No subject

communication.  I go to antiwar rallies; I write letters asking why
America has hurt so many people so bad.  But America tells me to shut
up; America says all this is for my own good.  So I shut up because if
I don't, I'll lose this relationship.  And, really, there's nothing I
can do to stop America.  Is there?

This is called having low self-esteem.  However, as an American
codependent, I can have low self-esteem and be proud.  Actually,
thinking you don't count for much is kind of patriotic.  I mean, what
does your life matter when you're poor and 19 and shooting it out in
Iraq, defending democracy against those mentally ill suicide bombers?
In fact, I think most of the U.S. military is probably even more
codependent about America than I am, bless their needy little hearts.

But in the Big Picture, I know that I am serving History -- which is
chock full of brave "codependentistas" who gave up happiness or
careers to enable some truly depraved people.  Some of them, such as
Jesus, Superman, and Eva Braun, I have put on my screen saver.

Occasionally, History speaks of codependents who tried to achieve a
sort of national self-actualization.  Like those recovering Russian
codependents in 1917 who stormed the Winter Palace?  But History shows
that those people usually end up way more depressed than they started
out.  So I'm burning my Al-Anon card and embracing my shame.

I have to, because America has just taken $700,000,000,000 of my money
to "bail out" a few fellow addicts.  Maybe it was my codependence;
maybe I was temporarily stunned by Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson's
perplexing resemblance to Michel Foucault.  In any case, I just
couldn't do much about it.

Oh, I might have clicked on a few e-petitions, asking for more
"accountability."  The upshot is: if I couldn't stop America -- also
on my dime -- from murdering uncountable thousands of Iraqi and
Afghani human beings, what right or ability do I have to stop this
bailout?  If I have been too psychologically paralyzed to respond to
the annihilation of an entire culture -- how can I seriously contest
the destruction of my own economy?

I know what you're thinking: that America is addicted to oil; that
some day soon, they'll cut the mainline and kick America out of rehab.
 Then America and I will die together in the gutter.  But I don't
care.  I don't even care if, one night, America comes home from one of
its drunken binges and murders me.  Codependents don't ask for much;
we give.  I have given my house, my job, my kids, my health, my air --
to America.  But it's OK.  See, I am part of History.

Susie Day lives in New York City where she writes a humor column for
feminist and gay publications. She has also written on U.S. political
prisoners and labor issues and thinks her girlfriend, Laura Whitehorn,
is hot stuff.