On two rare occasions, I have been able to read the personal journals of people close to me. (With permission of course.) I was impressed with the meta level thinking and deep analysis of life that they wrote of. I looked back on my own journal after both instances, and felt... shallow. The only thing I really wrote about, with no one looking, was boys.
When I do a recap of my life, it's characterized by phases of my education (high school, under grad, grad school) but more so by relationships. (When I was dating so and so.) I'm sure I could find other ways to file away information, but when I'm being honest, it's about who I was dating. Taking the journal and the life chapter analysis into consideration, I have to think, something is wrong here.
Why would an educated woman be so boy crazy? After some traumatic events at the hand of a long distance relationship I actually want to keep, I took a good hard look inside my motives. I can't be alone. A sneaking thought has been with me ever since a class back in undergrad (aka Jeremy Time). We were studying the Self, and we had to read a book about Co-Dependents Anonymous (CoDA). We used them as a case study for revealing the self, but we also had to learn about the actual group. We looked at the common patterns for Codependents, and I remember them hitting a little too close to home. As a 21 year old, I buried it. I didn't want to join a 12 step program. I didn't want to admit there could be anything wrong with me at all.
I'm not 21 anymore. Maybe it doesn't end up being as bad as I thought, maybe it's just a stepping stone into a more conscious life. Or maybe, with the help of this group, I admit that I have felt for a long time that I have a problem with being codependent on my partners. I've yearned for affection and attention at an unhealthy level. I've manipulated and lied in so many relationships, and I always thought that the right guy would fix that. If it happens in all my relationships, then the common denominator is me.
I'm sure there will be more on this to come, I'm at the beginning. As cliche as it is, I'm at step one. I'm admitting I have a problem.
