nccotus

nested romances were led to be tanked because of a psychiatric malpractice. a good post for Valentine’s day. Lifting my life up to St. Valentine, who helped Christians to marry.

I had some banal inconsequential relationships that I ought not to have based on my mother’s encouraging promiscuity but three serious ones that taxed my soul. The marriage was legit but it was severely taxed by the relationship with JF in Somerville and MC at Harvard College. These nonmarital relationships blew open my heart and Alex fell into the hole. Not understanding. I turned to others to help and he didn’t understand that either. He trusted my parents instead of me. I was having trouble communicating with him because of something they did. They were English. He was Scottish Canadian. There was a sympatico there that was natural that I couldn’t beat.

At the time all I could see there was my own anger and frustration with them for reaching out to him over my head. I really didn’t understand all this at the time. Just that they were dicking me over.

my mother liked the relationship with JF and thought we were going to marry. That was never in the cards.

the problem was about what language was to be spoken and I assumed that my brand of international English would pertain. I wouldn’t have put it in words that way at the time but that was the issue. My father had Yorkshire working class English toned up by scholarship PhD embellishments and my mother had aristocratic untrained class accents, I had Kent School and Harvard tenured by a weird training at WSU lol I took a serious education at the Lodge Program at the state hospital, WSH, we affectionally termed it Wernersville State University. It seriously taxed my brain. One too many trainings.

they had Alex convinced I was a brain disturbed moron. Guilty but excusable. When in fact I was not guilty. There had been an argument about me and I was giddy with relief to find someone from out of the area to resolve the situation especially as my brother had met a woman from Manhattan who was chasing me off of my game. The upshot was tenable. We left town and headed south to Texas to be married and then West to California for a “working honeymoon,” as my mother had had a year’s “working honeymoon” in the U.S but stayed. We lived in Perry’s, a dystopic Paris, just as her honeymoon started with a brief stop in Paris. I know that Alex never had an inkling of any of this but now he does. I was so ill in my mind heart and soul. Two babies lost through abortion. And I already had a brain problem that was viciously loused up by how my mother forced the situation with Alex. It WAS all about how to talk. English vs American.

so, yes, we married. We had the will to marry. So what if he wanted the Green Card. That was between me and him. My mother wanted that to be between her and him. The immigration attorney tried to make it be over my head but it wasn’t. That was something I had to offer. I had that and a credit rating and a car and some furnishings and some cash to offer. We were in dire straits. I wasn’t bringing that much else to the table. I wanted the relationship and couldn’t keep it any other way.

i was having the brain problem even in my sleep. It was horrific and terrifying.

it is a long time since I have visited this place in my soul. Alex didn’t know what to make of what was happening to me. It would take a long time to explain. Hopkins Hospital psych ward made it all a dead loss. John Lipsey termed the marriage “a disaster” and left it at that. There were so many poignant feelings and memories that were lost we were butchered by the return to the northeastern social and physical climate and then South Florida.

and here I am today.