All That Is Bitter and Sweet_ A Memoir - Ashley Judd [115]
After revealing all the different types of chemical and process addictions folks may use to medicate, Granny P talked more explicitly about exactly what it is we try to medicate. I am not sure I had heard of codependency before, and I certainly didn’t know what it was. Codependency is a relatively new term in psychology that describes an array of behaviors and choices that are formed as strategies to survive dysfunctional family systems and are a direct result of trauma and abuse. The first cases were identified among spouses and family members of substance abusers who had become enmeshed with the addicts they were caring for and were driving themselves crazy trying to control the addicts’ behavior—make them change, clean up, go to bed, get up, go to work, sign the Christmas cards, whatever. The definition has expanded to include anyone who tries to control the behavior of others (or themselves) as a coping mechanism to medicate loneliness, that hole in the soul left behind in the aftermath of abuse—which does not have to be radical, dramatic, big-time abuse. Codependence can be a hard concept to grasp because it’s so broad, so by looking at its core symptoms is useful. According to Pia Mellody, a nurse and recovering codependent who has written extensively on the subject, codependents have difficulty
experiencing appropriate levels of self-esteem
setting functional boundaries
owning and expressing their own reality
taking care of their adult needs and wants
experiencing their reality moderately
This first, fleeting encounter with the term was sending little shock waves through my system. It was as if I had been living alone in a soundproof room with no way to express myself with my family, and now I was acquiring language for the first time. I would glance at the patients around me, whom I strangely already considered my peers, and they would offer a squeeze of my hand or empathetic glances that seemed to understand far more than our brief knowing of one another would merit.
After a much-needed lunch break, we returned to the group room for Granny P to deliver a classic introductory lecture on the Twelve Steps as a way to restore sanity to our lives. A succinct summary I will never forget is this: In steps one, two, and three, we make peace with the God of our own understanding. In steps four, five, six, and seven, we make peace with ourselves. In steps eight and nine, we make peace with others. In steps ten, eleven, and twelve, we grow in peace.
Yowza. That sounded to me like a pretty good deal.
Granny P told us she was a longtime member of Alcoholics Anonymous. One of the most remarkable things to me about Shades was that every counselor at the center, including Tennie and her daughter, Kim, are recovering addicts themselves who rely on the Twelve Steps fellowships, while also availing themselves of appropriate professional help during the course of their recovery journeys.
And Granny P’s story was stupendous: She took her first drink—a long pull from a hot bottle of Four Roses whiskey found under the seat in her granddad’s truck—at age seven; had four husbands; and engaged in all manner of kooky, painful adventures. Having recently celebrated forty years of continuous sobriety, a journey that early on also included inpatient treatment for codependency and anorexia, she sure seemed to know what she was talking about.
By the end of the day, I was swirling. I continued to study the family week booklet they gave us and tried to fill in the addiction questionnaires that would help