Many of know you that I am a therapist and published author, but did you know that I used to be a “fixer?”
I was the fixer of all broke things before I found recovery. I honestly believed that I was born to fix all the problems for all the people in my life. I learned in childhood to be observant, diligent, opinionated, persuasive, aggressive, and judgmental. These are the qualities of me as a fixer and a codependent person. These were all fine tuned skills that I got to test out every morning when I awoke. My codependency is rooted in this type of traumatic survival.
Growing up in a less than nurturing household meant that I needed to be prepared. I had to know, before my family knew, that I was going to have to go into fixer mode. I had to pay attention to the tone, pitch of voice, mood, the weather forecast….all because I was fearful of what that might mean for me. In other words, if my stepfather got up and was still hung over from the night before and it was raining outside(which meant he was going to not go to work), I had to hear him insult my mom and make accusations about what she planned to do that day—besides going to work. He often accused her of cheating—usually when he was drunk.
Looking back, it all sound ridiculous, but it was necessary. If my mom and step-dad got into a verbal altercation before us kids left for school, that meant that I had to hurry up and get ready, get my brother and sister ready, and find us some food---mom would engage in that verbal battle for ten minutes up to a half hour—and we had to eat so I took care of it.
The worst part is, by the time the school bus came I was nervous, had an upset stomach, and was already thinking about what my plan would be to protect myself and my siblings when we came home from school. My step-dad would go out and drink some more during the day and my mom would come home angry that he had not bothered to cook or clean up around the house.
I don’t like being a fixer, but I was born to play one in my life and all my adult relationships. It ends up being quite mind-numbing. I don’t want to have to anticipate what a partner will or won’t do, but sometimes it is necessary.
In recovery, I have learned to keep the “fixing” to my day job as a psychotherapist. Gradually, I was able to stop trying to fix my former partner and as I stopped doing that it became clearer and clearer that our marriage was over. I didn’t have enough strength to hold him up as well as myself. And I imagine that if we asked him, he would say that my trying to fix him led to the demise of the relationship. He would often tell me it wasn’t my job to fix him, but that would go against all my original programming. Good thing I kept focused on my recovery and working the 12-steps of my programs.
Now that I am a single man---who and what do I fix now? I think the answer is simple; I stay focused on me, myself, and I. I don’t have to be anxious about someone’s next move, mood, or behavior. I can pay attention to myself and use the tools of recovery to assist me even if that means using them 24/7. That’s what they are there for.
I am finally responsible for myself. Now, that doesn’t mean I am not open to another relationship. It just means that I intend to show up differently in the next relationship. I may not be able to turn my “fixer” tools off and on like a light switch, but I recognize that they serve a purpose—kind of like a security system. I get a couple of pings when t
hings just don’t seem right. I pay attention and figure out what I need to do for me—not you.
I also really like getting paid for the work I do--helping people fix themselves.
Stay safe, sane, and sober,
D.J.
