“Be so busy watering your own grass you won’t notice if your neighbor’s is greener” is a paraphrase of a quote/meme that I saw last week on social media. At the time I thought “heck yeah!” and shared it. It stuck with me for days, but not in the way you’d think. I continued to mull it over; pick it apart and put it back together. I know, I know. It’s just something I shared on social media.  But for a recovering codependent with anxiety, NOTHING is EVER “just something.” Thus, the constant churning of thoughts and processing. Essentially, what the post was INTENDED to mean was “take care of yourself and stop comparing your life to everyone else’s”.  I get it. It’s just not that easy. Let me just reintroduce myself in case any of you are new here or have forgotten, “Hi, I’m Danielle. Recovering addict, codependent and adult child of an alcoholic.” Yeah, it’s a loaded introduction. But I promise I’ll unpack it for you a little and explain why it’s important to understand, or at the very least, respect, the lens through which each of us is experiencing life.

“Be so busy watering your own grass you won’t notice if your neighbor’s is greener” sounds like a horror show to a codependent. Initially it sounds lovely! Focus on myself and make my life better?! I can do that! BUT. When you are still an active codependent, or are a recovering codependent, it’s not that easy. Merriam Webster defines codependency as “a psychological condition or a relationship in which a person manifesting low self-esteem and a strong desire for approval has an unhealthy attachment to another often controlling or manipulative person (such as a person with an addiction to alcohol or drugs).” In broad strokes this means that a person who is codependent relies on the needs of others-they need to feel needed-they are often the caretaker of others. They seek out relationships with partners or friends who are emotionally, mentally or physically available. A codependent person thrives on being needed while simultaneously battling feelings of unworthiness, frustration, confusion, resentment, anger etc. Hey, I didn’t say it wasn’t complicated.

I first heard the term “codependent” in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting I attended with my Mom back in the 90’s. I was a teenager and had zero clue what it meant. A woman who frequented the meetings always introduced herself as “I’m ____; alcoholic and codependent.” I remember asking my mother, who attempted to explain it to me, but without my frontal lobe being fully developed and my own substance abuse at the time I couldn’t truly understand what it was. Flash forward to 2017. About 20 years AFTER I first heard of this “condition.” After processing SO MANY things with my therapist (see previous posts, I’ve been seeing once since the death of my biological father in 2014), I asked her if I might be Codependent-I think she clapped! I still didn’t fully understand it, but she gave me a book to read: “Codependent No More” by Melanie Beattie. It is no exaggeration to say that it changed my life. So many situations from my life suddenly made sense to me. I had been so busy care taking for everyone in my life, for my entire life, that I had neglected to take care of myself. And I had been unconsciously harboring resentment because of it.

Let me unpack this personal “codependent” bag of mine a little further. Codependency is strongly linked to substance abuse. I grew up in an alcoholic home-my mother actively drinking until I was 7. Her boyfriend during that time was also an alcoholic. I had to walk on eggshells for most of those years. When he wasn’t drinking, he was so nice. When he was drinking… he was an asshole. Sometimes physically violent, but mostly he was just mean and yelled. I remember calling him “Dad” one time as I fetched him from the neighbor’s house for dinner-he reminded me I wasn’t his child and referred to me a “stupid little prick.” One of a laundry list of bad memories that I filed under “why am I not good enough?” I never called another man Dad until met my own when I was 16-and even that was difficult-intellectually I knew he was my father-but we had zero relationship up to that point. It just felt awkward and almost forced.  I couldn’t even bring myself to call my stepfather, David, “Dad” and he was the man who most deserved it.

While my “let me water your grass” coping mechanisms were learned at home, they flourished at school. Someone who is codependent is often involved in other people’s business and they seek to control all environments they are exposed to. I remember being referred to as someone who gossiped and knew everyone’s business as a kid-those people weren’t wrong. I was so accustomed to “knowing the problems” and “fixing” them that I sought to do the same with my peers. During my 8^th grade graduation when a couple of students from my class spoke about where everyone would be in 25 years-it was noted that I would be a reporter of the National Enquirer. I was so embarrassed; I tried not to show it, but it was difficult to hide-my face always turns beet red when I’m embarrassed.  People laughed. It was kind of funny…I guess. Still, no one understood my deep inner drive to control everything around me. My home life had been out of control so much when I was younger that I was desperate to get and maintain control of everything I could. Of course I didn’t understand any of this at the time-trauma therapy is almost magical in that it can really help you understand why you behaved in a certain way or why you processed thoughts in a particular way. I have so much love and empathy for Danielle the young girl. She wanted so badly to fit in. To be liked. To be loved. And she felt so alone and isolated. She was desperate to feel acceptance-and viewed everything about herself with disgust…including her virtue. She couldn’t wait to get rid of it-like it was further proof that she was disgusting. That young girl was trying to fill a massive void in her heart. She tried filling it up by fixing other people’s problem or at the very least focusing on them-then she wouldn’t have to look at her own. If I could talk to that version of Danielle today…. sigh…. maybe I should do the TikTok trend where I’m having a conversation with my younger self, reassuring her that life will be ok? I mean, it has turned out to be pretty amazing!

I carried these skills with me into adulthood, marriage and parenting. Unknowingly and unintentionally of course. I can say that I had to REALLY fight against my instinct to be a “helicopter mom.” Don’t worry, I didn’t fully succeed- I had moments where I was pushing myself into situations “on my child’s behalf” that I didn’t need to. I practiced unhealthy “supporting” habits in my marriage, too. I thought if he is happy I’ll be happy…what can I do to make him happy?! tried everything from making his lunch every day, to supporting his involvement in whatever he was interested in at the time…no matter the impact his involvement had on me, our daughters or our family life in general. He wanted to earn his Master’s Degree- “ok! Do it!” He wanted to play Dungeons and Dragons every week-live, with a group of friends- “ok! Do it!” He wanted to start a band and play at local venues, “ok! Do it!” He wanted to act in local musicals and plays- “ok! Do it!” He wanted to earn his doctorate- “ok! Do it!” Now, I want to explain here that he never asked “permission,” that’s not how we work. My point is that I purposely encouraged every interest he had, no matter how I felt about taking on the extra responsibilities of our family so he could chase his interests and passions. Did he do this for me too? Yes-but I felt guilt. That if I asked for too much he would leave-I was unworthy of his love and support after all. At least that’s the narrative I played in my head. Who was I to want to earn my Master’s Degree? Who was I to do anything outside of my family?! That’s not how things are done-this thought process had little to do with male vs female roles within the family and much more to do with the codependent tale I had been spinning for years. Why water my grass when I could water his and admire it from over here? This lead to repressed anger and resentment that I am still currently working through.

I shake my head at the thoughts I used to have. That young wife and mother had NO idea. No idea who she was. I could roll a 20-sided die and find a different hat to wear or role to play each time-there was just that one tiny side that read “Danielle” and that one baffled me. I knew who I was ONLY in relation to other people and what I could do for them. I had spent so much time watering the grass of everyone else that mine had turned brown, burnt and then died. I was standing in a dry pile of dirt and had no idea where to begin. I couldn’t even fathom that I was a person OUTSIDE of my family until around 2012. I went through what I would refer to as one of the worst (but also best) experiences of my life that year and I found myself questioning everything. My life had been up-ended and I was forced to examine all the different pieces of it. The story of 2012 is something I will share another time…it’s long and grievous.

2012-that is when my healing really began. It was slow and painful, so, so painful. But…in a way it prepared me for another massive blow-the loss of my father in 2014. I had learned so much in those two years that I was fully aware of my inability to process the magnitude of grief on my own again-it was too big. And Dad and I had so much that had been left unsaid, or rather, much that had been left unprocessed by me. Seeking out a therapist immediately after his death has been one of the best gifts I have ever given myself. I think back to how I was back then-in the first few meetings. I explained in no uncertain terms that I was there to handle my grief, that I would not be talking about certain aspects of my childhood and that there were three or four things that I had never shared with another living soul and never would. There was too much shame involved. I clung tightly to those secrets-holding them captive in a glass jar praying that I wouldn’t fall and splay the contents. This is another aspect of codependence-keeping secrets and holding on to self-blame.

Funny story-5 years into treatment I walked into my therapy appointment and announced that I had some things to say-and shared them with my therapist. For the first time ever-getting those things out of my brain and handing them to someone else…to put them in a safer container that the glass jar I had trying for years not to break open. And to guide me through the processing of them one at a time.  I had to prioritize my own mental health and wellness. In order to do that I had to let those things go; I let them out into the world where they no longer held any power over me.

Am I a totally reformed codependent? Nope. Just like I’m not a totally reformed addict. Old behaviors and thoughts creep in sometimes. That “let me water your grass; let me fix your problems” runs deep. I’m a deeply caring, empathic and intuitive person by nature. At times I have to step back and determine if I’m helping in a healthy way and to benefit the other party or if there is something else behind it. I work in a giving profession on purpose; I love to empower others to reach their highest potential for independence. But sometimes the line in the grass is hard to see.

I guess the bottom line is this-water your grass-but also trim it and guide it. Don’t let weeds grow too big-address those problems as they surface. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was a beautiful yard-or life. And when you have a surplus of water, share some with your neighbor. Their grass needs some outside love and affection, too.

Be well my friends.