Codependency is vice in its most elusive and insidious form. At first blush, it is inconceivable that helping others and keeping them close to you can be unhealthy. Denying this and rationalizing against it is extremely easy to do. Addiction is being charmed by our own desires.

All arguments for sustaining codependent behavior only need to promote the desire to be good, safe, and serve others, and they will generally be accepted.

Codependency cloaks itself within everything we were ever told about being a good person, serving God, or changing the world. It hides behind the romantic idea that self-sacrifice is healthy, meaningful, and necessary.

Yet certain unique impulses remain beyond your control. An intolerable emotion creeps up on you, or descends from the ceiling, or explodes inside your guts, or a great chasm to hell opens up in your chest, and you are possessed by the uncontrollable impulse to soothe yourself.

Addictive behavior is any repeated action that removes you mentally from the here-and-now. It does not have to be conscious. It is the denial of an intolerable reality, a complaint, a protest, a rebellion against the life you were given.

Not all codependency is addictive, since some people find their tendencies don’t activate until they are in a new romantic relationship, or on special occasions requiring the presence of a certain parent or family member. But once that pain is opened up, the codependent’s trauma response often presents as desperate, compulsive self-soothing behavior that requires confirmation from another person.

For a promiscuous codependent, the drug of choice is physical contact. The rush of oxytocin from being touched, the social and psychological validation of orgasm, the intoxication of suspense, promises, physical arousal, fantasy, and hope all do a marvelous job of patching that core traumatic wound.

The altruistic codependent may join the military, donate large sums of money, or dedicate every spare moment to volunteering. The religious codependent might pray, attend extra services, or lock themselves in confession.

Romantic codependents may have this worst of all. The high that accompanies believing that you have just found the love of your life is pure mania. This high is the most addictive experience one can have, the absence of which can leave you physically and emotionally crippled.

The meaning of life was lying to you… but maybe it won’t next time! Maybe you can recapture the first buzz again and spend your whole life chasing the same, marvelous dragon.

When a calm, motivated, successful friend calls to celebrate a new romantic interest with a new lilt of joy in his voice, suddenly free of all complaints, you can rest assured they are using again. When a new romantic interest turns your night into day, then you are using again, too.

Confirmation of your desirability can be an intoxicating experience of power. From insecurity to supersecurity in an instant, all because someone you have been fawning over likes you back. The problem is that the ace you hold is the love-object, the new partner, the one-night stand, and you are dependent on it for that high of confirmation.

You will to use them for every turbulent moment in life, and if they ever left, or had any independence at all, you would be vulnerable and back to drawing cards again, searching for another love interest because the one you are committed to isn’t scratching your itch anymore.

Chasing a love interest to give you comfort from loneliness is not an act of compassion. You are using them, intentionally or not, and it will not result in lasting love. It is an addiction that uses people as a splint to support your emotional fractures.

Complaints are lies we tell ourselves to be convinced of unfairness or injustice, to formally victimize ourselves, and justify whatever we do to feel better about it.

Addicted codependents who are unable to secure human contact, or are recovering from a rupture, are very likely to end up engaged in substance abuse. Addictive behavior—smoking, drinking, shooting up, swallowing that pill, hitting the casino—is seen as a kindness you extend to yourself, an act of grand and all-encompassing self-compassion. This is, of course, a lie, one that you repeat every time you decide to abuse yourself.

If you want to break free from this lie, then admit reality. Take a bitter swallow of honesty. You use people like a smoker uses cigarettes. You can both be fiercely loyal to a particular brand, but you are enslaved by a transaction. Every time the urge comes calling, you answer without fail.

You do not descend upon people like a hawk, but rather hand yourself over to them, mind, body, and soul, and demand that they reciprocate and keep you safe. If they are your child, you remind yourself about putting everything into raising them, and expect, when they are adults, they will answer enthusiastically every time you call, talk as long as you want, and have the perfect things to say.

The usury is subtle, and almost always unconscious in soft codependents. Rather than beat yourself up about “using” someone, approach it as a therapist would an addiction. Ask yourself: What does using protect me from? What feeling? What pain, memory, or trauma? Detail the names, ages, and activities of everyone involved in that pain. What does using do for me?

When people are unavailable, what do you use instead? What happens when you get stood up, rejected, stonewalled, or your partner simply isn’t available when you “need” them?

Do you increase your smoking? Drinking? Pornography? Affairs? Visits to the red-lettered massage parlor? Do you dive into work hoping never to have another day off? Do you find yourself hitting your dog, or snapping at the grocery store clerk?

While addiction is mostly caused by negative psychosocial experiences, genetics also play a part. If your parent experienced trauma, this can be passed down to you via epigenetics, which means you not only inherit your parents’ biology, but the effect of their traumatic experiences, like addiction susceptibility. There isn’t much you can do to change your genetic code, at least not yet, but you can always influence your psychosocial experiences.

Our emotional world is made up of associations. When we, for example, smoke cigarettes at the office, certain restaurants, and with certain friends, these things will become our kryptonite when we try to quit. Every time we step into work, eat out, or see those friends, the need for firm cotton between our lips and hot smoke in our lungs will be overpowering.

If you want to break an addiction, one of the most powerful things you can do is leave town. You are no longer exposed to any of your normal triggers, and the part of your brain that is turned off in familiar spaces becomes active again.

You immediately start gathering information for future pattern recognition, implementing new patterns based on your new set of needs. This is exactly why rehab centers separate relapsed addicts from the outside world, provide them with a full schedule of self-care activities, and highly control who contacts them.

Rehab will expose you to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy because it works. They will also have you attend group therapy, where you will get the therapeutic benefit in the company of others. You will be given medication to mitigate anxiety and, in the case of alcohol withdrawal, keep you from having a possibly fatal seizure. You will also have several sessions with a therapist who will provide a personalized approach to what you are going through.

If you can separate yourself from a toxic environment, find a healthy group, get appropriate medication from a prescribing physician, and engage in therapy, you will be well on your way to sobering up.

————Reality Check————

Virtue does not mean the absence of vice. Quite the contrary. Life will look very much the same, only when we indulge in vice we will do so with eyes wide open.

Vice does not exist to conquer us. It exists as a tool to help us conquer ourselves. There is little question that romantic love is the most accepted modern vice, but that does not mean we can’t examine it closely. It requires an honest look at our virtues and seeing how our love-life decisions compare to those ideals.

Most people come by their addictions honestly. Addiction is just as much a reaction to trauma as post-traumatic stress, personality disorders, anxiety, and depression. People can be addicted to drugs, morals, alcohol, people, and people-pleasing the same way they can be addicted to rage and pain.

Yet nobody ever sat down and decided to become an addict, hand themselves over to a substance or ideology, and throw their freedom away. There is no limit to the depth of pain brought on by life’s disappointments, and complaints, protests, and using things and people to make us feel better, is natural.

Hippocrates, the father of Western medicine, said, “The only difference between a medicine and a drug is amount and intent.” People used to drink alcohol for anesthetic purposes, and people still use opium for pain management, albeit in a pill form provided by their doctor.

If you are in an honest relationship with your parent, partner, friends, and children, and they want to be your support during hard times, then use them. They want you to. They would be insulted if you didn’t.

But if your hard time has gone on for decades, or long enough to define your personality, it’s time for a hard look at who you use, why you use them, how often, and for how long.