Contemplating co-dependency

(Nimue)

Co-dependency is a term that came out of alcohol recovery groups. It’s not an official diagnosis with a clear definition, but it gets bandied about a lot. As a term it bothers me greatly, and it’s a case in point for examining how we use language, the kinds of stories we tell and how that impacts on us.

The story goes that by trying to help a partner or family member who has issues, the co-dependent person is actually making things worse. The obvious point here is that if you have a loved one with addiction issues,  or any other problems, helping is the obvious choice. The odds are that with little support or experience you’ll be making things up as you go along, and therefore probably not doing an optimal job, but getting professional support takes time. The idea is that the helpful partner becomes an enabler, facilitating the problem behaviour and as dependent on it as the addict/sufferer.

I think that’s a pretty big leap. If someone is an alcoholic, they can die if they don’t get alcohol, and as a non-professional it makes most sense to just try and keep them alive until someone more able to help can get in there. Doing the best you can with no training or resources isn’t something anyone should be given a hard time over. I see the term co-dependency used to tell unhelpful stories and to pathologise care in unhealthy ways.

I’m deeply wary of labelling someone who is genuinely trying to help, as part of the problem. It’s not like support is easy to tap into, resources are scarce. I was on one occasion in a GPs office with a young lady who had an alcohol problem. It had been a lot of work to get her there, and the doctor was dismissive and just told her she ought to drink less – no help or support was offered. I’ve seen friends trying to support offspring with drug addictions, similarly unaided. I don’t think it’s helpful to label or blame people who find themselves in this situation or to judge them for whatever they come up with as a coping mechanism – even if it is less than ideal.

There are other aspects to this, however. People who are intent on being rescuers in unhealthy ways can act to keep others in crisis so that they continue to need rescuing.  It’s not an easy thing to spot either from inside, or outside the situation. Keeping someone vulnerable and in crisis can be a way of controlling them. If a person is persuaded that they can’t cope, can’t function or take care of themselves, that makes them dependent on their abuser. Of course plenty of people with chronic illness and significant disability cannot cope without help. What’s key here is the help, not the person giving it.

As an example, I have issue with my blood pressure dropping suddenly. I would not be safe being out on my own as a consequence. I just need someone with me who knows what to do if I get into trouble – I can cope perfectly well if I have the help I need. That’s a safe and healthy kind of enabling. If it seems that someone cannot possibly do anything without the other person being there, then there are reasons for caution.

Feelings of powerlessness are a big red flag. If the ‘help’ you are getting is not empowering you, then consider that it might not be help at all. If something feels controlling and limiting, trust that feeling. The person who wants to help will do that on your terms. The person who wants to tell you what to do will not be open to your opinion on your own needs.

The hardest question to ask is ‘am I doing this?’ Do I need to feel needed in a way that’s making me act controllingly? Do I think I would be rejected if this person did not need me? Do I want them to need me more than I want them to be well and happy? How would I feel if they got over this and got on with their life and weren’t dependent on me?

It’s fine to want to be needed and valued. That doesn’t make it ok to keep people in situations of need so as to maintain dependency.