to Detach With Love.
My Transformation
I had begun to detach. To let himself manage himself. To not try to find where he is keeping anything he shouldn’t have. To not watch where he is going, to not count the time he is spending in the bathroom, to not investigate pens for teeth marks, to not scrutinize his pupils and how tiny they are. To not make a judgment on how much he is talking or eating or pooping or leaving the room.
I am not the hawk-eyed spouse I once was. I don’t offer help as much as I used to. I don’t hang on his sleeve, watching where he’s going, wondering if he’s doing the right thing – as much. I’d say about my codependency: if it was 100 out of 100 back then, it is maybe 25 out of 100, now.
I’m ok with that, for now.
And I’m ok having something for me to look forward to, for myself. For me, it took a healthy, artistic distraction to learn what detachment meant. It took me being held by the hand of my paintbrush to lead me away from the unhealthy hovering I was doing over my husband.
And I never knew, until then, how much I love to paint!
Detach? What does it mean to Detach With Love?
Follow this link to a new tab for a helpful and professional article on Detaching With Love, from Psychology Today’s Fran Simone Ph. D.
Thank you for reading.
Lisa
ToCreate.Art.blog 