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Backseat Driver

(4,433 posts)
9. I started smoking at age 16 in the home of DH's parents.
Wed Oct 12, 2022, 06:08 PM
Oct 2022

His childhood family was also dysfunctional; a married to dad mother and a female friend of his mother; it's a long story. Mom passed; female friend passed in the only home she'd known as an adult. Dad passed - very likely that second-hand smoke caused cancer. I married at 19 for love but also for the sake of my younger sibs because I thought my Dad was dying of asthma due to air pollution and Mom didn't even have a GED. I thought we were already poor and skipped the usual college experience. Oh, the irony! I once quit smoking, not cleaned, of nicotine for 3 days w/hypnosis; once again long after for 3 years post a hospital observation and another for a minor cardiovascular issue; but nothing really improved in my life during those times that we had a mortgage on 3 homes, so I was grateful I wasn't hungry, dirty, and didn't lack a place to stay or the loss of my middle-age kids' love and care. I've sold and lost the last of those homes, financial stability, and a lot of my faith. I guess I wasn't a brave enough adult? Knowing full well it was slow suicide, I returned to providing the self-abuse of cigarettes. It's my perception that, at my age now, nothing better is coming to improve my slippery slope to the end of constant loss, isolation, or the humiliation that I allowed all of it because I had, you know, made promises. My family betrayed me and I paid the consequences of going no contact when requested by my mother that she never wanted to speak to me again. I told her to have a nice life and hung up. Dad never called to verify they were "on the same page." I'll never know if the Alzheimers was already taking it's toll. My brother, never left home--never even had his own phone number. No one ever requested help for anything in caring for any of them. DH's childhood adults, all 3, were deceased--all together from that first smoking household given up for medical bills and depression-era fear of investments and education. Not a chance I'll ever get any support from the remaining sister; she did not even tell me when my brother was interred because "it was quick" but she's got a severely disabled child and control of all the assets of the deceased. She once told me that my kids deserved literally nothing because they were healthy. My DH stole my core identity as his helpmate and the wife who bore his children. We lost jobs, homes, and friends; I lost trust in humanity and faith that God loved me. I'm just not a memorable human with few, now obsolete skills, and little if any financial resources; most things never were for better but hey, you know, I promised stuff. Who would even acknowledge they know me as a "worthy" person? Counselors over the years were kind - an adjustment disorder (into socioeconomic lower class) they said. They referred me, lied to me, and abandoned me as a patient. I'm terrified of what remains of my lifetime and confess to using my addiction as slow suicide. There's likely no time left to recover my lost self - I guess I'm grateful I'm still physically fairly healthy, breathing, (no Covid to date) and voting, but slowing down, and I need support and help going farther forward on this journey of life! MAGAts, Christofascists, nor the uber-rich will ever provide what we'll need to recover from this trauma. We're so unlikely to "fake it till we make it." Mid-terms: BLUE down the line and the patience and hope I wake up each new day of wonder, mostly "why us?"

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