OK, THEN!!!

A huge, huge, life-impacting weight has FINALLY BEEN LIFTED. I have finally been able to write the story of what happened to me, from a present frame of mind/emotion cognizant of the emotions from then... and some more gaps have been filled in. I have been able to finally see my journey of the past few years - and the most significant pieces of it, which make all the difference.
And I know why my attempts to quit smoking have always failed, in the past.
The quit that sent me back to therapy a couple years ago was agony. Lack of nicotine sent me into rages that I couldn't explain; made me weepy for no reason; I felt physically ill. As I was lying, swinging in the hammock all wrapped up in a blanket... I had a clear realization that the way I was feeling at that time, was how I felt BEFORE I started smoking. I remember thinking: this is my body - me - without smoking. It wasn't good, at all.
In the years since - I uncovered the "why" behind those feelings; recovered a pile of memories. I worked to resolve them; and my definition of resolve is "accept". I worked to accept that:
I was abused, long before I was assaulted.
The abuse escalated AFTER I was assaulted.
My mother is mentally ill and no, she doesn't love me. I am free to not love her, also.
And that the "I" that I had to split off, put away, hide, and protect... was me, too. Including all those feelings.
And that there isn't one damn thing wrong with me: that part that I was separated from, for so long.
When I was referred to therapy - it was for psychosomatic symptoms related to anxiety. My feelings at that time, were that I was a fraud; a fake. I was confused - totally - about what was "wrong" with me. Well, don't ya know that at that point in time, "I" thought "I" was all the crap that my mom had projected on me... I WAS a FAKE; I wasn't being ME. I was only SAFE, being her.... and totally miserable trying to live up to that projected identity... without normal, healthy boundaries.
A perfect storm of situations came together in my life - in my relationship with my hubby, in the lives of my girls, and my insane boss at work, that put PRESSURE on this dichotomy... of how I defined "me"... on the fakiness of me... and I couldn't explain myself to my T. I had no reason for why I felt this way -- but she knew, because I had all but told her my story at the very, very beginning... while still oblivious to significance - still in repressed denial - to the facts in my very own history.
Since ending therapy, I've continued working. And damn, if it still wasn't possible to quit smoking! You all have witnessed all the circles, paths, & analysis/naval gazing I've gone down, trying to figure this all out.
It's really simple:
I was only SAFE in that projected identity... (that's only PART of a sentence)... SAFE from my MOTHER and her abuse.
I finally got this today, when I realized that the "witch doctor"; the psychiatrist my mom took me to - to "fix" me and my grief, rage, and refusal to submit to being what my mom insisted I "should" be; this woman actually saved my life. This woman told me: if it gets too much to bear, you can hide all this away - and be safe from HER - and can work through it LATER. I had mistakenly believed that this woman was responsible for "doing me in" - for separating that part of myself from consciousness.
It was AFTER that session, that it got to be too much to bear. Because I wasn't instantly "cured" of being myself, my mom shunned me. And I had to - face the fact that she didn't love me; that I didn't matter to her. I had to submit to being what she wanted me to be... to survive... until I could leave home and finally make myself safe from this woman who gave birth to me, but wasn't my mother. When the horror of this situation settled onto me, I was completely inconsolable. First my Dad - gone; my sub-moms - gone; my mother - a nightmare.
And I remembered what the woman told me; how to protect myself and save myself from this instrusive, boundary-violating situation.
Smoking - helped me maintain the projection my mom pushed on me. Helpless = addicted. Smoking helped me deny my real self - put away all those feelings - for 40 years. Smoking kept me SAFE. And when I realized that without nicotine, I was feeling all those feelings again... the fear of abuse for daring to be my self was so great, that only continuing smoking could make it bearable.
I believe that those feelings have healed - at least, as well as can be expected over the past few years. I will always carry the scars - be sensitive to certain situations, I think. But I no longer fear being myself or those old echoes of feelings. I no longer fear my mom - because my boundaries have been getting a good bit of exercise at work... and I have no qualms about keeping them pretty high and solid with her.
I do believe that I'm "done". As "done" as I can get...
and now, when I stop smoking the next time (very, very soon)... I won't retreat, give up, or "need" the safety of smoking, just because of who I am. The plan will get carried out - followed through on - this time.
Those odd bits of floating memory that have been coming to me lately - that's just my brain, reconnecting ME - filling in gaps... making my SELF whole again.