Learning to let go
Codependency. Doesn't have positive connotations right? But that's a massive part of chronic illness. Well, at least for me.
Being ill from such a young age, (merely 11 years old), meant that from the start of my hospital visits my parents had accompanied me. Sorted out any medication that I had needed, transport to and from most places, out of guilt and (I hate to say it) but probably pity. They had arranged all my doctors and hospital appointments and had always been there to pick me up when I was down. They were always there and did their best to make sure that I'd never miss out. Dad worked so hard to ensure that mum could dedicate time to look after and be there for me. This is possibly why I'm so close to my mum, and why, looking back I probably depended on her too much. A potentially unhealthy attachment was forming.
Being constantly fatigued and unwell meant that, in turn I missed out. Whilst most others my age were out socialising and making friends I was at home being cared for by my parents and older relatives, cementing that codependent bond which years later I would come to realise isn't what was best for either party.
It wasn't just my parents who I relied on. Being under constant supervision, frequent hospital visits became routine, I was given a misconstrued version of reality. Perhaps a deluded perception that I'd always be cared for. I was a responsible child, aware of how my actions affected others. Perhaps I should have been more focused on being responsible for myself instead of relying on others to pick up the pieces and sort my life out for me.
The last thing I want is to come across ungrateful. If my parents hadn't been there for me at my beck and call then who knows what state I'd be in right now. I can tell you one thing, I would not be sitting on a double bed at my university accommodation typing away; that's for sure.
Regularly being asked if I was okay became ordinary. I would actually be taken aback if someone didn't ask if I, Tallulah Rose Clark, was okay! Whenever I remarked that I was occupied with a hospital appointment heads would turn. Suddenly all this attention was on me, people were worrying about me! I craved this attention that I received whenever I announced that I had yet another hospital visit because I had spent the majority of my life receiving this form of sympathetic attention. As a result I was mislead into believing that this made me special. In some weird, narcissistic way I looked forward to hospital visits, because it was all about me.
As years went by and I grew up this codependency switched. It didn't stop but was offloaded onto other people. I relied heavily on my friends to make plans, figure out where we were going, what time and where we would eat. I relied on them to cheer me up and lift my spirits. I'm not saying I wasn't there for them, I was. But I always wanted someone there, I needed someone who I could fall back on, someone to protect me.
In many ways, this codependent need to be surrounded by people that I love and trust still remains. It's been cemented in me, over the years it has been ingrained into my DNA and has become part of me. But as I have got older I have learnt (the hard way) that friendship and any other kind of relationship is a two way street. People won't be there for you if you don't return the favour.
Nowadays the person that I rely on most is my sister. But I'm not just relying on her for sympathy or protection. I don't just want her there to look after me. I want her there because she's my biggest source of laughter, the one I can have a moan and bitch with. We share our ups and downs and support one another. It's the most enriching relationship I've ever had.
Since starting uni, I've learnt a lot about myself. I've had a go at doing things for myself, carrying out tasks which I previously would have got someone else to do for me. But I haven't just grown practically but emotionally too. Living at home meant that I didn't really learn how to control and deal with my emotions, my parents were my rock. I would always turn to them to express my emotions. Leaving me feeling refreshed and much better but not in the long run.
I'm still learning to cope on my own and be more self-dependent. Hey, maybe I'll never be fully self-sufficient but I'm definitely trying. I'm without doubt becoming more independent and learning to let go.
Being ill from such a young age, (merely 11 years old), meant that from the start of my hospital visits my parents had accompanied me. Sorted out any medication that I had needed, transport to and from most places, out of guilt and (I hate to say it) but probably pity. They had arranged all my doctors and hospital appointments and had always been there to pick me up when I was down. They were always there and did their best to make sure that I'd never miss out. Dad worked so hard to ensure that mum could dedicate time to look after and be there for me. This is possibly why I'm so close to my mum, and why, looking back I probably depended on her too much. A potentially unhealthy attachment was forming.
Being constantly fatigued and unwell meant that, in turn I missed out. Whilst most others my age were out socialising and making friends I was at home being cared for by my parents and older relatives, cementing that codependent bond which years later I would come to realise isn't what was best for either party.
It wasn't just my parents who I relied on. Being under constant supervision, frequent hospital visits became routine, I was given a misconstrued version of reality. Perhaps a deluded perception that I'd always be cared for. I was a responsible child, aware of how my actions affected others. Perhaps I should have been more focused on being responsible for myself instead of relying on others to pick up the pieces and sort my life out for me.
The last thing I want is to come across ungrateful. If my parents hadn't been there for me at my beck and call then who knows what state I'd be in right now. I can tell you one thing, I would not be sitting on a double bed at my university accommodation typing away; that's for sure.
Regularly being asked if I was okay became ordinary. I would actually be taken aback if someone didn't ask if I, Tallulah Rose Clark, was okay! Whenever I remarked that I was occupied with a hospital appointment heads would turn. Suddenly all this attention was on me, people were worrying about me! I craved this attention that I received whenever I announced that I had yet another hospital visit because I had spent the majority of my life receiving this form of sympathetic attention. As a result I was mislead into believing that this made me special. In some weird, narcissistic way I looked forward to hospital visits, because it was all about me.
As years went by and I grew up this codependency switched. It didn't stop but was offloaded onto other people. I relied heavily on my friends to make plans, figure out where we were going, what time and where we would eat. I relied on them to cheer me up and lift my spirits. I'm not saying I wasn't there for them, I was. But I always wanted someone there, I needed someone who I could fall back on, someone to protect me.
In many ways, this codependent need to be surrounded by people that I love and trust still remains. It's been cemented in me, over the years it has been ingrained into my DNA and has become part of me. But as I have got older I have learnt (the hard way) that friendship and any other kind of relationship is a two way street. People won't be there for you if you don't return the favour.
Nowadays the person that I rely on most is my sister. But I'm not just relying on her for sympathy or protection. I don't just want her there to look after me. I want her there because she's my biggest source of laughter, the one I can have a moan and bitch with. We share our ups and downs and support one another. It's the most enriching relationship I've ever had.
Since starting uni, I've learnt a lot about myself. I've had a go at doing things for myself, carrying out tasks which I previously would have got someone else to do for me. But I haven't just grown practically but emotionally too. Living at home meant that I didn't really learn how to control and deal with my emotions, my parents were my rock. I would always turn to them to express my emotions. Leaving me feeling refreshed and much better but not in the long run.
I'm still learning to cope on my own and be more self-dependent. Hey, maybe I'll never be fully self-sufficient but I'm definitely trying. I'm without doubt becoming more independent and learning to let go.
Your story touched me. It sounds like a lot of soul growth has already happened for someone so young!
ReplyDeleteThankyou!xx
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