I Went to My First Codependents Anonymous Meeting Last Night

And got some wisdom, strength, and hope from codependents just like me

It’s three am, and I’m getting dressed after a quick roll in the hay with my current lover.

“Hey, can I borrow some money? I’m broke.”

After hearing some sad stories about a sister with five kids under the age of seven, I open my wallet as eagerly as I just spread my legs.

With no idea if he’s telling the truth or if the money will be drunk up the next time he goes clubbing. This was a story I heard a lot and fell for over and over.

Which doesn’t surprise me having grown up in a dysfunctional alcoholic home where boundaries were non-existent.

Back in my heyday of acting out in my sex and love addiction, I gave money freely to various lovers. When we snuck out and spent the night in a motel on San Francisco’s Clement Street, I paid the bill. And gave them money for groceries before slinking home in the wee hours of the morning, hoping my husband wouldn’t notice.

For the record, he noticed.

Meanwhile, my partners were young, able-bodied men who worked menial jobs when they worked. Being recent immigrants, getting work they wanted to do wasn’t always easy. But they were strong and capable.

So, was I enabling them with my generosity?

Thankfully, I got into recovery with Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous and stopped acting out sexually and enabling financially.

But now that issue has arisen again.

This time with my roommate.

Who is a friend and colleague. A friend I assisted when she injured her back and needed rides to appointments, help around the house, and lots of encouragement. The Occupational Therapy Aide in me popped out and got to work—something I enjoyed doing.

Now, her needs are mainly financial.

While the blessing is that I’m in good shape to help out, my question is, am I enabling her? When I pay part of her rent, am I keeping her from finding any city or county resources she qualifies for? Or getting emotional help and support?

She did apply for one program.

They turned her down because her income was over their $1600 cut-off. Her modest pension and social security are not nearly enough, considering we live in the San Francisco Bay Area, where rents are high.

She told me doesn’t believe she wouldn’t qualify for any other program either. So she hasn’t applied.

Instead, she hits me up.

And I give her the requested funds for rent and other bills. The last thing I want is for a rent check to bounce. And risk being bounced out of our spacious, rent-controlled apartment.

I’ve been future-tripping about where this might lead for both of us. My stress level is rising. Even my chiropractor noticed. And I’ve been taking a lot more Rescue Remedy than usual.

When I finally noticed how much unproductive obsessing I was doing, I wondered if I was maybe being a tiny bit codependent.

So, I went to my first CoDA meeting last night.

CoDA stands for Codependents Anonymous. It’s a lot like Al-Anon but with more focus on relationships and less on booze.

This twelve-step program teaches us to take our focus off the person or persons we’re obsessing about and put it back on ourselves. With help from our Higher Power as needed.

What is codependency?

Psychology Today defines it like this:

“Codependency is a dysfunctional relationship dynamic where one person assumes the role of “the giver,” sacrificing their own needs and well-being for the sake of the other, “the taker.” The bond in question doesn’t have to be romantic; it can occur just as easily between parent and child, friends, and family members.

“The term “codependency” first appeared in substance abuse circles to describe a lopsided relationship that has been consumed and controlled by one person’s addiction. It grew in popularity and became shorthand for any enabling relationship. Codependency is not a clinical diagnosis or a personality disorder and has sparked much debate and controversy among psychology experts.”

That fits our pattern.

I’m obviously the giver.

She’s the taker. And unapologetically so.

At least outwardly.

Inwardly, I imagine she feels horrible. And scared. And helpless.

In the meantime, I went to the meeting.

On Zoom.

CoDA is a twelve-step program with a specific meeting format. After the opening prayer, we read the twelve steps and twelve traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous adapted for CoDA. And several readings about the disease of codependence and the characteristics of codependents.

And it is considered a disease. Of the soul. Characterized by low self-esteem and a tendency to put others’ needs before our own and deny our own feelings.

At the meeting, I heard a lot about anger. Some people spoke from their anger. Others from their tears and fears of losing relationships if they express their true feelings.

Hearing this got me asking myself, what am I feeling?

It was as if a window opened, and new light flooded in!

Oh, do I want to vent. To her. As in: Do expect me to just keep writing check after check with barely a thank you and no sense of responsibility? I don’t remember signing up for this!

As soon as I get in touch with my anger, I shut it down.

Then scold myself for being angry: Marilyn, that’s so not fair! Here’s someone who’s trying to make it on a meager pension, like many older people. Have some compassion. And be grateful you’re in a position to help.

Yet, in the meeting, I heard how important it is to acknowledge all our feelings and use them to set healthy boundaries. Boundaries? That word might as well be from a foreign language, as far as I’m concerned.

I wasn’t going to speak at the meeting. But after that aha, I realized I was in a safe place to share my feelings. All of them. The yin and the yang. So I did.

Once I did, a wave of acceptance swept through me.

Good old, non-judgemental acceptance. This is a big issue for those of us who keep trying to change other people. Or pray they will change themselves to suit us.

We didn’t read it at the meeting, but afterward, I looked up the passage on acceptance from page 449 of the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. It reads:

“Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation-some fact of my life-unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.”

Acceptance is the key to my peace of mind tonight and every night. It’s also the key to change. And it reminds me of Who’s in charge and that it certainly isn’t me.

Before the meeting ended, we took turns reading slogans and affirmations. These, in particular, spoke to me:

~ I am enough, and I have enough. ~ I am not alone. I am one with God and the Universe. ~ I forgive myself for letting others hurt me. ~ I forgive myself for hurting myself and others. ~ Just for today, I will accept my own and others’ boundaries.

Clarity, peace, and acceptance wash over me as I read them, reminding me I don’t have to have all the answers instantly. Nor can I. But I can turn my worries over to God, who, after all, is a whole lot better equipped to handle them than I.

We closed the meeting with the serenity prayer, and since I need to hear it again, I’ll include it here. Feel free to join in:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Thanks to Zoom, our voices weren’t in sync. But our hearts were.

Saying, Keep coming back, it works, gave me hope. And a vision of healing for both of us. Yes, I’m powerless over my roommate, but neither of us is helpless.

I intend to get a sponsor so I can learn where my boundaries start and stop and how to set them. And mutually empowering ways to support my friend in getting the help she needs — if indeed that is mine to do.

But first, I commit to learning more about this cunning, baffling disease so I can heal from the inside out.

If any of you have experiences with codependency or setting boundaries, I’d love to hear about them. Please reply in the comments. It’s good to know I’m not in this alone. Thanks in advance, and stay tuned.

Marilyn Flower’s a sacred fool who writes every day — fiction, poetry, and blogs — inspired by a process called SoulCollage®. She’s the author of Creative Blogging and Bucket Listers: Get Your Brave On. Follow her Sacred Foolishness or SoulCollage® for Writers, and Stay in touch!