Codependent Defenses-Part 1

The Gatekeeper


"Some people, when they first get into Recovery, when they first start on a healing path, mistakenly believe that they are supposed to take down their defenses and learn to trust everyone. That is a very dysfunctional belief. It is necessary to take down the dysfunctional defense systems but we have to replace them with defenses that work. We have to have a defense system, we have to be able to protect ourselves. There is still a hostile environment out there full of wounded Adult Children whom it is not safe to trust. . . . . . . .

The process of Recovery teaches us how to take down the walls and protect ourselves in healthy ways - by learning what healthy boundaries are, how to set them, and how to defend them. It teaches us to be discerning in our choices, to ask for what we need, and to be assertive and Loving in meeting our own needs. (Of course many of us have to first get used to the revolutionary idea that it is all right for us to have needs.)"
"Codependence is a disease which involves the being's emotional defense system being dysfunctional to the extent that it breaks our hearts and destroys our ability to Love and be Loved, wounds our souls by denying us access to our Spiritual Self, and scrambles our minds so thoroughly that it causes our minds to become our own worst enemies."

Gatekeeper is a term I first remember encountering over 15 years ago in relationship to archetypes. It is one that I have come to associate in my mind with the ferocious battle our codependency can put up when we are at a place when we are attempting to open our hearts to Loving and being Loved - when we are attempting to open up to allowing good things to happen in our lives instead of sabotaging ourselves.

Mythologically there are both positive and negative usage's of the term Gatekeeper - but in my use, in reference to codependency and fear of intimacy, I think of it as a negative term. In fact, I used to think of the Gatekeeper as some kind of elemental, primal, reptilian presence that emerged from the primordial swamp of the collective unconscious to strike terror into my heart. It was my Gatekeeper that caused me to have the relationship phobia that I described in my May column here. My issues around opening up my heart went way beyond fear - terror of intimacy was the much more accurate term I often used.

That is why it was such a monumental / transformational shift for me earlier this year of 2004, to be able to get past my terror of intimacy and Truly open my heart to myself - and another human being. That of course, doesn't mean my Gatekeeper went away completely - although I easily slipped back into wanting to believe that, because it is easier to see things as black and white and to think that the other person's gatekeeper is the problem because I am past all of that (this is called denial.)

I used to always associate the term - in my negative image of it as being behavior that certain codependents exhibited (not a nice guy like me of course;-) - with the type of defense that caused a person to strike out in a venomous manner. This was related to how my father raged - and the programming that resulted from that verbal abuse. I realized at a certain point in my recovery that I had a pattern in my life of having at least one person in my life who was very critical and shaming. This would usually be some kind of pseudo authority figure - acting teacher, coach, boss/supervisor, older roommate, etc. Having someone in my life that was very critical and shaming was comfortable for me (on an unconscious codependent level) because it was familiar from childhood.

That pattern didn't really manifest itself for me in relationships until I got healthy enough to get past my relationship phobia so that I could get into a relationship. Really! I had to get healthy enough to get into a relationship before the person in the relationship could become that abusive "authority figure." I got into a relationship in the early 90s when I was 7 years sober - and it was the first time I had lived with a woman in a relationship (as opposed to as a roommate) in over 15 years. The only other time I had lived with a woman was the result of a drug and alcohol induced marriage in my early 20s that lasted for a year.

The relationship in the early 90s lasted 2 years and was an invaluable learning experience. It was in that relationship that I learned how to fight. The combination of not doing relationships that lasted any length of time with my patterns in regard to relationships had resulted in me not ever really having had the experience of arguing and fighting with a partner in a relationship.

As I mentioned in the May column: "The extremes I learned in childhood were completely unavailable (my father) and completely enmeshed (my mother.)" If I was interacting with a woman who was somewhat available my fear of enmeshment would come up and I would run away. The only kind of women that I could get involved with had to be emotionally unavailable enough that I would feel deprived and abused - because that was what my codependency was comfortable with. The deprivation would cause me to passive aggressively (because I was programmed in childhood to manipulate since it was not okay to communicate directly and honestly and have boundaries or needs) push to get my needs met, which would result in the woman becoming critical and shaming as some point. That is when I really knew I was "in love" with her because she was treating me in the way I felt I deserved to be treated.

This is really sick stuff, these codependent relationship patterns. I realized as I was writing this, that the relationships where I was "in love" with an unavailable woman were relationships that I ran away from in a passive sense. What I mean by that is, I would set it up so they rejected / threw me away - self fulfilling prophecy - so I wouldn't have the responsibility of ending the relationship. Pretty fool proof way of staying out of relationships.

The toxic shame at the core of my codependency caused me to have major issues about receiving. No matter how much consciously I wanted positive validation and love from other people, I could not accept it when I got it because deep down inside I didn't feel I deserved it - and it did not feel comfortable or familiar. In one the Update Newsletter for my web site I described this in a way I like, as part of a discussion about learning to be open to positive validation and love from others.

"My resistance to opening up to receive Love would cause me to minimize positive feedback by telling myself that the other person wanted something from me, or was just being kind, or whatever. I spent several years in recovery practicing saying just plain "Thank You." Instead of minimizing (oh it was nothing), joking it away, turning it back on them (oh you are really the one who ___), or dismissing it because I suspected the other persons motives or mental health. The feeling deep within was that if someone was loving and positive towards me, it was either a sinister plot or there must be something wrong with them." - Joy2MeU Update October 2002

In my family of origin, I hated how my father treated us - "like dirt" was the phrase that used to come to mind. He was the perpetrator and my mother was the self sacrificing martyr victim. I did not want to be anything like my father so I ended up becoming like my mother - being a victim martyr with no boundaries because of my fear of confrontation and abandonment.

In the relationship in the early 90s, I realized that my wounding caused me to feel like a perpetrator if I set a boundary in an intimate relationship - the very thing I promised myself I would never do, be like my father. In that relationship I learned how to fight. How to stand up for myself and know that a fight didn't mean the end of the relationship. I had to work at it - telling my inner children that it was okay to say no and set boundaries, that it was okay to be angry and express it. It did take a lot of work to overcome that programming. I sometimes liken the experience to someone who has spoken in a real quiet voice all their life - when they start speaking in a normal voice it feels to them like they are yelling. Someone who has been a people pleaser to avoid confrontation in intimate relationships like I was, will feel like they are being abusive when they start standing up for themselves and owning their anger.

In the relationship in the early 90s, the person I was involved with was wounded in such a way that she had a gatekeeper that was vicious and mean. She didn't observe "fair fighting" rules. One of those rules is that you never say the really mean, cruel, soul wounding types of things that cannot be taken back. The really vicious attacks on the other persons being or body or masculinity /femininity or whatever. She would lash out viciously when she felt scared and cornered.

I was able to hang in there and learn to fight with her, without saying those kinds of things back to her. Something I was really grateful for - both that I didn't get abusive in that way, and that I learned that it was okay to get angry and fight. It was very important in my recovery to realize that emotional intimacy includes anger. That the message that I learned from my mother - that it was not okay to be angry at someone I love - was a false message. Avoiding conflict denies intimacy - we cannot be emotionally intimate with someone we can't be angry at. Conflict is an inherent part of relationships - and working through issues is how intimacy grows. Conflict is part of the fertilizer that is necessary for the growth of emotional intimacy. A relationship with no conflict is an emotionally dishonest relationship - and the other extreme of the codependent spectrum from relationships that have constant conflict. Both are unhealthy.

Although I had not gotten involved in any relationships that had lasted any length of time since that two year relationship, the women who I had romantic experiences with for brief periods of time since then all had a gatekeeper that could be mean and vicious. That was one of the wonderful things about the relationship experience that I had this year - that actually started in December of 2003.

The woman I was involved with this year was a quantum leap forward in terms of my patterns. She was not mean and abusive. When her gatekeeper kicked in she could be cold and distant - and sometimes would behave in ways that felt kind of cruel or mean, but she was not mean and vicious in the things she said - even in the times when her pent up rage was triggered. It was actually great progress that she was able to access that rage - and our relationship was the first time she had ever had someone who was safe enough to really be able to express her anger to. She has been a people pleaser in her life, and part of the ironic perfection of our relationship is that the times when I would react out of some codependent insanity actually helped her to learn to own her anger and set boundaries. Her patterns were similar to mine in that she was either people pleasing and being deprived and abused or running away - so the fact that she hung in there with me so long and was willing to confront issues and work through them was great. I believe that the reason she hung in there for as long as she did was because of the powerful level of soul connection between us - a connection that her Gatekeeper puts in a great deal of energy trying to deny. She has run away now - and may never come back, which is very sad to me. But I am still incredibly grateful for all that I have learned from what has been the most powerful and authentic emotionally intimate relationship I have ever had the privilege of experiencing with anyone. If she doesn't come back, the lessons I have learned in the relationship will make it possible for me to be much more present and Loving in my next relationship.


This is part 1 of the article by Robert Burney. Part 2 is coming soon.

[Gabe]

Very good stuff Doug, thanks.
Looking forward to Part Two.

[Twoman]

Thanks so much for sharing