Every other Friday morning, I attend an on-campus Bible study at work.  This past week, Pastor Bob asked the group to raise our hands if we were guilty of trying to be in control of our life situations.  Not only did my hand shoot up, but my mind immediately went to this essay and the “holes in my game.”  My desire for control in all things is the number-one character flaw that I possess.

It is not always a negative thing to have to be in control of situations.  I am often seen as the go-to person both at work and in my personal life because I follow through with things, keep my word, and complete tasks on time and with innate detail.  Because of my control, my children eat the meals I choose, thereby ensuring they stay healthy.  I have an issue with cleanliness, so my house and my family are normally well put-together and fresh-smelling – again, all things that circle back to me being in control of things.  In short, if I do it myself, I know it will be done correctly.  The downside to insistence on control is what happens when a situation arises in which I cannot have control.  I loathe unpredicted snow days, last-minute birthday parties for friends, and most of all, sitting in traffic.  I don’t need anyone to point it out to me; my need for control is a family characteristic.  To quote the rapper Psy, “I got it from my daddy.”

The best tool that I have to manage my control issues is through my faith and prayer.  When we try to control things on our own, we ultimately fail.  Most desire for control is driven by our fear:  Fear of not being good enough, fear of losing out, fear of failure.  There is a song by Christian pop artist Zach Williams entitled “Fear is a Liar.”  Over the past year or so, whenever I feel out of control in a situation, I recite that line as a mantra, over and over in my head – sometimes even out loud!  I give control of every situation over to God, remembering that fear will lie to me every time.  I have not had a single instance to date where relinquishing control to God has been anything but fruitful and beneficial.  That’s not to say that I enjoy giving up control, though; it just means I have the most powerful tool possible at my disposal.

The second hole in my game is my willingness to take care of others.  There are those who might term this behavior as codependency, although I heartily disagree.  As determined by the American Psychiatric Association in the DSM-5, there is one characteristic with eight features in order to be diagnosed as codependent, “An excessive and pervasive need to be taken care of, submissive, clinging, needy behavior due to fear of abandonment. This may be expressed by:

1. Difficulty making routine decisions without input, reassurance, and advice from others.
2. Requires others to assume responsibilities which they should be attending to.
3. Fear of disagreeing with others and risking disapproval.
4. Difficulty starting projects without support from others.
5. Excessive need to obtain nurturance and support from others, even allowing other to impose themselves rather than risk rejection or disapproval.
6. Feels vulnerable and helpless when alone.
7. Desperately seeks another relationship when one ends.
8. Unrealistic preoccupation with being left alone and unable to care for themselves.” (American Psychiatric Association, 2013).

You can read more about codependency here: https://www.theravive.com/therapedia/dependent-personality-disorder-dsm–5-301.6-(f60.7)

I personally feel as though the label “codependent” can be overused and misused as blanket terminology to describe anyone who slightly demonstrates even one of the personality manifestations above.  My willingness to step up to the plate and take care of others is easy to describe and doesn’t require a medical diagnosis to explain.  In short, I live my life according to Matthew 7:12, and treat people the way I would like to be treated.

What this means is at work, I stock flavored creamer in the fridge for one particular professor, help another employee get the copier to work correctly, and walk across the campus in the middle of the afternoon to take papers to a staff member – all things which are not technically in my job description.  At home, I wash and fold the laundry and put it all away, with the exception of my partner’s clothes for the next day, which I lay out in order so he can find them easily when he gets out of bed at 4:30 in the morning to start a 12-hour workday.  I help my son put his socks on – not because at age seven and a half he’s incapable of doing it alone, but because he still struggles to get the toe lines from bunching up in his shoes, which frustrates him.  I know if I had to get up in the cold at 4:30 in the morning six days a week like my partner, or was having trouble putting my clothing on like my son, I would want someone to lend a hand.  That’s why I do the things I do.

The flip side to this behavior of mine is exactly what a therapist once told me:  People like me have a tendency to end up bankrupt emotionally, physically, and financially because if we are not careful, we will give all that we have to give in service of others and find that our own tank is depleted in the process.  In the vein of self-awareness, I try to guard very carefully against this happening.  The ways I find balance include focusing on boundaries by saying “no” when warranted and practicing self-care.  For me, self-care might mean taking a half day off work and wandering around the mall alone, going out to lunch with a good friend, or simply leaving the laundry unfolded and going to sleep early.

There is a misconception that treating others the way we ourselves want to be treated means a free-for-all.  After all, who wouldn’t say yes to a Lamborghini or a free trip to Tahiti?  To be clear, if giving those things away is within your financial abilities, then by all means, give away that new car.  For most of us, however, treating others the way we want to be treated doesn’t mean gifting material goods or depleting ourselves in the process.  In fact, it does us good to be told “no” from time to time.  One of the most attractive things to me in a partner is someone who is not afraid to challenge me or encourage me to grow, which sometimes translates to me being disappointed or falling on my face.  If my partner was so lazy that he wouldn’t get out of bed to go to work unless I prepared his clothing for him, that would be detrimental and classified as codependent.  If my son was a teenager and refused to wear socks unless Mom put them on him, that would be rewarding his ineptitude and inability to grow.  There is a fine line between enabling someone and nurturing them.

Last but not least, a major hole in my game is my addictive personality.  It’s partially due to genetics – I have a history of alcohol and substance abuse in my family – and partially due to mindset.  I don’t go to the bar and drink, because I discovered when I drink, I have no “off switch.”  There was a time in my early college years when I could drink a fifth of rum with friends and still drive home.  Looking back, I realize how scary this was and am thankful that I made it out to tell the tale.  My largest addiction by far, however, is food addiction.  I had an eye-opening experience at Walt Disney World last spring when I got on a ride with my daughter and I was so chubby that the lap bar smashed me.  Although no one realized it but me, I felt embarrassed and vowed then and there to make a change.  Easier said than done, as I have come to realize over the past year that my issues with food, addiction, and self-worth go hand-in-hand.

I can easily eat 11 pieces of pizza and a stack of brownies at Cici’s buffet.  I know this because I’ve done it!  One year during Lent I decided to give up donuts, so on Fat Tuesday, I sat in my car alone and ate a half dozen of them from Dunkin’ Donuts and felt justified in doing so.  I work on conquering my demons every single day, and some days it’s easier than others.  It doesn’t take someone with a Ph.D. after their name to figure out that I abuse food to fill an emotional hole inside myself.  I weigh myself daily.  On the days when the scale goes down even a few ounces, I celebrate; on the days it doesn’t cooperate, I have to catch myself before I deliver a mental beat-down.  My self-worth is bigger than the number on the scale, and I’m fighting this addiction with all that I have.

These are the three major holes in my game, but like many others, I possess a whole cadre of them.  In no particular order, some of my other random holes include giving unsolicited advice, snoring, dropping food on my shirt when I’m eating, singing off-key to the car radio, and refusing to drink out of a cup without a straw.  The important thing for each of us is that we continue to grow and be the best version of ourselves that we can be.  Through self-awareness and self-control, we can work on filling our holes in this game called life.

I spent two days this weekend at an amusement park.

In some ways, it was an epic fail.  I failed to go to Aldi, so the refrigerator resembles a husk of what it should.  I failed to wash and fold all the laundry, so the basket is overflowing with an amalgam of towels and undies and school uniforms.  I failed to get a decent night’s sleep, because in order to make it to the amusement park by 10:00 Saturday morning, I had to roll out of bed at 5:45, just like I was going to work.  I failed to sit down and rest the whole day, as evidenced by the 30,000 steps my fitness watch tracked me stepping.

But in so many more important ways, it was a win.

I spent time with seven people who mean the world to me.  I surprised my children Sunday morning when they told me what they wanted to do for the day and I said, “I thought maybe we could go to Cedar Point,” and then did just that, even though I had just made the four-hour round trip the day before with someone else.

As a Type-A, detail-oriented person, weekends are usually spent meal prepping, grocery shopping, and cleaning the toilet — not necessarily in that order.  Weekends are for catching up on homework, watching various sports games, and trying to justify eating Pop-Tarts straight from the box in an effort not to collapse from all the stress that is involved in daily life.  In all those ways, I failed this weekend.

It felt phenomenal.