Codependency as Addiction

I’m addicted to rescuing people.

Especially addicts who need me, whatever their addiction. It feels noble, sometimes even righteous. Isn’t that how God intended for us to give of ourselves? WWJD, What Would Jesus Do. Good intentions inspired me to loan my brother money for groceries. Or call his boss to explain why he was too sick to show up for work again. “I just don’t want Brad to lose his job. That’s the last thing he needs.”

It felt benevolent to take care of my brother’s responsibilities, as though I were wrapping him in a blanket of love. Especially since, after decades of enabling, Mom had shifted into a tough love response, which left me as his savior.

Saving feels good.

Until I felt manipulated, and I began to question my actions and motives. During those years of riding the addiction roller coaster alongside Brad, I spun my responses to his demands inside my brain like a carnival Tilt-a-Whirl, uncertain which way was due north. I tried to rescue him and got exploited time and again—lied to, stolen from, maneuvered.

I was Mom’s mini-me, serving Brad in a codependent relationship just like Mom. For twenty years I watched her rescue Brad and then I participated in the dance while my feelings toward him teeter-tottered from love to hate and back, until the day he died from a heroin overdose.

I could no longer rescue Brad. But that pattern of fixing resided in my soul and defined my identity in my marriage and my friendships. I wonder now, was that God’s best for me, or was I seeking an unhealthy connection with people instead of seeking Jesus? It took fifteen years of spending time with Him, spending time in therapy and spending time in yoga to finally see the truth.

Don’t get me wrong, I still make choices to be an uninvited fixer. But now each time I observe my automatic “let me help you” response, I peel back another layer of reframing and release my need to fix. It turns out my addiction to helping others—whether it’s planning a friend’s baby shower or developing someone’s website or helping a friend navigate her depression—is more about me and my need to be seen, valued, important.

It turns out I avoided dealing with my own needs and emotions by focusing on the needs of others.

Now I see that tendency in other people as well. As I’ve grown, I can’t unsee it—people with good intentions who are doing God’s work in their loved one’s life instead of allowing Him to become their Savior.

It takes courage to admit you’re addicted to helping others. Like any addict, you need to first admit you have a problem. Then maybe talk to God or attend therapy or journal how you respond to the people who trigger your codependent behaviors, and how you can act differently next time. Practice saying “no,” and let this person manage the fallout from their irresponsible behaviors…. as difficult as that is to imagine. Trust me, it gets easier.

When you’re ready, perhaps you’ll explore new avenues you’d like to travel in your own life. Instead of rescuing your loved one, maybe take time for pickleball or a hike or that acting class you always dreamt about. Pray and consider how God can use you for His purpose in YOUR life once your energy isn’t so focused on another person—a person who is also His beloved—a person that HE has the power to heal.

But don’t be surprised if you get an unwelcome reaction from your loved one struggling with addiction. Your new response will feel uncomfortable to you both, as does all change. Have you ever walked out of a matinee movie into bright sunshine and squinted until your eyes adjusted to the change?

Ask God to help you remain consistent, give it time, and then revel in knowing you broke the cycle for yourself,  and potentially another generation of people pleasers.

In the meantime, let me know if you have any questions, I’d love to help.