Did he know I was giving people numbers of doctors and therapists I myself wasn't going to? In romantic relationships, I was drawn to real fixer-uppers. I even found myself in sexual situations I had no interest in.
And helping people through breakups while I couldn't make time for myself to floss? I mean, if you've Googled me, you probably know what I'm talking about. Another one of my trusty mental-health professionals says that if I walk into a room of people, the broken people in attendance will "glow" to me. I've slept with people because "they drove all this way." My vocabulary was littered with obligatory phrases like "I have to" and "I'll just swing by for an hour." I routinely sabotaged relationships with my seeming altruism.
I couldn't stop buying people overpriced candles, yet I had not paid my rent.
How did he know that I was obsessed with solving other people's problems while my own life was a scalding-hot mess?
What if you think it's boring, or, God forbid, not as good as the other letters on Lenny? I thought it meant you were in a bad relationship with someone else, when it really means you're in a bad relationship with yourself.
It's only recently that I've learned to coach myself through this self-abuse: "Whit, you'll survive even if some random stranger thinks this sucks." That coaching of my inner monologue is a daily course correction I do because I have a "disease" called codependence. When my therapist first suggested that I was codependent, I was confounded because I wasn't dating anyone.
I could enter a party and within five minutes be in an all-consuming conversation with a thrice-divorced narcissist managing various addictions. Let's just say I've purchased more than one custom gift with a boyfriend's favorite NFL team's logo on it from Etsy. In recovery, I learned that the difference between codependence and being nice is motives.
After a breakup, my take was always "I loved him too much." But it was very hard to convince me that I wasn't just, like, an amazing person. Essentially, if I drive you to the airport because you can't afford a taxi and I expect nothing in return, that's benevolent.
That's how misused the term is, much like "genius," "hilarious," and "starving." A simple definition is that codependents can't tolerate the discomfort of others. This season promises lots of changes for the “No Body Shame” spokesperson as Whitney not only moves out of parents Babs and Glenn’s house, but also finds love with a hunky bearded beau!No, the bearded beau isn’t bestie Buddy Bell, but another hairy-faced hottie with an even bigger, fatter, fabulouser beard than Buddy’s!Danny Burton is a 30-ish carefree single guy who has watched most of his friends move on to serious relationships.When his last remaining friend Shannon moves out to get married, Danny ...