ah... river - YES: the word "introject" is right. And along with that: projection. That was the connection between your posts and my experience that I was picking up on. More on that, as I go along.
Hops, Sela, Guest - (Hi Lighter!) - I guess I've been a little incoherent. This thread is less about the struggle of "quitting smoking" and how to do that, than it's about the fact that I'm finally making progress with this. I'm trying to talk out/through what I think is going on "behind the scenes"... and then see if it applies to all the other ways I sabotage myself or self-abuse. It's important to me to understand what is changing and maybe even figure out why. Maybe there's a common element in all that, that will connect with others (maybe river), and help throw some light and clarity onto what is a very fuzzy, weird, almost supernatural experience in one's experience/relationship with one's self. At least, it was/is for me. It helps to have concrete examples... symptoms... and for me, smoking is the main one; my main self-destructive, self-abusive method. You all remember a lot of my Twiggy-stories; I don't think river was here then... and there are new sub-chapters anyway or new ways that I've come to understand some of the pivotal points, in what happened.
It's a hell of a lots words, granted. I sort of have to talk myself in - to a state where I can look/think/feel about this and then keep talking, writing, until I've moved my observing eye out far enough to find the context of all these details, on all these layers or levels of experience; till it finally settles into "meaning" and makes sense. Maybe it's useless spinning mental wheels... but it's worked before. I do understand, if y'all get bored with it or just tired... you oughta be on this side of it!!!! LOL

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Introject:
River, I have a distinct memory that's mighty disturbing - I remember my mom whispering to me... telling me (on the one hand) what to think and feel about my dad. And on the other hand - asking me judge and decide which of my parents was the "better" parent. She wanted me to take sides and support her against my dad. She would challenge me to abandon my dad - as she was doing by divorcing him - in my own feelings for him. And ask me to play God or Solomon... and judge him solely on his outward behavior as a "bad person"... when I knew (even then) that he didn't want to act that way, that my mom in so many ways... didn't give him much choice and frustrated him beyond the limits of patience and understanding or tolerance. This is what's called "alienation of affection". (It wasn't even a term, back in 1969 - much less a mainstream, understood bad thing to do to kids in a divorce situation. I ran across this in my own research and so related to it and the consequences on the development of kids and adolescents.)
And of course, Nmom whispered about how natural it was for moms & daughters to always love & take care of each other; it was like some law of nature, she said***... and that all men only ever cared about was their anatomies & sexual satisfaction... and they had no feelings at all. (I already knew this was warped; I had a brother who cried alot; I had lots of friends, who happened to be boys. We talked - a LOT. It was much harder for me, even back when I was 6 or 12, to make friends with girls. I was instinctively afraid of being judged and criticized by them... and afraid that they'd "trick me" into being their slave.)
*** hmph! at the time she was whispering these things, it was already clear to me that I was doing most of the caretaking - and I knew better than to ask for any emotional connection or express any emotional needs. The response from her was always: go to your room and you just think about that; about why you're bothering - irritating - trying to hurt - me. You can come out, when you're ready to say you're sorry.
At some point, when the burden of guilty feelings started to drown me - she told me that this was my "conscience". She talked about my conscience as if it were an entity with it's own thoughts, feelings and volition.... contained somewhere IN me.
This was how she "parentified" me - persuaded, coerced, suckered me into taking care of her. And resistance to that un-natural relationship simply brought forth her anger, which she wielded like club to decimate my already vulnerable self-identity and to instill the guilt - convince me that guilt = having done a wrong to her and that I was "bad"... and needed to say I was sorry..... and of course, do what she wanted.
I felt like puppet - and she was the one "pulling my strings". At the time, I only knew I didn't like this. I spent as much time away from home as I could - with friends and their parents. And I noticed the differences. What I didn't know - and didn't have any way of knowing - is that she had groomed me to not have any boundaries, where she was concerned. Somehow, I was strong enough to try, anyway... to have my "own" self that wasn't her. But it was fragile, soft, and it had to be a "secret" or I'd risk the punishment that she dished out. But this is the source of what I call "negative attachment". I of course, was a good girl and did as I was told; smart enough to anticipate her expectations, too. But, it wasn't until I was over 50, that I realized that this connection with her was toxic to me and hurt me; it broke my heart when I finally realized that my mom simply didn't love me; she only loved the version of me that she created. The upside of this? Yes, there is one. I didn't feel obligated to cherish and love her anymore either. The liberation that followed that realization is still running through my life and changing things.
SIGH. How I possibly tell anyone all this - in 1969 - without getting myself committed to an insane asylum? At 12? What happened to kids at the hands of their parents - as long as there were no bruises, they were fed & clothed - was the parent's business. Things have thankfully improved, but there's still a ways to go, I think.
So at the end of the whole divorce saga - the months & months of anxiety, sadness, and this brainwashing campaign - she won me over to her cause. There was violence; and trauma while no parents were home - I had a near-death experience. And yet, when I came to my senses after all that - I was still functioning fairly normally, mentally. I found a hiding place for my brother and made food for us - to stay safe. And of course, when my mom returned I had to explain what I was doing in the attic; what was wrong with my brother (his behavior had regressed to infantile and he didn't speak for months after what we went through)...
the coup de grace - what finally did me in - was the fact that when I told my mom what had happened she flat out didn't believe me, and she started in on me about manufacturing some wild imaginary story that eventually evolved into a theory that I was trying to get back at her; hurt her; because she was divorcing my dad. I was in a no-win situation... and even though I had evidence to back up my story, and tried to enlist the people who knew to help me out... and all my protests about "I know what happened" were overridden by her insistence that it didn't'; when I pointed out that she wasn't there - I was - then she upped her game of abuse to force me to submit. She is still in denial about this episode and continues to tell me things like "you won't remember it right".
So, in the end, I had to submit to her... to survive. I had to split off the part of me that was in agony and needed help - because there was no help. I had to create an "appearance" of me that didn't violate her definition of who I was... and that created a crisis; conflict of self-identity... which became, eventually, a lifelong generalized anxiety... which was only temporarily soothed, via Camel tobacco. I'd found a way to mirror and mark myself (attachment) though smoking - to validate my own feelings and thoughts and memories... essentially to mother myself with what I knew prior to the trauma was a deadly, stinky, self-destructive vice. It was fitting, don't you think? An appropriate symbol to provide an inescapable clue to solving the mystery of my self - through an attachment (this time addiction) to something I used to make myself feel real, cared about - that would ultimately kill me.
There are other examples of ways I'd try to self-destruct. Smoking is just the most persistent one. But you know, river - your description of having two wills is just so perfect especially for this habit, it really connected with me. The "me" that was split off back then was still in total agony when I reclaimed her 40 years later. She truly wanted to die... it really couldn't be any worse than being faced with the fact her actual parents were alive and they absolutely didn't care what happened to her; she would've been better off if she'd been orphaned because that level of rejection was the one that almost snuffed her existence out with that level of pain, anyway. But at the same time, she had a really high level of desire to survive; to fight and win; and it was this aspect of her that I have - over a long time now - been reaching out to; validating; appreciating - and reminding HER of her own inherent ability to do survive just about anything.
Just like with a feral cat - I've had to win her over and slowly introduce other opinions than those that were whispered to and about her, so long ago. I've had to praise, acknowledge the difficulty, grieve the losses - and basically walk through all the different places of her story with her, over & over. And slowly but surely, she's beginning to believe that I am committed to her... and she's beginning to trust me... and instead of being two wills opposing each other.... we're becoming only two aspects of the same person. One that lived 40 years ago; and me now.
And the interesting thing is, that it's this merging - morphing into each other process that seems to be responsible for the fact that I'm not smoking nearly as much... without a plan, effort, or intention. This is the part I really want to try to figure out!! I know how the split happened; how I went into hiding... but this healing part is indistinct, gradual... almost without "steps to re-unite"... but I think it's important that I try to find words for what constitutes this process. Operative word: try!
