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.
Codependent relationships may be between romantic partners, parents and their children or grandchildren, siblings and even friends.
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.