Normal, ordinary, natural misery

A great many people read through the lists of codependent patterns and exclaim, "Isn't everyone codependent then? Everyone does all of these things!"

This is an interesting defense strategy. In some ways, it's similar to how I perceived the behavior of others when I was a drinker. "What? I don't have a problem! All of my friends drink exactly like I do!"

But in other ways, it is perhaps true. Whatever truth it contains is a reflection of how shabby our "normal" is. Of how little we value the skills of humane relating and honest communication. 

Anyway, what do I know about "everyone"? Nothing at all. I know about my experience and I know in a rough way what causes my misery and I now know that there are some tools that stand a chance of alleviating most of it. 

This is where step 2 kicks in. 

Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore us to sanity.

Putting aside any questions about exactly what the hell that power is, it is clear to me that I am going to need a connection with something reliable that is "greater than myself" to get a foothold on sanity. In fact, one of the facts of codependency is the habit of making *other people* (in particular that one special hostage) one's "higher power." It follows that, if I am going to begin to experience some freedom from codependence, I am going to have to let go of other people as a hoped for anodyne to my insanity. 

I was thinking last night about my high tolerance for discomfort. But it occurred to me that I have a monumental tolerance only for *familiar* discomfort. Unfamiliar discomfort— ironically, discomfort out of my comfort zone— I avoid with extreme efforts. 

For example: the familiar misery of loneliness as a result of donning so much armor that no one gets to know me. The familiar misery of holding on tight in order to be certain I am loved. The familiar misery of accepting shitty situations as a reflection of not being worth better situations. 

But the unfamiliar misery of trust? The unfamiliar misery of letting go? The unfamiliar misery of trying something new in order to have a new experience? I have close to zero tolerance for these things, in my life history. I am getting much better at venturing into the unfamiliar though, especially as the familiar feels more and more immolating and excoriating and soul killing. 

In particular at this time, the unfamiliar misery of the discomfort caused by non-action. I am so used to taking action as a refuge from feelings of helplessness, precariousness and insecurity, that for me to simply not do anything and sit with reality is very, very uncomfortable. I am learning however that it is also incredibly powerful. In a larger sense of meta-action and right action, non-action is, like silence, deeply healing. But man, it makes my skin crawl.