So, in late 1989, I was sitting in my mothers garage in the old house across the way here. It was filled wirh filth, overflowing with garbage. Dead flies, oil and gas fumes. A dead rat and a dead bird in the refrigerator along with some ginger ale.
I was a fixture there. I wasnt allowed to smoke in the house or on the glassed in porch and my mother put a chair by the window in the garage and I occupied it
Afyer 2 years, I threw the pack of Marlboro Red at the door. I so desperately wanted to quit and I couldnt. And, I was ready to leave town and didnt know what to do as I had no resources, just a few things and my car and my disability paycheck; I couldnt work.
The cigarettes were keeping me patched together from a life out of control, I was driving the country roads without a purpose or a plan, disconnected from my former self.
I went out and bought a pack of Marlboro Lights. The tan ones.
Next thing I knew I was at a singles dance in Reading talking to a man who had a pack of Marlboro Lights. It was too weird. I knew that he probably thought that that was a connection when in fact I was trying to taper off of the smoking with those Marlboro Lights.
Today, the Lord constantly tells me that the cough and sinus problems and everything else surrounding the smoking over the years are a badge of courage and honor. Even though it killed 2 unborn children and poisoned my living sons life.
Because it helped me with the clitoral injury.
Because I couldnt have sex OR ANY OTHER ENJOYMENT.
I did have sexual intercours with my exhusband but I wasnt able to enjoy it
I COULDNT EVEN HOLD MY CHILD. BECAUSE OF THE OCD that was incidental to the clitoral injury over time.
Over time, as I aged, spiritual goods and virtues became more important than physical, I am living a quiet little life on my own. Post-divorce, post-hands-on motherhood. But i still need the smokes, I dont “over smoke” any more, that’s gone. Some would say that any smoking is over smoking.
My ex and I left town and headed for Texas; he had a job offer there.
I was suicidal especially as I had had an abortion. He was a Canadian national and I had UK citizenship through my parents. On the way to the Judge’s office I said “we will marry for the Green Card.” (The work permit.)
The immigration lawyer in California put it this way: “The marriage is incidental to the relationship.” Because she could see it was a little fishy but, at the same time, I was desperate to keep the relationship and he couldn’t stay in the country without the Green Card so he could continue to work.
So, he wanted to know why I didnt want to have a wedding (when we were still in Texas.)
For one thing I had just aborted our child.
WHY THE HELL DID YOU GET ME PREGNANT? I WAS TOO SICK TO HAVE THE BABY.
Also, I wasnt sure that he was over his college girlfriend whom he had known for 8 years and they had only broken up a year earlier.
Also, I was completely alienated from friends, family, and society at large. The garage at my mothers house here was like a last outpost of civilization.
California was a good move for us. (The job in Texas failed.)
So, we got off to a rocky start and then I became very ill. It was the weirdest thing.
I developed this bizarre OCD and then Lord is only now healing it THIRTY YEARS LATER through faith in Him.
Another abortion; and a born child.
Now I am trying to dovetail all if this and I see that for me, the smoking is like the meds. It became oart of my mental protocol such that, just like how going back to an old medication resets me back to the last time I took it, so it is with smoking, the chemicals in my system take me back to former times.
I cant argue for any one else’s smoking and I am so horribly sorry for how my smoking impacted my son and I feel like I should quit for his sake now out of respect. I WAS ABLE to all but quit recently for about 3 years and its was BEAUTIFUL. But the Lord has been bringing it back upon me in a way that I can only accept.
I have it here that I was going to come here complaining about my mother bringing me cartons if cigarettes at the state hospital when I probably should have been breaking off of that there. It made me look awful and laid down a really sick, serious 3 pack a day habit during that critical period in my life when things teally count. That’s probably what needed to be done. Regarding the clitoral injury. I was thinking, fir a minute, maybe I did need this–those free cigarettes– but i am seeing that EXACTLY. PRECISELY. It was the opposite. She was feeding the unreality.
She didnt want me to know or to tell. That’s what was going in all these years. She’s gone. Its out.
As for the wedding that never happened, Alex, dear, its what I just said. I ruined every wedding I ever went to; not to worry. I thought it was beautiful just the way it was.
Also, you asked the night we met whether I wanted to call you Alex or Sandy and I finally realized that I was waitng on an Alex; obviously, you.