Been MIA the past few days..work has been absolutely INSANE with Quarter and Year end looming. Thankfully, it all dies down tomorrow and then will start all over again next year.
Christmas was great...the kids were super excited to get their PS2 (a gently used hand-me-down from my manager) along with the 20 games they got to go along with it. Madelyn got her Heely's (you know, those stupid sneakers with the even more stupid wheels) and her pink soccer ball..and Chase got his "big boy" scooter and tons of arts and crafts stuff to keep his busy hands busy..lol.
My amom and asister (along with her husband, MIL and two boys) came over for crappetizers and dessert...and then a little before they left my nmom and nsister came. I have to admit that it was terribly awkward there for a little while. No one really knew how to bridge the gap..and so, it wasn't bridged. But they were cordial to each other. I was relieved when everyone else had left and it was just my nmom, nsister, Steven and Madelyn in the house...(Chase spent the day with his dad and his family).
I'd written to my asister before Christmas..telling her that I wasn't trying to be selfish by inviting my nfamily. That I just wanted to share the holiday with both of my families...I didn't get her response until I returned to work on Monday:
In some ways bringing the biological family and the adoptive family together is like bringing together the ex-wife and current wife, children from first marriage and children from second marriage, all to celebrate together.
Everybody has to work a little extra hard to be okay, and it takes time. Of course you're not selfish to want to do it, and hopefully you know that the other people aren't meaning to be selfish either.
I'll be honest, Chrissy, it hits me on a deep level that you have another sister. That's my issue, not yours, and I certainly don't begrudge you a relationship with Cate and wouldn't want you to keep Cate and I separate because of it. But it still makes me feel weepy. So I imagine it's similar for mom. Make any sense?
So, I read that part of her email and immediately started feeling really crappy for putting them through it. And as much as I didn't want to feel selfish, that's exactly how I ended up feeling.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
"It All Makes Sense Now"
That's what my asister said when I told her about the flashbacks and why I'm in therapy this time. She knew about when I was in therapy during my early 20's, and that it was because our adad was "inappropriate"..but now that she knows that there was more, she said that it explains a lot about why I am the way I am, and why things have been the way they are for me.
Phew.
We had lunch on Saturday..something we don't get to do very often without the kids. I was hesitant to talk to her about what's been going on, but I just had to. She's the only one who experienced the mental, emotional and physical abuse that I did...and we are getting to the point that we can talk about it openly.
My amother has put my father on a pedestal now that he's dead. It's infuriating...and sad. She had been abused as a child at the hands of her uncle..and then she married an abuser because it's all she knew. And because of that, I was abused. I'm sick and tired of hearing how great of a guy he was...NO HE FUCKING WASN'T. She's got this selective memory about what life was like and I hate that I can't anything to her about it because I'm still afraid of her. In my mind, I'm still a little girl and need to keep my mouth shut for fear of angering her.
The bureau that my daughter scratched up the other day belonged to my sister, and before that, belonged to my mother. When I told my mother what Madelyn had done and that she was afraid that everyone was going to hate her when they found out, my mother said, "She's just a little girl...don't get mad at her...it's only a bureau after all".
WHAT THE FUCK???
Now, I certainly didn't react calmly when I saw the bureau, but I sure as hell didn't react like my mother would have if that had been me or my sister when we were nine years old (old enough to know better, by the way). We would have had the crap beaten out of us and then be made to sit for hours listening to the ranting and swearing...all the while packing our bags in our heads for the guilt trip we were about to imbark on.
I remember one day I had a friend over afterschool. We were playing in my room and my friend grabbed the afghan that was folded neatly on the bottom of my bed. For one second, I froze in terror. I NEVER took the afghan off my bed because I couldn't ever fold it like my mother did. I decided that there was nothing I could do except fold it somewhat close to how she had it.
My friend left for home and my mother came in my room to drop off my laundry. And it happened.
"Why did you take the afghan off your bed?" She said, teeth gritted.
"I didn't, Shannon did...I tried to put it back the right way but..." I said, cowering in the corner.
"That afghan was made for you by your aunt...don't your friends know how to respect your things??" Her voice was getting louder...
"Mom, she didn't know...I put it back right away but..."
"Tell Shannon that she's not to come here ever again...not until she can learn how to respect this house...".
The lecture continued for most of the night. The daggers that flew from my mother's eyes cut through my heart and took a little more of my soul.
I said something about the afghan story to my sister and she said that she remembered that day.
It was a stupid afghan! In fact, the very same afghan is currently sitting on my living room floor waiting for my son to come home and claim it before bedtime.
I just have to shake my head sometimes at the ridiculousness of my childhood...or lack thereof.
It DOES explain a lot though...don't you think?
Phew.
We had lunch on Saturday..something we don't get to do very often without the kids. I was hesitant to talk to her about what's been going on, but I just had to. She's the only one who experienced the mental, emotional and physical abuse that I did...and we are getting to the point that we can talk about it openly.
My amother has put my father on a pedestal now that he's dead. It's infuriating...and sad. She had been abused as a child at the hands of her uncle..and then she married an abuser because it's all she knew. And because of that, I was abused. I'm sick and tired of hearing how great of a guy he was...NO HE FUCKING WASN'T. She's got this selective memory about what life was like and I hate that I can't anything to her about it because I'm still afraid of her. In my mind, I'm still a little girl and need to keep my mouth shut for fear of angering her.
The bureau that my daughter scratched up the other day belonged to my sister, and before that, belonged to my mother. When I told my mother what Madelyn had done and that she was afraid that everyone was going to hate her when they found out, my mother said, "She's just a little girl...don't get mad at her...it's only a bureau after all".
WHAT THE FUCK???
Now, I certainly didn't react calmly when I saw the bureau, but I sure as hell didn't react like my mother would have if that had been me or my sister when we were nine years old (old enough to know better, by the way). We would have had the crap beaten out of us and then be made to sit for hours listening to the ranting and swearing...all the while packing our bags in our heads for the guilt trip we were about to imbark on.
I remember one day I had a friend over afterschool. We were playing in my room and my friend grabbed the afghan that was folded neatly on the bottom of my bed. For one second, I froze in terror. I NEVER took the afghan off my bed because I couldn't ever fold it like my mother did. I decided that there was nothing I could do except fold it somewhat close to how she had it.
My friend left for home and my mother came in my room to drop off my laundry. And it happened.
"Why did you take the afghan off your bed?" She said, teeth gritted.
"I didn't, Shannon did...I tried to put it back the right way but..." I said, cowering in the corner.
"That afghan was made for you by your aunt...don't your friends know how to respect your things??" Her voice was getting louder...
"Mom, she didn't know...I put it back right away but..."
"Tell Shannon that she's not to come here ever again...not until she can learn how to respect this house...".
The lecture continued for most of the night. The daggers that flew from my mother's eyes cut through my heart and took a little more of my soul.
I said something about the afghan story to my sister and she said that she remembered that day.
It was a stupid afghan! In fact, the very same afghan is currently sitting on my living room floor waiting for my son to come home and claim it before bedtime.
I just have to shake my head sometimes at the ridiculousness of my childhood...or lack thereof.
It DOES explain a lot though...don't you think?
Friday, December 18, 2009
Insecurity
It's going to be a hard holiday for my nsister. Her fiance passed away in July at the tender age of 22 so this will be the first Christmas without him. I'm worried about her...and know that she needs my love and support right now. And so, I invited her and my nmom to our house on Christmas Day. I told Cate (sis) that they were more than welcome to come and just get away from their town and escape for a few hours. Didn't think anything of it until I got an email from my nmom.
She didn't think that it was a good idea for them to come to our house. That it might stress out my afamily to have them there. That the timing might not be great.
I wrote back:
so here is the thing...i invited you guys to christmas because i'd love to share the holiday with you. I already passed it by Cindy and she was perfectly fine...as my mother would be. I totally understand if you aren't ready though, but just know that I'd love you to come :)
Have to go wrangle Chase into the tub..lol. Hope you had a great day!!
Love you!
She hasn't responded yet...but I did get a joke email from her today so she must not be too mad. What gets me is that it shouldn't feel this shitty to have the invitation rebuked. But it does feel shitty. And they've already all met...under much worse circumstances...Cate's fiancee's funeral. I hate that I can't share holidays with my family...my whole family. I feel so fucking torn apart tonight.
I just want to spend Christmas with my mom. Both of them. Maybe that's selfish and too much to ask, but right now, I don't care.
She didn't think that it was a good idea for them to come to our house. That it might stress out my afamily to have them there. That the timing might not be great.
I wrote back:
so here is the thing...i invited you guys to christmas because i'd love to share the holiday with you. I already passed it by Cindy and she was perfectly fine...as my mother would be. I totally understand if you aren't ready though, but just know that I'd love you to come :)
Have to go wrangle Chase into the tub..lol. Hope you had a great day!!
Love you!
She hasn't responded yet...but I did get a joke email from her today so she must not be too mad. What gets me is that it shouldn't feel this shitty to have the invitation rebuked. But it does feel shitty. And they've already all met...under much worse circumstances...Cate's fiancee's funeral. I hate that I can't share holidays with my family...my whole family. I feel so fucking torn apart tonight.
I just want to spend Christmas with my mom. Both of them. Maybe that's selfish and too much to ask, but right now, I don't care.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Enough is Enough
I have a crap ton of work that I need to be doing right now…and zero motivation to be doing any of it. I'm getting a cold, sitting at my desk with a fever and just want to cry.
I'm super emotional…for a variety of reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that (Warning: If there are any guys in my reading audience, the following will probably constitute as TMI) I just got my period after four months of nothing. Sigh. I guess I'm glad that it finally showed up, but my hormones and emotions have been going haywire lately and it's just all very overwhelming.
My darling daughter decided Saturday that instead of cleaning her room before going to see Cirque de Soleil with my boyfriend's dad, stepmom and stepniece that she'd take a pen and carve random designs into the top of her antique dresser. Found it last night when we were pulling our Christmas stuff out of the attic. Just am at a loss as to how to handle her. She's a great kid, don't get me wrong, but that just threw me right the hell over the edge.
I'm at the point that I feel like boxing up everything in her room except for her clothes and putting them away until she can learn how to respect what she has, and respect us.
Anyone have any suggestions?
My a-sister called me the other day asking what to get the kids for Christmas and mentioned that our mom had called her, worried about me. Amom knows that I'm in therapy, but not why… I told her that I was okay…that I was just working through some stuff..but I think that I might try and get up the courage to talk to my sister about what's been going on. Definitely not before Christmas though. We just put up the tree and the other decorations and I'm trying desperately to get into the holiday spirit and talking about the abuse and everything else would just send my emotions plummeting.
I'm super emotional…for a variety of reasons. Not the least of which is the fact that (Warning: If there are any guys in my reading audience, the following will probably constitute as TMI) I just got my period after four months of nothing. Sigh. I guess I'm glad that it finally showed up, but my hormones and emotions have been going haywire lately and it's just all very overwhelming.
My darling daughter decided Saturday that instead of cleaning her room before going to see Cirque de Soleil with my boyfriend's dad, stepmom and stepniece that she'd take a pen and carve random designs into the top of her antique dresser. Found it last night when we were pulling our Christmas stuff out of the attic. Just am at a loss as to how to handle her. She's a great kid, don't get me wrong, but that just threw me right the hell over the edge.
I'm at the point that I feel like boxing up everything in her room except for her clothes and putting them away until she can learn how to respect what she has, and respect us.
Anyone have any suggestions?
My a-sister called me the other day asking what to get the kids for Christmas and mentioned that our mom had called her, worried about me. Amom knows that I'm in therapy, but not why… I told her that I was okay…that I was just working through some stuff..but I think that I might try and get up the courage to talk to my sister about what's been going on. Definitely not before Christmas though. We just put up the tree and the other decorations and I'm trying desperately to get into the holiday spirit and talking about the abuse and everything else would just send my emotions plummeting.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
She Lives....
in my mind's eye. Guarding the huge wooden doors..pacing back and forth...never speaking, just expressing her emotions through her actions and facial expressions.
Behind those doors are the secrets of my soul. Secrets that I'm not even privy to..because of Girl.
Girl's probably about eight years old...dressed in a long white nightgown with flowing dark hair and barefeet. Piercing eyes pleading with me to leave it alone. Don't worry about the secrets...Girl will take care of them...forever.
But I am realizing more and more that I need to know what is lurking beyond those doors. Until I know everything, I can't fully heal.
She offered me a sneak peek into what I am dealing with...through a small window high up on the door. On tiptoes I look, and see...
Darkness. Just darkness. But it's the scariest thing I've ever seen. Because who knows what could be hiding there.
She shuts the window and shoos me away....and commences her frantic pacing again.
I just am so confused and tired. Therapy is definitely helping, but I just feel like it's an impossible dream. To be 'normal'. I don't know any different way to be except ABnormal.
What if I do see what's behind the doors and it makes things worse?
Can I take that chance?
Can I afford not to?
Behind those doors are the secrets of my soul. Secrets that I'm not even privy to..because of Girl.
Girl's probably about eight years old...dressed in a long white nightgown with flowing dark hair and barefeet. Piercing eyes pleading with me to leave it alone. Don't worry about the secrets...Girl will take care of them...forever.
But I am realizing more and more that I need to know what is lurking beyond those doors. Until I know everything, I can't fully heal.
She offered me a sneak peek into what I am dealing with...through a small window high up on the door. On tiptoes I look, and see...
Darkness. Just darkness. But it's the scariest thing I've ever seen. Because who knows what could be hiding there.
She shuts the window and shoos me away....and commences her frantic pacing again.
I just am so confused and tired. Therapy is definitely helping, but I just feel like it's an impossible dream. To be 'normal'. I don't know any different way to be except ABnormal.
What if I do see what's behind the doors and it makes things worse?
Can I take that chance?
Can I afford not to?
Friday, December 4, 2009
Thank Goddess It's Friday
I've been MIA from my blog for a few days...the below picture shows why. My poor boy has a virus and has been battling a fever (was 104 degrees yesterday..!!!) and has needed all of the snuggling and back rubbing that Mummy could offer.
Now I'm back and am struggling about whether to talk about my therapy session this week. It was difficult. To say the least. And it was very frustrating. You see, I got to "meet" the part of me that is trying to keep me safe from the trauma...in my mind's eye anyway. I really feel like I want to talk about 'her' but every time I try and put the words down, something is holding me back.
Hmmm...maybe tomorrow.
I'm tired...and 'she's' tired. After all, she's been keeping me safe for 35 years...she deserves to be a little tired.
Now I'm back and am struggling about whether to talk about my therapy session this week. It was difficult. To say the least. And it was very frustrating. You see, I got to "meet" the part of me that is trying to keep me safe from the trauma...in my mind's eye anyway. I really feel like I want to talk about 'her' but every time I try and put the words down, something is holding me back.
Hmmm...maybe tomorrow.
I'm tired...and 'she's' tired. After all, she's been keeping me safe for 35 years...she deserves to be a little tired.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Un-Thanksgiving Like
Been having a hard time lately formulating new posts. Think the holidays are affecting me more this year than usual. I ended up having a nice conversation with my aunt and cousin (adoptive side) on Thanksgiving…finally revealing that I'd been found by my natural mom and family. My aunt cried…asked me all the usual questions…and then, just when I thought I was going to escape unscathed, I got the "How's your mom (meaning my amom) dealing with this?". ::thud::
I'm just so tired of having to censor my words around people…knowing that in the back of their minds, they are more concerned with how my afamily is taking it. Where were you when my father was molesting me?? Where were you when I was awake at 2am listening to the verbal diarrhea that my amother was shooting at me and my asister? Where was your concern then?
Forgive me if I can't feel guilty for my amother anymore about my reunion. I need to be able to rejoice and be happy and not feel bad for it.
I'm NOT grateful that I am adopted…I'm NOT grateful for having the aparents that I was placed with…I was STUCK with them…no one asked my opinion on whom I'd like to grow up with. That choice was taken away from me. I know that my natural mom thought that she didn't have another choice, but I really wish she'd tried. Her mother had even told her that she'd help raise me…but my mom's mind was made up. In her head, she thought that I'd grow up with a mom and dad who wanted children and wanted to love them unconditionally. She wanted me to have the fairytale life that she couldn't offer me. She couldn't have any idea the life that I actually led would be so radically different and…sad. I guess hindsight is 20/20.
I'm just so tired of having to censor my words around people…knowing that in the back of their minds, they are more concerned with how my afamily is taking it. Where were you when my father was molesting me?? Where were you when I was awake at 2am listening to the verbal diarrhea that my amother was shooting at me and my asister? Where was your concern then?
Forgive me if I can't feel guilty for my amother anymore about my reunion. I need to be able to rejoice and be happy and not feel bad for it.
I'm NOT grateful that I am adopted…I'm NOT grateful for having the aparents that I was placed with…I was STUCK with them…no one asked my opinion on whom I'd like to grow up with. That choice was taken away from me. I know that my natural mom thought that she didn't have another choice, but I really wish she'd tried. Her mother had even told her that she'd help raise me…but my mom's mind was made up. In her head, she thought that I'd grow up with a mom and dad who wanted children and wanted to love them unconditionally. She wanted me to have the fairytale life that she couldn't offer me. She couldn't have any idea the life that I actually led would be so radically different and…sad. I guess hindsight is 20/20.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Adoption Carnival Four
Time for the Thankgiving edition of the Adoption Carnival over at Grown In My Heart
Obviously, this carnival is dedicated to giving thanks for...whatever...so here goes.
I'm thankful for my children...they are my greatest joys...and the biggest tests of my patience I could ever encounter. I've struggled as a mother...to overcome my childhood and be the mother I didn't have. I am thankful that I am learning from the mistakes that I lived through to be better and stronger. They make me laugh every day...even when life is difficult, I can laugh.
I'm thankful for my boyfriend...he's my very own Martha Stewart...laundry, cooking, cleaning, loving, caring...he does it all...for me, and for my children.
I'm thankful for my amom and sister...we've been through it all...together. The good times and the difficult times have bonded us in ways that are impossible to put into words.
I'm thankful for my natural mom taking the leap of faith and contacting me on July 11, 2008. It threw my world into a tailspin, but I wouldn't change a thing.
I'm thankful for my natural sister and brother...they are amazing and have opened their arms and hearts to me. (Even though they DO mock me for being so much shorter than they are..lol. Not my fault that I'm only 5'3" and they are giants!!
I'm thankful for love.
I'm thankful for you.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I've Been Waiting For You
Well, hello there! I know you're probably confused about why I moved...I just needed a change. I get antsy in one place for long. All my old posts are here...as are all the comments...good and bad (lol).
I hope that you'll continue to follow my journey to self awareness. I get such joy out of blogging..even when it's about difficult topics.
I hope that you'll continue to follow my journey to self awareness. I get such joy out of blogging..even when it's about difficult topics.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Triggered
The newest reality television show hit ABC last night...Find My Family.
I had NO intentions of watching, but then, all of a sudden, my finger pushed the button on the remote and I was sitting on my couch, sobbing my eyes out. Not crying because of how beautiful the show was...but crying because of how it was triggering me.
Before when I was fully engulfed in the fog and not reunited, I'd watch similar shows..like The Locator and cry because I wanted that to be me. I wanted to be found...even though I refused to believe it would ever happen to me.
Watching the show last night, my heart broke for the adoptee...as I realized that she must have been feeling horrible for knowing that her parents (now married with three other children) had given her up and kept the others. How incredibly painful it must have been to hear that her parents gave her up so she could have a better life, when in looking at the natural family, she WOULD have had a good life...with two sisters and a brother.
Now that I'm in reunion with my natural family, that thought hit home for me last night. I WOULD have had a good life with my family...and it just brought out the feelings of loss that much more in focus for me.
Read the following from the website regarding the show:
"What we love about the show is that the emotion is really earned, and it's honest," said ABC alternative series/specials/late-night co-topper John Saade. "It isn't big, contrived moments. We're not looking for train wrecks."
Reunion is like a train wreck though. And pretending that it's all rainbows, fluff and sunshine is just wrong and misleading. You start out on the train, riding at a constant speed, stopping once in awhile to let others on or off at the stations. Then there's an accident..a car or truck on the tracks that causes the train to derail..for an adoptee, this could mean that you find your natural family, or in my case, they find you. Time stops in that instant and the emotions that you feel in that moment are overwhelming. Some good, some not so good. It brings the pain of having been relinquished to the forefront of your mind and you wait for the accident to be cleared off the tracks so you can continue traveling. Might not take long, or it could be a lifelong journey. Regardless of the time, it's something you'll never forget.
Jeebus. I wish I wasn't skipping therapy this week.
I had NO intentions of watching, but then, all of a sudden, my finger pushed the button on the remote and I was sitting on my couch, sobbing my eyes out. Not crying because of how beautiful the show was...but crying because of how it was triggering me.
Before when I was fully engulfed in the fog and not reunited, I'd watch similar shows..like The Locator and cry because I wanted that to be me. I wanted to be found...even though I refused to believe it would ever happen to me.
Watching the show last night, my heart broke for the adoptee...as I realized that she must have been feeling horrible for knowing that her parents (now married with three other children) had given her up and kept the others. How incredibly painful it must have been to hear that her parents gave her up so she could have a better life, when in looking at the natural family, she WOULD have had a good life...with two sisters and a brother.
Now that I'm in reunion with my natural family, that thought hit home for me last night. I WOULD have had a good life with my family...and it just brought out the feelings of loss that much more in focus for me.
Read the following from the website regarding the show:
"What we love about the show is that the emotion is really earned, and it's honest," said ABC alternative series/specials/late-night co-topper John Saade. "It isn't big, contrived moments. We're not looking for train wrecks."
Reunion is like a train wreck though. And pretending that it's all rainbows, fluff and sunshine is just wrong and misleading. You start out on the train, riding at a constant speed, stopping once in awhile to let others on or off at the stations. Then there's an accident..a car or truck on the tracks that causes the train to derail..for an adoptee, this could mean that you find your natural family, or in my case, they find you. Time stops in that instant and the emotions that you feel in that moment are overwhelming. Some good, some not so good. It brings the pain of having been relinquished to the forefront of your mind and you wait for the accident to be cleared off the tracks so you can continue traveling. Might not take long, or it could be a lifelong journey. Regardless of the time, it's something you'll never forget.
Jeebus. I wish I wasn't skipping therapy this week.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Trolling
Yup, apparently I'm a troll. At least according to this blogger...She actually commented on my blog last week, but apparently, the tides have changed and she grew tired of hearing that someone disagreed with what she had to say. I'm sorry for that...and I'm very sorry for her...
I'm not a troll. Just someone who has a blogsearch function on my Google Reader that searches for adoptees/adoption on a daily basis because I like to catch up on what others are talking about. I have other searches saved on Google, of course, but I just wanted to clear up the fact that I'm not actively "seeking" adoptive parents' blogs. In fact, I'd rather NOT read them, but it's like a train crash...I can't tear my eyes away. Friends will also send me links to sites that they think I might be interested in reading...sometimes I comment, sometimes I don't.
To anyone who's been offended by my comments on their blogs, I apologize for that. But I won't apologize for trying to start a conversation in the hopes of showing people my story. No, I can't speak for EVERY adoptee...but I do have a large base of friends who are adopted, and 99.99% of them agree with me and that's a pretty telling percentage if you ask me.
You can take the child out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the child.
I'm not a troll. Just someone who has a blogsearch function on my Google Reader that searches for adoptees/adoption on a daily basis because I like to catch up on what others are talking about. I have other searches saved on Google, of course, but I just wanted to clear up the fact that I'm not actively "seeking" adoptive parents' blogs. In fact, I'd rather NOT read them, but it's like a train crash...I can't tear my eyes away. Friends will also send me links to sites that they think I might be interested in reading...sometimes I comment, sometimes I don't.
To anyone who's been offended by my comments on their blogs, I apologize for that. But I won't apologize for trying to start a conversation in the hopes of showing people my story. No, I can't speak for EVERY adoptee...but I do have a large base of friends who are adopted, and 99.99% of them agree with me and that's a pretty telling percentage if you ask me.
You can take the child out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the child.
Friday, November 20, 2009
"Ordained By God"
I read a blog post today that really gave me pause...for a variety of reasons:
X... and Y..., may you always know that your Dad and I could never love you more were we to share strands of those silly things called DNA. May you always know that you became ours because you were loved and valued, by your first families and by God, and we were all chosen to be a family! I wish everyone knew what a beautiful thing God ordained adoption to be!
First off, DNA is not silly as this poster said. Unless of course, you're an adoptive parent who likes it when others tell you that your adopted child looks like you...
Just last week when I went to pick up my daughter from my amother's apartment, two of the old bitties who live on her floor were out talking to my mother. One of the women, not knowing that I'm adopted, said, "Wow, SHE doesn't look like you Barbara.." referring to me. My mother just smiled and changed the subject, but I wanted to scream at her..."OF COURSE I DON'T LOOK LIKE HER, YOU NINNY...I'M FREAKING ADOPTED!". I should add that right before she said I don't look like my amother, the other old bitty said to me, "Your daughter could be your clone!".
I spent my childhood, teenage years, 20's and early 30's wondering where I got different facial features...and now I know...it's in my DNA. I share many genetic traits with my natural family...and now, I can see that for myself. It's incredibly empowering.
As for my adoption being "ordained by God", my response to that is, what kind of God would place me with abusive parents? Not mine, so the molestation must have been ordained by your God. Not the kind of loving, caring Creator that I believe in...but whatever ::shrug::
X... and Y..., may you always know that your Dad and I could never love you more were we to share strands of those silly things called DNA. May you always know that you became ours because you were loved and valued, by your first families and by God, and we were all chosen to be a family! I wish everyone knew what a beautiful thing God ordained adoption to be!
First off, DNA is not silly as this poster said. Unless of course, you're an adoptive parent who likes it when others tell you that your adopted child looks like you...
Just last week when I went to pick up my daughter from my amother's apartment, two of the old bitties who live on her floor were out talking to my mother. One of the women, not knowing that I'm adopted, said, "Wow, SHE doesn't look like you Barbara.." referring to me. My mother just smiled and changed the subject, but I wanted to scream at her..."OF COURSE I DON'T LOOK LIKE HER, YOU NINNY...I'M FREAKING ADOPTED!". I should add that right before she said I don't look like my amother, the other old bitty said to me, "Your daughter could be your clone!".
I spent my childhood, teenage years, 20's and early 30's wondering where I got different facial features...and now I know...it's in my DNA. I share many genetic traits with my natural family...and now, I can see that for myself. It's incredibly empowering.
As for my adoption being "ordained by God", my response to that is, what kind of God would place me with abusive parents? Not mine, so the molestation must have been ordained by your God. Not the kind of loving, caring Creator that I believe in...but whatever ::shrug::
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A Lot To Think About
Thank you to everyone who commented on my blog today. Really. I couldn't believe how many views I got, and while I certainly didn't get 200 comments to go along with the 200 views (thankfully because I'd probably be responding to them all until 2010), I did learn a little bit more of the give and take between adoptees and AP's.
I appreciate the dialogue...good, bad, indifferent...it made me think. Perhaps my brain is on overload now though because I can't form a complete thought.
Good night.
I appreciate the dialogue...good, bad, indifferent...it made me think. Perhaps my brain is on overload now though because I can't form a complete thought.
Good night.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Rude Awakening
So, I don't agree with international adoption...or domestic adoption. But I've always been semi-okay with foster-to-adopt. I thought that "those kids" needed families more than the kids being ripped away from their homelands and natural families.
But really, what is the difference? The children in foster care have families too. Families that they were taken from in much the same way that the international and domestic adoptees were taken from.
One of my online friends called out a bunch of us on it today. She was in foster care and made me realize how very hurtful our words were.
Wow. I really feel awful.
But really, what is the difference? The children in foster care have families too. Families that they were taken from in much the same way that the international and domestic adoptees were taken from.
One of my online friends called out a bunch of us on it today. She was in foster care and made me realize how very hurtful our words were.
Wow. I really feel awful.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
It'd Be Easy
It'd be easy to go completely private on this blog. I've considered it several times actually...but then I've realized that it's important to get my words out...no matter how someone else might view my opinions or experiences.
I've noticed other bloggers flouncing out of the public blogosphere because of comments that were made on their sites. And I think it's silly. Grow thicker skin and speak up for yourself! I've had really lousy comments directed my way, but instead of running, I've faced them head on. And I'll continue to do so.
If you disagree with a bunch of lowly adoptees, then tell us why. But I have to warn you, using God or Fate or whatever as a reason for why adoption is awesome won't cut it with most of us.
I've noticed other bloggers flouncing out of the public blogosphere because of comments that were made on their sites. And I think it's silly. Grow thicker skin and speak up for yourself! I've had really lousy comments directed my way, but instead of running, I've faced them head on. And I'll continue to do so.
If you disagree with a bunch of lowly adoptees, then tell us why. But I have to warn you, using God or Fate or whatever as a reason for why adoption is awesome won't cut it with most of us.
Friday, November 13, 2009
National Adoption Month...Hmmmmm
It goes to show how much in the fog I was until recently. I didn't even KNOW that someone had come up with the idea of National Adoption Month (hereafter referred to as NAM).
From the description on the above linked site, it would seem to be a great idea. Raising awareness and promoting adoption for children who are in foster care....great, right? My problem with it comes when people use NAM in their responses to comments as proof that it's a wonderful thing ALL the time. It's not. It's completely offensive to adoptees to celebrate such loss and pain...it's disrespectful. Just as it's disrespectful to proclaim that it was "God's will" that a mother gave up her child so a couple who were unable to have their own children could take over and become the parents.
Spending time with my natural mom solidifies our bond...and yes, makes me extremely resentful that she felt that her only choice was to give me up. Would my life have been hard? Maybe. But no more hard than it was to live with themonsters people entrusted to my care...
I had both of my children out of wedlock. Never in my mind was there a chance that I'd give them up for someone else to raise. Was I prepared to be a mom? No. Honestly it's been difficult. If I'd have a choice, I would have waited until the relationships I was in were more stable. But with all the issues I had growing up, I'm not surprised that this is the course of my life. I don't begrudge my mother the choice she made for herself..and for me...but that doesn't mean that I'm not hurt.
It's not easy for people who aren't adopted to understand the point of view of adoptees. We're labeled as being anti-adoption. But really, shouldn't we be allowed to be bitter? And if not, tell me why...
From the description on the above linked site, it would seem to be a great idea. Raising awareness and promoting adoption for children who are in foster care....great, right? My problem with it comes when people use NAM in their responses to comments as proof that it's a wonderful thing ALL the time. It's not. It's completely offensive to adoptees to celebrate such loss and pain...it's disrespectful. Just as it's disrespectful to proclaim that it was "God's will" that a mother gave up her child so a couple who were unable to have their own children could take over and become the parents.
Spending time with my natural mom solidifies our bond...and yes, makes me extremely resentful that she felt that her only choice was to give me up. Would my life have been hard? Maybe. But no more hard than it was to live with the
I had both of my children out of wedlock. Never in my mind was there a chance that I'd give them up for someone else to raise. Was I prepared to be a mom? No. Honestly it's been difficult. If I'd have a choice, I would have waited until the relationships I was in were more stable. But with all the issues I had growing up, I'm not surprised that this is the course of my life. I don't begrudge my mother the choice she made for herself..and for me...but that doesn't mean that I'm not hurt.
It's not easy for people who aren't adopted to understand the point of view of adoptees. We're labeled as being anti-adoption. But really, shouldn't we be allowed to be bitter? And if not, tell me why...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Power of Three
I've split myself. Okay, that might not make sense to you...but to me, it makes perfect sense.
There's "Little Cricket"...the little girl who spent the bulk of her childhood hiding. Trying to stay three steps ahead of her a-mom so that she could say the right things to avoid being yelled at. The little girl who dreaded coming home after school because it was a crapshoot. Either things would be fine, or she'd walk into a minefield...dodging the explosions of an angry woman...or the abuse of a sick man.
Then there's "Wise Cricket". She's the peaceful one. The one who remembers all the 'bad stuff'...and yet remains calm..confident. She's very courageous too. Keeping the secrets until it's time to reveal all. I've never actually met "Wise Cricket"...no one has.
The last is the "Manager". She spends her day running interference between Little Cricket and Wise Cricket. Sometimes Wise Cricket wants to tell her little counterpart all the gory details of the past..wants to pass on the wisdom she's come to acquire after the years of abuse...and it's Manager's job to keep that from happening.
My therapist is trying to help me to change Manager's way of thinking. To let her know that it's safe to pass on Wise Cricket's knowledge...so Little Cricket can heal.
There's "Little Cricket"...the little girl who spent the bulk of her childhood hiding. Trying to stay three steps ahead of her a-mom so that she could say the right things to avoid being yelled at. The little girl who dreaded coming home after school because it was a crapshoot. Either things would be fine, or she'd walk into a minefield...dodging the explosions of an angry woman...or the abuse of a sick man.
Then there's "Wise Cricket". She's the peaceful one. The one who remembers all the 'bad stuff'...and yet remains calm..confident. She's very courageous too. Keeping the secrets until it's time to reveal all. I've never actually met "Wise Cricket"...no one has.
The last is the "Manager". She spends her day running interference between Little Cricket and Wise Cricket. Sometimes Wise Cricket wants to tell her little counterpart all the gory details of the past..wants to pass on the wisdom she's come to acquire after the years of abuse...and it's Manager's job to keep that from happening.
My therapist is trying to help me to change Manager's way of thinking. To let her know that it's safe to pass on Wise Cricket's knowledge...so Little Cricket can heal.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Recovery
Had to give myself a few days to recover from therapy last week. It was a really difficult session and I'm not entirely sure how I got through it intact. I've felt like someone/something is holding my shoulders down ever since...and whether that's just in my imagination, or whether it's my body remembering stuff, it's disconcerting and I'm not quite sure what to make of it. My therapist told me that it's possible that it isn't 'safe' to heal that yet...that my subconscious mind won't allow it...well, WTF.
Today my daughter and I are traveling out to see my natural mom for the day...can't wait...it's been awhile and I need some time with her. Desperately. I just feel drained...and in some way, seeing her, being in the same room as her, recharges my life battery.
Today my daughter and I are traveling out to see my natural mom for the day...can't wait...it's been awhile and I need some time with her. Desperately. I just feel drained...and in some way, seeing her, being in the same room as her, recharges my life battery.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Found
You asked for it...lol..I've linked to my personal not-so-much-about-adoption-blog so you can read about the beginnings of my reunion with my natural family.
Enjoy...and feel free to poke around that site too.
Enjoy...and feel free to poke around that site too.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Adoption Carnival Three
I'm again participating in Grown In My Heart's blog carnival..Photos of Adoption. Join in and make sure you utilize Mr. Linky at the site to add yourself into the mix.
I debated about posting pictures of the day that I was taken from the adoption agency...but those photos now symbolize pain and anguish.
Instead, I decided to post a couple of pictures of my natural mom, sister and me at our first face to face meeting on August 20, 2009. A mere 39 days after our first contact. That day was one of the best days of my life and holds a lot of meaning for me. It was a rebirth of sorts..like the planets in my life had finally aligned.
I may post the story of our beginnings here on this blog....if there's the interest. I sometimes fear that I might get boring droning on and on about my reunion. Thoughts?
I debated about posting pictures of the day that I was taken from the adoption agency...but those photos now symbolize pain and anguish.
Instead, I decided to post a couple of pictures of my natural mom, sister and me at our first face to face meeting on August 20, 2009. A mere 39 days after our first contact. That day was one of the best days of my life and holds a lot of meaning for me. It was a rebirth of sorts..like the planets in my life had finally aligned.
I may post the story of our beginnings here on this blog....if there's the interest. I sometimes fear that I might get boring droning on and on about my reunion. Thoughts?
Monday, October 26, 2009
In Absentia
I've been absent from this blog for a few days...and I've been missing it. But life as I know it has changed and I've had to figure out my next steps. And it's scary.
I'll take 'Jobs That Are Being Shipped Overseas' for a thousand Alex...
What is MINE?
Yup. I'm a contractor...hired with 10 other people to call up companies and collect on their bills that are less than $250K. The actual collectors that work for the company I'm contracted for are safe. They get to keep their jobs. And we, the contractors, get the pleasure of training our offshore counterparts when they arrive in January. Then, once they are trained, we'll be 'released'.
I'm in a better position than some on the team though. I've actually worked hard to get to the top and to get noticed by the management. Two weeks ago I was handpicked to move over to the actual collectors side to cover for someone who's out on maternity leave. And as the Head Honcho told me when he called me into his office the morning after the announcement was made, historically the ones that have been asked to fill in on that side have been hired. So, I may live to call another customer and tell them to pay their bill.
Everyone say a silent prayer for me, please?
I'll take 'Jobs That Are Being Shipped Overseas' for a thousand Alex...
What is MINE?
Yup. I'm a contractor...hired with 10 other people to call up companies and collect on their bills that are less than $250K. The actual collectors that work for the company I'm contracted for are safe. They get to keep their jobs. And we, the contractors, get the pleasure of training our offshore counterparts when they arrive in January. Then, once they are trained, we'll be 'released'.
I'm in a better position than some on the team though. I've actually worked hard to get to the top and to get noticed by the management. Two weeks ago I was handpicked to move over to the actual collectors side to cover for someone who's out on maternity leave. And as the Head Honcho told me when he called me into his office the morning after the announcement was made, historically the ones that have been asked to fill in on that side have been hired. So, I may live to call another customer and tell them to pay their bill.
Everyone say a silent prayer for me, please?
Monday, October 19, 2009
Quote
“In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future.” — Alex Haley
The above quote, found while surfing around Grown In My Heart, really touched me tonight. Because for me, as an adoptee in reunion (it's still weird to say that), I immediately thought of my natural family. They really are the link to my past...and now, as I slowly make my way towards recapturing my place on the family tree, they are the bridge to my future.
Yes, I have my adoptive family. My asister is my best friend...we're like soldiers who have made it through a hard tour of duty...and survived. My amother, while she completely and totally sucked when I was growing up, has slowly realized that she can't push my buttons anymore because I refuse to let her...and that's brought us to an uneasy truce. I love her. I'd be lying if I said I didn't...but can I say that I like her? No. She brings out my worst fears as a mother. I don't EVER want to be the mom that she was. My children deserve more than that. And my afather...he taught me to avoid relationships where the male is the dominant figure...that abuse is NEVER okay...and that I deserve better.
With my natural mother and family, there were no expectations. On either side. When I went down to Delaware in March to celebrate my ngrandfather's 80th birthday, it was the first time I was meeting most of the family in person. And what struck me most was that their claims of loving me all these years were the truth. I WAS thought of...I WAS celebrated...and it really DID feel like I'd just been away at college for a few years. Our reunion was THAT easy...and has given me more peace than I've ever experienced.
I have a tree. And the loving branches of that tree have shaded me from the storm, even when I was scared and alone.
The above quote, found while surfing around Grown In My Heart, really touched me tonight. Because for me, as an adoptee in reunion (it's still weird to say that), I immediately thought of my natural family. They really are the link to my past...and now, as I slowly make my way towards recapturing my place on the family tree, they are the bridge to my future.
Yes, I have my adoptive family. My asister is my best friend...we're like soldiers who have made it through a hard tour of duty...and survived. My amother, while she completely and totally sucked when I was growing up, has slowly realized that she can't push my buttons anymore because I refuse to let her...and that's brought us to an uneasy truce. I love her. I'd be lying if I said I didn't...but can I say that I like her? No. She brings out my worst fears as a mother. I don't EVER want to be the mom that she was. My children deserve more than that. And my afather...he taught me to avoid relationships where the male is the dominant figure...that abuse is NEVER okay...and that I deserve better.
With my natural mother and family, there were no expectations. On either side. When I went down to Delaware in March to celebrate my ngrandfather's 80th birthday, it was the first time I was meeting most of the family in person. And what struck me most was that their claims of loving me all these years were the truth. I WAS thought of...I WAS celebrated...and it really DID feel like I'd just been away at college for a few years. Our reunion was THAT easy...and has given me more peace than I've ever experienced.
I have a tree. And the loving branches of that tree have shaded me from the storm, even when I was scared and alone.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Who Cares...
about ME? I know this post is going to sound selfish...but maybe I need to be a bit selfish as I work through my issues and limitations. Bear with me as I might just vent a bit, or even *gasp* swear.
I love my best friend...really...with all my heart, I love her. She's funny, quirky, free spirited and beautiful, inside and out. She's also had a really hard life. And she's severely depressed. To the point of threatening to not take care of the fibroid she has because she WANTS it to turn to cancer so she can just end it all. Now, I know that you all aren't privy to her life's problems...but I am. And I know what she's been through and how much she's struggled. Trust me, she's really had it rough.
Tonight she texted me and sounded really down. Really down. And I had to use all my charm and wit to bring her back to at least throwing in an "LOL" once in awhile. What gets me is that not once did she ask how I'm doing in therapy...not once did she ask how I'm handling MY crap. Because it always seems like whenever we talk, there just isn't enough time to deal with both of our stuff. And I usually just push my emotions aside to help her.
That's how I've always been. I'm a People Pleaser. That's been my role ever since childhood...it was better to just scuttle around anticipating what needed to be done, rather than waiting to be yelled at. Sometimes I was able to head the screaming off at the pass, but more often than not, it didn't matter how hard I tried, I'd just fail. I wouldn't pass Go and I certainly would not collect $200.
Most of my friendships are like the one I have with my best friend...as have most of the boyfriend/girlfriend relationships I've had. I try so hard to be the 'good friend' or the 'good girlfriend' that I just stuff all my feelings aside...and end up being resentful. It freaking sucks. But I don't want to lose my friends...of course I don't. I just want to feel validated once in awhile. Is that too much to ask??
Sometimes I really have to wonder.
By the way...I'd like to share a blog post that my friend had passed on to me. I'm interested to hear what my fellow adoptees have to say...and also what the AP's who read this think...even if you don't want to comment on my blog, please just read it.
Here you go...
I'll try and blog about my feelings surrounding the post tomorrow or Sunday...
I love my best friend...really...with all my heart, I love her. She's funny, quirky, free spirited and beautiful, inside and out. She's also had a really hard life. And she's severely depressed. To the point of threatening to not take care of the fibroid she has because she WANTS it to turn to cancer so she can just end it all. Now, I know that you all aren't privy to her life's problems...but I am. And I know what she's been through and how much she's struggled. Trust me, she's really had it rough.
Tonight she texted me and sounded really down. Really down. And I had to use all my charm and wit to bring her back to at least throwing in an "LOL" once in awhile. What gets me is that not once did she ask how I'm doing in therapy...not once did she ask how I'm handling MY crap. Because it always seems like whenever we talk, there just isn't enough time to deal with both of our stuff. And I usually just push my emotions aside to help her.
That's how I've always been. I'm a People Pleaser. That's been my role ever since childhood...it was better to just scuttle around anticipating what needed to be done, rather than waiting to be yelled at. Sometimes I was able to head the screaming off at the pass, but more often than not, it didn't matter how hard I tried, I'd just fail. I wouldn't pass Go and I certainly would not collect $200.
Most of my friendships are like the one I have with my best friend...as have most of the boyfriend/girlfriend relationships I've had. I try so hard to be the 'good friend' or the 'good girlfriend' that I just stuff all my feelings aside...and end up being resentful. It freaking sucks. But I don't want to lose my friends...of course I don't. I just want to feel validated once in awhile. Is that too much to ask??
Sometimes I really have to wonder.
By the way...I'd like to share a blog post that my friend had passed on to me. I'm interested to hear what my fellow adoptees have to say...and also what the AP's who read this think...even if you don't want to comment on my blog, please just read it.
Here you go...
I'll try and blog about my feelings surrounding the post tomorrow or Sunday...
Thursday, October 15, 2009
My Happy Place
Therapy last night...and because I'm just overwhelmed in general right now she walked me through some guided imagery...and helped me find my "happy place".
My happy place is at a river, atop a very large boulder that is nestled in the middle of that river. The top of the rock is very flat, and big enough for me to create a safe, pleasant, peaceful atmosphere..surrounded by all of my favorite things.
The water soars by the rock, and I can see a bend in the river which carries the water away from my awareness and consciousness. I lay in the sun, just soaking up the good feelings, focused on my breathing.
When I am quiet and at peace, I take all the worries and anxiousness of the day and of my life and throw them gently into the river...letting them all go, taking note of the color that the water turns as the stress hits it. I return my attention to the rock for a few minutes, sinking into the peace and bliss.
I check the color of the water again, for me, the stress and overwhelming despair colored the water black..and would get progressively lighter the longer we went on.
I honestly hope I can recapture that feeling when I try and bring myself back to that place...it was beautiful there.
My happy place is at a river, atop a very large boulder that is nestled in the middle of that river. The top of the rock is very flat, and big enough for me to create a safe, pleasant, peaceful atmosphere..surrounded by all of my favorite things.
The water soars by the rock, and I can see a bend in the river which carries the water away from my awareness and consciousness. I lay in the sun, just soaking up the good feelings, focused on my breathing.
When I am quiet and at peace, I take all the worries and anxiousness of the day and of my life and throw them gently into the river...letting them all go, taking note of the color that the water turns as the stress hits it. I return my attention to the rock for a few minutes, sinking into the peace and bliss.
I check the color of the water again, for me, the stress and overwhelming despair colored the water black..and would get progressively lighter the longer we went on.
I honestly hope I can recapture that feeling when I try and bring myself back to that place...it was beautiful there.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Adoption Carnival Two
I'm again participating in the second Adoption Carnival, over at Grown In My Heart.
Join in, but make sure you leave your link here to the rest of the carnival-ers.
Tell us about names this month…How did you name your children? Did they come to you with names? Did you change them? Did your parents change your name? Do you not feel connected to your name?
Basically, what is in a name?
"We called you Princess…"
For two whole weeks after I was adopted, I didn't have a name. I was just called Princess. If you've read any of the rest of this blog, you'll realize how ironic that name really is. I was most definitely NOT treated like a princess…more like Cinderella.
My aparents didn't even know how close they were on the waiting list to obtaining a child until they got the call that they needed to come to the agency that afternoon. There was no crib set up, no clothes hanging in the closet, no stuffed animals waiting to be hugged, no diapers…nothing. They called neighbors to help get things organized and bought while they were out picking me up…but did wait long enough to be given an outfit to bring me home in.
When we got back to the house, the neighbors had painted a sign for the front lawn.
"Welcome Home Baby W…….. # 2"
Even then I was designated as second best…and it was a role that I excelled in. My sister was the smarter one…she rarely got anything less than a "B+" in school, while I struggled to achieve mostly B's and a few A's sprinkled in for good measure. She didn't need to practice the piano and understood theory better than me…probably why I quit when she stopped taking lessons. She was on the Honor Society in high school and I didn't even get one of the alternate spots. Always # 2. Always in the background.
When they did name me, it wasn't because the name "Christina" had any particular meaning attached to it, but because it went well with my sister's name (Cynthia).
I've never felt attached to my name. Never felt like it fit me. When I was younger, I'd often wonder what my "real" name would have been if I hadn't been adopted..especially during my darkest hours. My sister's name, come to find out, would have been Cynthia either way. Her natural mother had chosen the same name that my aparents did. The only difference was the middle name. Jean was what her nmother picked out, and Louise was what my aparents did. And even then, Louise is my amother's middle name, as well as my agreatgrandmother's middle name. My middle name, Lynn, was pretty much just picked out of a hat.
Now though, I know my "real" name. I know who I would have been had I stayed with my mother. And while my nmother says that she loves my given name, that it suits me better…I secretly wish I could change it…to Elena Katherine.
The only bright spot to this story? My aparents may have picked my name out of the air because it sounded nice…Christina Lynn…what they didn't know…is that my nmother's name is Christine Lee.
Join in, but make sure you leave your link here to the rest of the carnival-ers.
Tell us about names this month…How did you name your children? Did they come to you with names? Did you change them? Did your parents change your name? Do you not feel connected to your name?
Basically, what is in a name?
"We called you Princess…"
For two whole weeks after I was adopted, I didn't have a name. I was just called Princess. If you've read any of the rest of this blog, you'll realize how ironic that name really is. I was most definitely NOT treated like a princess…more like Cinderella.
My aparents didn't even know how close they were on the waiting list to obtaining a child until they got the call that they needed to come to the agency that afternoon. There was no crib set up, no clothes hanging in the closet, no stuffed animals waiting to be hugged, no diapers…nothing. They called neighbors to help get things organized and bought while they were out picking me up…but did wait long enough to be given an outfit to bring me home in.
When we got back to the house, the neighbors had painted a sign for the front lawn.
"Welcome Home Baby W…….. # 2"
Even then I was designated as second best…and it was a role that I excelled in. My sister was the smarter one…she rarely got anything less than a "B+" in school, while I struggled to achieve mostly B's and a few A's sprinkled in for good measure. She didn't need to practice the piano and understood theory better than me…probably why I quit when she stopped taking lessons. She was on the Honor Society in high school and I didn't even get one of the alternate spots. Always # 2. Always in the background.
When they did name me, it wasn't because the name "Christina" had any particular meaning attached to it, but because it went well with my sister's name (Cynthia).
I've never felt attached to my name. Never felt like it fit me. When I was younger, I'd often wonder what my "real" name would have been if I hadn't been adopted..especially during my darkest hours. My sister's name, come to find out, would have been Cynthia either way. Her natural mother had chosen the same name that my aparents did. The only difference was the middle name. Jean was what her nmother picked out, and Louise was what my aparents did. And even then, Louise is my amother's middle name, as well as my agreatgrandmother's middle name. My middle name, Lynn, was pretty much just picked out of a hat.
Now though, I know my "real" name. I know who I would have been had I stayed with my mother. And while my nmother says that she loves my given name, that it suits me better…I secretly wish I could change it…to Elena Katherine.
The only bright spot to this story? My aparents may have picked my name out of the air because it sounded nice…Christina Lynn…what they didn't know…is that my nmother's name is Christine Lee.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Jeez
My stomach is all tied up in knots. I hate therapy days. I'm anxious, nervous, panicky…and it's stupid because I've been going now for what, a month??? Sheesh…you'd think I'd get into the swing of things by now. And the crap part of it is that tomorrow I know I'll be anxious, nervous and panicky because it's over and I have to wait another week to go back. Gah!
And I'm feeling sad today for my asister, brother in law and my two nephews. Yesterday my sister and brother in law were having coffee in their breakfast nook/den area and their dog, Celia, was laying on the couch across the room. When it was time to get up and get ready to start the day, my sister went over to wake up Celia. She called her name a few times then rested her hand on Celia's back. She'd been gone for a little while…was a little cold to the touch. They immediately got the boys (they're eight and five) and brought them in to say goodbye.
They left her laying there while they all got dressed and at one point, my sister walked by the den and saw a piece of cheese on the couch next to her. My nephew had placed it there because, "Cheese was her favorite treat Mommy…". Breaks my heart.
And I'm feeling sad today for my asister, brother in law and my two nephews. Yesterday my sister and brother in law were having coffee in their breakfast nook/den area and their dog, Celia, was laying on the couch across the room. When it was time to get up and get ready to start the day, my sister went over to wake up Celia. She called her name a few times then rested her hand on Celia's back. She'd been gone for a little while…was a little cold to the touch. They immediately got the boys (they're eight and five) and brought them in to say goodbye.
They left her laying there while they all got dressed and at one point, my sister walked by the den and saw a piece of cheese on the couch next to her. My nephew had placed it there because, "Cheese was her favorite treat Mommy…". Breaks my heart.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Out of Sorts
Been feeling out of it for a few days. Just a general sense of "blah". I just can't seem to pull myself out of this funk..and it's really not anything specific that I can put my finger on that's causing me this angst.
I got a text message from one of my friends last night that I told her I hadn't gotten til this morning, thus the reason I hadn't responded..but the truth was, I'd started crying after I read it and couldn’t text back. She knows the whole story…she's read this blog.
Thx 4 being my friend!
I love you..things will get better 4 u, I promise :)
In my head, I know that eventually things WILL get better…but right now, in the middle of it, my heart is broken for the little girl I once was and it's hard to tell HER that it will get better.
I think I might have to take a break from commenting on other's blogs…or posts on forums. I just don't feel like it's healthy right now for me to get upset at perfect strangers for doing what they feel best for themselves….regardless of how sad it makes me for the adoptees who might one day end up like me. Waiting eagerly for the next email from my natural mom…waiting for the phone call from my sister…and then hearing about how they (nmom, nsis and nbrother) all hung out the other day. And while I recognize that it's easy for them to all get together since they live in the same general area, it still hurts my heart that I still feel like I don't fit in.
Where do I belong?
The other day in therapy, I used the following analogy to describe how I'm feeling about my reunion. It's like I'm standing on the ground and all of a sudden this huge crack opened up in the earth beneath my feet. One foot is on the side with my adoptive family..and the other is on the side with my natural family. I feel like I have to make a choice on which side to jump to and my "grateful" adoptee side is saying, "Adoptive side! Adoptive side!" but the "fuck you for destroying my self-esteem" adoptee side is saying, "Natural side! Natural side!".
Maybe I don't have to make the choice…but sometimes I think it'd be easier if I did.
I got a text message from one of my friends last night that I told her I hadn't gotten til this morning, thus the reason I hadn't responded..but the truth was, I'd started crying after I read it and couldn’t text back. She knows the whole story…she's read this blog.
Thx 4 being my friend!
I love you..things will get better 4 u, I promise :)
In my head, I know that eventually things WILL get better…but right now, in the middle of it, my heart is broken for the little girl I once was and it's hard to tell HER that it will get better.
I think I might have to take a break from commenting on other's blogs…or posts on forums. I just don't feel like it's healthy right now for me to get upset at perfect strangers for doing what they feel best for themselves….regardless of how sad it makes me for the adoptees who might one day end up like me. Waiting eagerly for the next email from my natural mom…waiting for the phone call from my sister…and then hearing about how they (nmom, nsis and nbrother) all hung out the other day. And while I recognize that it's easy for them to all get together since they live in the same general area, it still hurts my heart that I still feel like I don't fit in.
Where do I belong?
The other day in therapy, I used the following analogy to describe how I'm feeling about my reunion. It's like I'm standing on the ground and all of a sudden this huge crack opened up in the earth beneath my feet. One foot is on the side with my adoptive family..and the other is on the side with my natural family. I feel like I have to make a choice on which side to jump to and my "grateful" adoptee side is saying, "Adoptive side! Adoptive side!" but the "fuck you for destroying my self-esteem" adoptee side is saying, "Natural side! Natural side!".
Maybe I don't have to make the choice…but sometimes I think it'd be easier if I did.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Antsy
I was supposed to have a dentist appointment tomorrow...and so I'd had my therapy pushed off til Wednesday. But I had to cancel the dentist due to a lack of funds (stupid job with no dental insurance) until my next paycheck. Now I'm feeling anxious because I'm not going to see my counselor for another few days and I've been having panic attacks all week.
Had to pick up my son from his stepmother this afternoon...and that just added to my anxiousness...she just makes me feel like she's just stepped in dogshit when she sees me..and while maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt (after all, she really could have just stepped in dog shit before she saw me today) I have a feeling that she's just angry that she has to have any contact with me at all. Sigh. I can only control my reaction to her...not her reaction to me.
I just have to hang on til Wednesday...I can do that. Really...I can.
Had to pick up my son from his stepmother this afternoon...and that just added to my anxiousness...she just makes me feel like she's just stepped in dogshit when she sees me..and while maybe I should give her the benefit of the doubt (after all, she really could have just stepped in dog shit before she saw me today) I have a feeling that she's just angry that she has to have any contact with me at all. Sigh. I can only control my reaction to her...not her reaction to me.
I just have to hang on til Wednesday...I can do that. Really...I can.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Self-Righteous Ninny
Remember how I said I had commented on an article yesterday? Well, I couldn't help myself today. I wish I HAD helped myself remember that I'm a better person than some of the other commenters and kept my damn mouth shut. This is what I found when I went there today.
LoveBrown said: ElenaKatherine, my dear, go to church. God will assist. Maybe you should bring your children with you. You may even want to look into some professional therapy. I prayed for you last night, and will continue to do so. I can see from your creative use of text messaging (aka: KTHXBYE) that you are young. You are also unmarried and filled with resentment. I am so sorry for your life's circumstances. I can see why you may be somewhat jealous of this writer...married, Godly, gorgeous, and presumably wealthy. I hope you decide to go to church to rid yourself of these evil emotions that so easily overcome you. Jealousy, resentment, hate, self-righteousness, these are all of the devil and you need to be healed, my dear. God is with you.
Annnnnd..this was my response..
You're just chock full of presumptions, aren't you sweetheart? Bless your cold, cold heart. I am 35 years old, work in a highly professional environment and take exemplary care of my children. Whether I'm married or not has nothing to do with it...I have been in a long term relationship for many years and it doesn't take a ring on my finger to prove that I am worthy of love. I'm most definitely NOT jealous of the writer. I'm very glad that I'm NOT her in fact because I wouldn't want to be her in several years when her yet-to-be adopted child starts questioning the loss he/she feels and she remembers the adult adoptees who tried to warn her of the feelings the child will have.
I am worthy of my God's love..and yes, I do attend church, as do my children. At a church that my sister is the minister of. So, remember what they say when you assume...
The only life's circumstances you need be sorry about are the facts that I grew up without my real parents...that millions of adoptees do not have access to their original birth certificates...and that millions of adoptees do not have access to their own medical history and family genealogy.
And before you begin calling me, or any of the adoptees who have spoken out against this article and others like it, self-righteous take a look in the mirror and realize that you're the pot calling the kettle black.
And people wonder why we adoptees are angry??
LoveBrown said: ElenaKatherine, my dear, go to church. God will assist. Maybe you should bring your children with you. You may even want to look into some professional therapy. I prayed for you last night, and will continue to do so. I can see from your creative use of text messaging (aka: KTHXBYE) that you are young. You are also unmarried and filled with resentment. I am so sorry for your life's circumstances. I can see why you may be somewhat jealous of this writer...married, Godly, gorgeous, and presumably wealthy. I hope you decide to go to church to rid yourself of these evil emotions that so easily overcome you. Jealousy, resentment, hate, self-righteousness, these are all of the devil and you need to be healed, my dear. God is with you.
Annnnnd..this was my response..
You're just chock full of presumptions, aren't you sweetheart? Bless your cold, cold heart. I am 35 years old, work in a highly professional environment and take exemplary care of my children. Whether I'm married or not has nothing to do with it...I have been in a long term relationship for many years and it doesn't take a ring on my finger to prove that I am worthy of love. I'm most definitely NOT jealous of the writer. I'm very glad that I'm NOT her in fact because I wouldn't want to be her in several years when her yet-to-be adopted child starts questioning the loss he/she feels and she remembers the adult adoptees who tried to warn her of the feelings the child will have.
I am worthy of my God's love..and yes, I do attend church, as do my children. At a church that my sister is the minister of. So, remember what they say when you assume...
The only life's circumstances you need be sorry about are the facts that I grew up without my real parents...that millions of adoptees do not have access to their original birth certificates...and that millions of adoptees do not have access to their own medical history and family genealogy.
And before you begin calling me, or any of the adoptees who have spoken out against this article and others like it, self-righteous take a look in the mirror and realize that you're the pot calling the kettle black.
And people wonder why we adoptees are angry??
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Aftermath
After therapy, it takes me a few days to recover emotionally from dealing with the feelings and pain that reliving the trauma inevitably dredges up. And instead of listening to my body and laying low, I ended up here..trying to defend my feelings to those who are seek to change my opinion of adoption. Because, after all, they know better than I do, right?
I'm only the adoptee. Only the one whose life was fucked up by the signing of a fake birth certificate and an erased medical history. The entitlement that oozes from the pores of the PAP's and AP's and even a wife of an adoptee just burns my ass...and makes me wonder what the point is anymore. They'll NEVER understand that by adopting children, they are just perpetuating the adoptees' trauma.
I'm sure that every adoptee who understands the pain that I feel has heard the good ol' phrase "I know some people who are adopted and they couldn't be happier! Get over it or get into therapy..." Really?? Or is that they are afraid to voice their true emotions because of the "angry bastard" stigma that they might be labeled with..
Therapy is helping me find my voice...and I refuse to be silent.
I wear the "angry bastard" badge proudly...because it proves to me that I CAN think for myself...I CAN form my own opinions about things..and whether I am validated by a PAP or an AP or the wife of an adoptee (gag) or not...that's okay because I am learning how to validate myself.
I'm only the adoptee. Only the one whose life was fucked up by the signing of a fake birth certificate and an erased medical history. The entitlement that oozes from the pores of the PAP's and AP's and even a wife of an adoptee just burns my ass...and makes me wonder what the point is anymore. They'll NEVER understand that by adopting children, they are just perpetuating the adoptees' trauma.
I'm sure that every adoptee who understands the pain that I feel has heard the good ol' phrase "I know some people who are adopted and they couldn't be happier! Get over it or get into therapy..." Really?? Or is that they are afraid to voice their true emotions because of the "angry bastard" stigma that they might be labeled with..
Therapy is helping me find my voice...and I refuse to be silent.
I wear the "angry bastard" badge proudly...because it proves to me that I CAN think for myself...I CAN form my own opinions about things..and whether I am validated by a PAP or an AP or the wife of an adoptee (gag) or not...that's okay because I am learning how to validate myself.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I Longed
In the last waning moments of the work day...in an effort to calm my nerves...I post this.
I longed for your arms to hold me...
when the world was crumbling.
I longed for your words to comfort me...
when anger was hurled my way.
I longed for your face...
so I could finally see my own.
I longed for your voice..
so I could hear you breathe.
I longed for you..
so I could know love.
I longed for your arms to hold me...
when the world was crumbling.
I longed for your words to comfort me...
when anger was hurled my way.
I longed for your face...
so I could finally see my own.
I longed for your voice..
so I could hear you breathe.
I longed for you..
so I could know love.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Just Have To Say Something
It appears to be a very distinct possibility that my ex's wife is reading this blog. I thought that I'd taken precautions to avoid this from happening, but apparently, the precautions weren't good enough.
And so, if she is here…this is for you. Please understand that what I am blogging about is extremely difficult and painful and all I'd ask is that you email me if you want clarification on anything I've written…past, present or future posts included. I've left you and your family alone and would ask that you do the same for me now. I realize that in the past, we've BOTH mentioned each other on our respective blogs, however this one is not for you…and is not about you…nor will it ever be. I have a lot that I am dealing with in my personal life and want to keep this blog open for my adoptee friends and the adoptive parents that might want to learn from what I have to say. Please respect that. That's all I ask.
~Cricket
And so, if she is here…this is for you. Please understand that what I am blogging about is extremely difficult and painful and all I'd ask is that you email me if you want clarification on anything I've written…past, present or future posts included. I've left you and your family alone and would ask that you do the same for me now. I realize that in the past, we've BOTH mentioned each other on our respective blogs, however this one is not for you…and is not about you…nor will it ever be. I have a lot that I am dealing with in my personal life and want to keep this blog open for my adoptee friends and the adoptive parents that might want to learn from what I have to say. Please respect that. That's all I ask.
~Cricket
Uncomfortable
Spent the weekend doing family stuff...the local mountain sponsored KidsFest (tons of freebies, raffles, bouncy houses, dancers, singers, skyride on the ski chairlifts, food, food and more food!!) on Saturday and then yesterday I went with the kids and my amother to our old hometown and watched their 250th anniversary parade. And as I sat there, in the rain, watching the parade, I got a little choked up. Because I felt like a fraud.
I sat under the tents that my uncle's brother-in-law had set up outside of his gas/service station on Main Street. I chatted with my aunts...ate delicious chili and steamed hot dogs and ribs...broke up no less than five fights between my kids...drank homemade hot apple cider...picked up my sensitive son when the fire engine sirens (and the horns honked and the cannons blasted) started to wail during the parade. And yet...sitting there watching the floats go by, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Because as much as my hometown is a part of my life..and the stories of what the 200th parade was like with my mom, uncles and grandfather all participating...I always wonder what memories I'd have had of my nmom's hometown had I had the chance to experience that. I know that it's not good to dwell on the "What ifs"...but it's my life and rather than stuff the feelings of loss down like usual, I'm welcoming them.
One step closer to healing...
Therapy tonight...we're going to work on the stuttering shit. I'm not looking forward to it.
I sat under the tents that my uncle's brother-in-law had set up outside of his gas/service station on Main Street. I chatted with my aunts...ate delicious chili and steamed hot dogs and ribs...broke up no less than five fights between my kids...drank homemade hot apple cider...picked up my sensitive son when the fire engine sirens (and the horns honked and the cannons blasted) started to wail during the parade. And yet...sitting there watching the floats go by, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Because as much as my hometown is a part of my life..and the stories of what the 200th parade was like with my mom, uncles and grandfather all participating...I always wonder what memories I'd have had of my nmom's hometown had I had the chance to experience that. I know that it's not good to dwell on the "What ifs"...but it's my life and rather than stuff the feelings of loss down like usual, I'm welcoming them.
One step closer to healing...
Therapy tonight...we're going to work on the stuttering shit. I'm not looking forward to it.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I'm Tired
I'm tired of being told that I need to get help for my anger towards my adoptive parents and realize instead that adoption is wonderful and such a gift and saves children who would otherwise be on the street.
Adoption is NOT a gift if you are on the other side of the Triad. You lose part of yourself by simply existing. Infertility should not be a reason to adopt...sorry to all of those who cannot have children...I am genuinely sorry for the loss you must feel, but what about the loss of the adoptee?? Your loss is solved by adoption. Our loss is CAUSED by adoption.
I am not naive enough to think that adoption will ever be wiped out of society. I know that there are certain circumstances in which the biological family cannot or perhaps more often, will not, care for the child. In those instances, the child should be placed in foster care and then placed for adoption once it's established that no biological relative will take them in. Family preservation should be the norm, not the exception.
I'm tired of having my story invalidated or negated simply by the words "Sorry your life was f*cked up, but that won't happen to MY child". Really?? Now you are the ones being naive. I'm not suggesting that every adoptee will feel the same way about things...not every adoptee will come out of the fog that they are surrounded by. And that's okay...what is NOT okay though is to assume that it won't happen. That one day the child that grew up in your home will come home and question their existence. It could happen. And my only prayer is that there are AP's out there who will question that right along side of the adoptee.
Adoption is NOT a gift if you are on the other side of the Triad. You lose part of yourself by simply existing. Infertility should not be a reason to adopt...sorry to all of those who cannot have children...I am genuinely sorry for the loss you must feel, but what about the loss of the adoptee?? Your loss is solved by adoption. Our loss is CAUSED by adoption.
I am not naive enough to think that adoption will ever be wiped out of society. I know that there are certain circumstances in which the biological family cannot or perhaps more often, will not, care for the child. In those instances, the child should be placed in foster care and then placed for adoption once it's established that no biological relative will take them in. Family preservation should be the norm, not the exception.
I'm tired of having my story invalidated or negated simply by the words "Sorry your life was f*cked up, but that won't happen to MY child". Really?? Now you are the ones being naive. I'm not suggesting that every adoptee will feel the same way about things...not every adoptee will come out of the fog that they are surrounded by. And that's okay...what is NOT okay though is to assume that it won't happen. That one day the child that grew up in your home will come home and question their existence. It could happen. And my only prayer is that there are AP's out there who will question that right along side of the adoptee.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Layers of Sad
I was an ugly kid. No, really. That's not just my imagination, and anyone who says differently after seeing the pictures *shudder* is a liar. Wrong hair, wrong clothes, wrong glasses...wrong, wrong, wrong.
Because of my low self esteem, the other night in therapy, we did some EFT work surrounding one particular situation that happened in seventh grade. I share it with you now so that maybe you'll understand why it is I'm so f*cked up.
We had some sort of English project that we were working on...can't for the life of me remember what the project was...and we had to bring stuffed animals into class that day. I don't know what I brought in, but I do remember what one of my classmates did. He was sitting across the aisle from me and had one of those 'Wrinkle' puppies on his desk. He decided it'd be a great idea to take the stuffed bone that was in the puppy's mouth and throw it on my desk.
"Here you go Doggy. You look hungry."
I didn't say a word. Not one word. Just felt my face get beet red as the rest of the class giggled.
We worked on that memory for awhile and at the end, I was feeling okay about it. When I thought of the bone, I could no longer feel my chest tightening or my face getting hot.
"How are you feeling now?"
"Sad.."
"Is there something specific you're thinking of?..."
"I just feel like there's all these layers of sad that I have to go through...and it's overwhelming."
"There ARE a lot of 'layers of sad' and sometimes you have to peel all the layers back and work on them one at a time to really heal..."
Sigh.
Because of my low self esteem, the other night in therapy, we did some EFT work surrounding one particular situation that happened in seventh grade. I share it with you now so that maybe you'll understand why it is I'm so f*cked up.
We had some sort of English project that we were working on...can't for the life of me remember what the project was...and we had to bring stuffed animals into class that day. I don't know what I brought in, but I do remember what one of my classmates did. He was sitting across the aisle from me and had one of those 'Wrinkle' puppies on his desk. He decided it'd be a great idea to take the stuffed bone that was in the puppy's mouth and throw it on my desk.
"Here you go Doggy. You look hungry."
I didn't say a word. Not one word. Just felt my face get beet red as the rest of the class giggled.
We worked on that memory for awhile and at the end, I was feeling okay about it. When I thought of the bone, I could no longer feel my chest tightening or my face getting hot.
"How are you feeling now?"
"Sad.."
"Is there something specific you're thinking of?..."
"I just feel like there's all these layers of sad that I have to go through...and it's overwhelming."
"There ARE a lot of 'layers of sad' and sometimes you have to peel all the layers back and work on them one at a time to really heal..."
Sigh.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I Told Her
My nmom that is. I told her about the abuse..and what my childhood was REALLY like. She took it like a trooper and was so supportive. Her biggest shock was that my amother had blown off what she'd been told when I was in therapy before. I am so glad we talked..and that I was able to have a Girls' Night at my nmom's and nsister's house.
Yesterday my sister had a bridal shower to attend, so my mother and I drove to the ocean (lol..literally five minutes from their place) and just sat and talked. About everything. I wish that I'd had her when I was growing up to talk to as a daughter should a mother. Regardless of what she thought back then, I think she would have done a really good job. And I feel the loss now more than ever. I'm about to use a word that I've come to hate, but I am very 'grateful' that I have her now in my life...even if it was 34 years late.
She dropped her own bombshell on me yesterday...but it was actually something I already knew and was just waiting for her to tell me. I can't say what it is...but now that she's told me herself, I'm feeling the shock a little more now than I did before it was confirmed.
I do have another therapy session tonight...looks like we have a lot to talk about.
Yesterday my sister had a bridal shower to attend, so my mother and I drove to the ocean (lol..literally five minutes from their place) and just sat and talked. About everything. I wish that I'd had her when I was growing up to talk to as a daughter should a mother. Regardless of what she thought back then, I think she would have done a really good job. And I feel the loss now more than ever. I'm about to use a word that I've come to hate, but I am very 'grateful' that I have her now in my life...even if it was 34 years late.
She dropped her own bombshell on me yesterday...but it was actually something I already knew and was just waiting for her to tell me. I can't say what it is...but now that she's told me herself, I'm feeling the shock a little more now than I did before it was confirmed.
I do have another therapy session tonight...looks like we have a lot to talk about.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Adoption Carnival One
I decided to join the first Adoption Carnival, hosted by Grown In My Heart because regardless of what anyone may think (adoptees, adoptive parents, natural parents), this is my life. These are my truths.
Before my parents adopted me, I wish they would had known...
not to yell. Especially my mother. She was constantly angry about everything...and nothing. The littlest thing would set her off into a rage and my asister and I would be apologizing profusely even when we didn't remember or know what we'd done wrong. The lectures would last long into the night and only end when my father came home from his second shift job. We'd be hustled off to bed with tears still streaming down our cheeks..."Stop crying!" she'd yell as my father's car turned into the driveway. The tears never stopped..maybe someday they will.
not to be so strict. I know that it's important to know where your kids are...but my parents took it to a whole other level. We were rarely allowed to visit friends, but when we did, we had to call when we got to the friend's house, call while we were there, and call when we were leaving. I didn't get to ride in my friends' cars until I was a senior in high school and even then, it was a battle. I was made to feel like crap for wanting to have fun and get out of the house. I wasn't allowed to date...at all. And when I finally did date, when I was nineteen, my mother told me that I was a slut and that my thoughts should be focused on my future and not on boys.
not to be abusive...physically, emotionally, mentally or sexually. Period. End of story.
not to tell me that sometimes she (my amother) wanted to send me back. This being said usually after she would break a wooden spoon on my backside or slapped me across the face...just hard enough to not leave a bruise.
not to tell me that I was a piece of shit. My afather did that to me once and it destroyed whatever little self esteem I had left.
not to act like perfect parents out in public but then become monsters at home. We'd go to church every Sunday...my parents were very involved within the church community..and then we'd get home and all hell would break loose. I dreaded the weekends.
not to tell me that I should get tested for certain diseases since they run in the family. I'm sorry, I don't share the same genes as you do. In fact, I get to just write down "n/a adopted" on all my medical history forms at the doctor's. Wasn't I lucky??
Before I was adopted, I wish I would have known…
that I had a right to feel lost and abandoned without feeling guilty.
that I don't have to feel grateful for just existing.
Before my parents adopted me, I wish they would had known...
not to yell. Especially my mother. She was constantly angry about everything...and nothing. The littlest thing would set her off into a rage and my asister and I would be apologizing profusely even when we didn't remember or know what we'd done wrong. The lectures would last long into the night and only end when my father came home from his second shift job. We'd be hustled off to bed with tears still streaming down our cheeks..."Stop crying!" she'd yell as my father's car turned into the driveway. The tears never stopped..maybe someday they will.
not to be so strict. I know that it's important to know where your kids are...but my parents took it to a whole other level. We were rarely allowed to visit friends, but when we did, we had to call when we got to the friend's house, call while we were there, and call when we were leaving. I didn't get to ride in my friends' cars until I was a senior in high school and even then, it was a battle. I was made to feel like crap for wanting to have fun and get out of the house. I wasn't allowed to date...at all. And when I finally did date, when I was nineteen, my mother told me that I was a slut and that my thoughts should be focused on my future and not on boys.
not to be abusive...physically, emotionally, mentally or sexually. Period. End of story.
not to tell me that sometimes she (my amother) wanted to send me back. This being said usually after she would break a wooden spoon on my backside or slapped me across the face...just hard enough to not leave a bruise.
not to tell me that I was a piece of shit. My afather did that to me once and it destroyed whatever little self esteem I had left.
not to act like perfect parents out in public but then become monsters at home. We'd go to church every Sunday...my parents were very involved within the church community..and then we'd get home and all hell would break loose. I dreaded the weekends.
not to tell me that I should get tested for certain diseases since they run in the family. I'm sorry, I don't share the same genes as you do. In fact, I get to just write down "n/a adopted" on all my medical history forms at the doctor's. Wasn't I lucky??
Before I was adopted, I wish I would have known…
that I had a right to feel lost and abandoned without feeling guilty.
that I don't have to feel grateful for just existing.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Breathing Deeply
I never like to talk about my demons...really, who does? But I've been doing it...and last night at therapy was a prime example. I'm about to be completely honest here...I have nothing to lose...I had to come clean about the extent of my stuttering.
I don't answer the phone. It goes beyond not wanting to talk to telemarketers...it's more like my body fails me and I can't form the word "Hello". The simplest word and yet, I can't say it. When I say that I can't say the word "Hello", I mean I can't say it when I answer the phone. It feels like my throat tightens and while my mouth might be moving, the sound does not materialize. Sad really. But it's just a quirk that I've dealt with my entire life. Even as a child, I never answered the phone. In fact, I'd pretend not to hear the ringing of the phone to avoid the whole ordeal.
My therapist's feeling is it's the trauma. The trauma of my childhood. The trauma of living with a "selfless, financially and morally stable couple who just wanted to raise children...and with a man who needed to abuse". I'm disgusted that I'm still dealing with this crap in my adult years..but I'm also hopeful. Hopeful that I'll be able to one day not dread the ringing of the phone and to embrace my oddness as being a part of me.
I also apparently have forgotten how to breathe. I was a singer in high school and we were taught to breath through our diaphragms. But once the chorus concerts or musicals were done, I'd forget and go back to my normal chest breathing. The way my therapist explained it to me, I chest breathe because of the whole "fight or flight" instinct I've come to have. Growing up, being scared, I'd hold my breath when things got too crazy of scary. And that caused me to chest breathe. But chest breathing doesn't relax you...only diaphragm breathing does. I've been practicing today...every half hour at my desk, I make myself become conscious of how I'm breathing. One of these days it'll become a habit. A good habit to have for a change.
I don't answer the phone. It goes beyond not wanting to talk to telemarketers...it's more like my body fails me and I can't form the word "Hello". The simplest word and yet, I can't say it. When I say that I can't say the word "Hello", I mean I can't say it when I answer the phone. It feels like my throat tightens and while my mouth might be moving, the sound does not materialize. Sad really. But it's just a quirk that I've dealt with my entire life. Even as a child, I never answered the phone. In fact, I'd pretend not to hear the ringing of the phone to avoid the whole ordeal.
My therapist's feeling is it's the trauma. The trauma of my childhood. The trauma of living with a "selfless, financially and morally stable couple who just wanted to raise children...and with a man who needed to abuse". I'm disgusted that I'm still dealing with this crap in my adult years..but I'm also hopeful. Hopeful that I'll be able to one day not dread the ringing of the phone and to embrace my oddness as being a part of me.
I also apparently have forgotten how to breathe. I was a singer in high school and we were taught to breath through our diaphragms. But once the chorus concerts or musicals were done, I'd forget and go back to my normal chest breathing. The way my therapist explained it to me, I chest breathe because of the whole "fight or flight" instinct I've come to have. Growing up, being scared, I'd hold my breath when things got too crazy of scary. And that caused me to chest breathe. But chest breathing doesn't relax you...only diaphragm breathing does. I've been practicing today...every half hour at my desk, I make myself become conscious of how I'm breathing. One of these days it'll become a habit. A good habit to have for a change.
Jumble-I-Ah
My head is a little busy this morning. Can't seem to settle my thoughts down enough to be able to type about them. I'm definitely jumbled and apparently will need to wait til later to blog about last night's therapy session. It was rough...and it was difficult...but I'm okay.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Tapping Out
Been a difficult weekend. My father's passing was six years ago yesterday and I spend the bulk of my day today at the cemetery planting chrysanthemums at his grave with the kids, my mother and my boyfriend. My feelings this year are not ones of grief though. Suffice to say, I'm going through a lot right now and really, I didn't even want to go to the grave this year..as horrible as that might sound. But I went to make my mother happy...just like I went to the family dinner she wanted to have last night at a restaurant. Sigh. I would have been fine at home with a bowl of macaroni and cheese..but I'm not at the place where I can talk to my mother and sister about what I'm going through.
I'm going back to therapy tomorrow..already. I'm glad though in a way because I know that it's important to keep the momentum going. Did I even tell you how it went at last week's session?? I just looked, and nope...I kept you all in the dark.
My therapist is trying something called EFT therapy with me. It's basically acupuncture, without the needles. There are phrases that are said, while you tap on different points on your body. I know..I was skeptical too..until she had me think of the flashback I had and by the time we'd used the technique several times, my inner reaction to the flashback had changed. I felt..'lighter'. Better than I'd felt in years. I used it again before I went to bed that night and actually slept through the night. Again, I haven't had that happen in years. Maybe it's just a placebo ::shrug:: but even if it is, I'm willing to try anything for some relief from this terrible burden I've been carrying all my life.
I'm going back to therapy tomorrow..already. I'm glad though in a way because I know that it's important to keep the momentum going. Did I even tell you how it went at last week's session?? I just looked, and nope...I kept you all in the dark.
My therapist is trying something called EFT therapy with me. It's basically acupuncture, without the needles. There are phrases that are said, while you tap on different points on your body. I know..I was skeptical too..until she had me think of the flashback I had and by the time we'd used the technique several times, my inner reaction to the flashback had changed. I felt..'lighter'. Better than I'd felt in years. I used it again before I went to bed that night and actually slept through the night. Again, I haven't had that happen in years. Maybe it's just a placebo ::shrug:: but even if it is, I'm willing to try anything for some relief from this terrible burden I've been carrying all my life.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Rambling
So now, not only do I have to go to the cemetery on Saturday to help with planting new flowers for the fall, my a-mother wants my family (boyfriend and kids) and my sister's family (husband and kids) to go out to dinner that night in remembrance of my father. I feel sick to my stomach and wish I could tell her that I don't feel up to it, but I haven't even told her I'm back in therapy. Fuck.
I'm anxious about tonight. I know it's only the second session but I'm really scared about what this is all going to dredge up in my mind and heart. I know that I'm doing the right thing...so, why is it so hard?? Why can't I just open up my mouth and verbally vomit all the things I'm writing here? I get so frustrated with myself...
And to make things worse, I think I hurt one of my dearest friends. He's technically my ex...my very first boyfriend..but we're still in touch. I sent him the link to this blog because he'd seen on my other blog that I had talked about therapy and wanted to make sure I was alright. So, I sent the link...and he got worried that some of the things I'd said about my lousy taste in men pertained to him. Let me just state for the record, especially if he's reading this, that NOTHING I said before, or will say again, about my choices in men have anything to do with the relationship we had. He was actually someone that I wanted to be with for a long time..but my issues got in the way and I was too clingy. I recognize that now...and I recognize WHY I was like that. I didn't want to be abandoned again..and so, I sabotaged myself by thinking that if I was this "perfect" person, he'd never leave. It backfired...and I don't blame him for going...I had a lot of growing up to do..clearly I still do. I'll always cherish his friendship and I apologize to him now for dragging him into this without thinking about his feelings.
Phew.
I'm anxious about tonight. I know it's only the second session but I'm really scared about what this is all going to dredge up in my mind and heart. I know that I'm doing the right thing...so, why is it so hard?? Why can't I just open up my mouth and verbally vomit all the things I'm writing here? I get so frustrated with myself...
And to make things worse, I think I hurt one of my dearest friends. He's technically my ex...my very first boyfriend..but we're still in touch. I sent him the link to this blog because he'd seen on my other blog that I had talked about therapy and wanted to make sure I was alright. So, I sent the link...and he got worried that some of the things I'd said about my lousy taste in men pertained to him. Let me just state for the record, especially if he's reading this, that NOTHING I said before, or will say again, about my choices in men have anything to do with the relationship we had. He was actually someone that I wanted to be with for a long time..but my issues got in the way and I was too clingy. I recognize that now...and I recognize WHY I was like that. I didn't want to be abandoned again..and so, I sabotaged myself by thinking that if I was this "perfect" person, he'd never leave. It backfired...and I don't blame him for going...I had a lot of growing up to do..clearly I still do. I'll always cherish his friendship and I apologize to him now for dragging him into this without thinking about his feelings.
Phew.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Trying To Keep Busy
Work is picking up lately so I haven't allowed myself time to breathe, let alone think. It's good in some ways, but in others..not so much. I just feel really withdrawn and empty right now. I'm functioning, but can feel the old self-loathing emotions battling to be free and it's scaring me.
I don't look in mirrors unless it's absolutely necessary. I'm so disgusted with my weight, and while it'd be easy to start my old habits of purging or starving, I'm trying desperately to avoid that.
My high school years were hell, to say the least. We didn't have a lot of money back then and obviously, clothes weren't high on the list of priorities. I was always wearing hand-me-downs (which would have been fine, had they been from the actual decade I was wearing them in)..and had these hideous plastic glasses from the time I was four years old. My hair was always cut in that ridiculous 'Dorothy Hamil' bowlcut long after it had gone out of style...and I just never fit in.
It sickens me now that I put so much worth in the words of my peers, but as everyone knows, kids can be incredibly cruel once they realize that the person they are bullying is weak. I was weak. And they were cruel. I'd go home and just want to run away. To go live in the woods behind our house because that was the only place I could go where I felt at peace. No one was yelling at me...no one was making fun of the way I looked, or sounded (I stutter when I'm nervous...a lovely after effect of having Reye's Syndrome as an infant..adds to my charm, don't you think?). No one was abusing me when I was in the woods. I was safe.
Next weekend is the sixth anniversary of my father's death. And instead of feeling grief this year...I feel only anger. I don't want to go to the cemetery this year...and play the role of the doting daughter..watching my mother and sister weed the flowers and plant new ones. I don't want to pretend to be sad he's dead because right now...I'm in limbo in regards to my emotions.
WTF.
I don't look in mirrors unless it's absolutely necessary. I'm so disgusted with my weight, and while it'd be easy to start my old habits of purging or starving, I'm trying desperately to avoid that.
My high school years were hell, to say the least. We didn't have a lot of money back then and obviously, clothes weren't high on the list of priorities. I was always wearing hand-me-downs (which would have been fine, had they been from the actual decade I was wearing them in)..and had these hideous plastic glasses from the time I was four years old. My hair was always cut in that ridiculous 'Dorothy Hamil' bowlcut long after it had gone out of style...and I just never fit in.
It sickens me now that I put so much worth in the words of my peers, but as everyone knows, kids can be incredibly cruel once they realize that the person they are bullying is weak. I was weak. And they were cruel. I'd go home and just want to run away. To go live in the woods behind our house because that was the only place I could go where I felt at peace. No one was yelling at me...no one was making fun of the way I looked, or sounded (I stutter when I'm nervous...a lovely after effect of having Reye's Syndrome as an infant..adds to my charm, don't you think?). No one was abusing me when I was in the woods. I was safe.
Next weekend is the sixth anniversary of my father's death. And instead of feeling grief this year...I feel only anger. I don't want to go to the cemetery this year...and play the role of the doting daughter..watching my mother and sister weed the flowers and plant new ones. I don't want to pretend to be sad he's dead because right now...I'm in limbo in regards to my emotions.
WTF.
Friday, September 4, 2009
I Need Silence
Just one hour of silence. I'm so tired and every little sound is ticking me off. Including the sound of my boyfriend's spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl of cereal he's having before bed. I just had to get up and walk out of the room before I exploded.
When I came back after he was done, he asked me what was up and I pulled out the "It's not you..it's me" card and explained about the sound irritating me. Rationally, the sound shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did..just like the sound of him eating popcorn earlier shouldn't have irritated me. But it did. Every sound just seems amplified by one million percent and I just want it to stop.
Or I want to just scream from the sheer stupidity of it all.
Doesn't help that I have to get up at the buttcrack of dawn to drop my son off with my ex either. I'm sleeping horribly...worse than usual...and I know that's just because of everything going on, but it's certainly not helping my mood. It's probably good that the kids are both going to be gone for the holiday weekend..I need an emotional break.
I feel like my skin is crawling..constantly. I don't remember this happening when I was in therapy before. This is different than how I'd feel back then. I'd cry on the ride home and then be okay the next day. Maybe it's because it was only session #1..but I feel like crud today. Desperately angry and sad.
Sheesh.
When I came back after he was done, he asked me what was up and I pulled out the "It's not you..it's me" card and explained about the sound irritating me. Rationally, the sound shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did..just like the sound of him eating popcorn earlier shouldn't have irritated me. But it did. Every sound just seems amplified by one million percent and I just want it to stop.
Or I want to just scream from the sheer stupidity of it all.
Doesn't help that I have to get up at the buttcrack of dawn to drop my son off with my ex either. I'm sleeping horribly...worse than usual...and I know that's just because of everything going on, but it's certainly not helping my mood. It's probably good that the kids are both going to be gone for the holiday weekend..I need an emotional break.
I feel like my skin is crawling..constantly. I don't remember this happening when I was in therapy before. This is different than how I'd feel back then. I'd cry on the ride home and then be okay the next day. Maybe it's because it was only session #1..but I feel like crud today. Desperately angry and sad.
Sheesh.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Migraine-a-licious
The session went well. I'm happy with my therapist and she seems confident that she can help me. I felt like she really understands my pain and the issues that I'm dealing with. Probably better than I understand them.
She suspects that I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because of the trauma I've experienced..and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she was making plans for my recovery. It was heartening..and terrifying all at the same time.
We're going to deal with the incest issues first because of the flashbacks. I haven't had any new ones..just the recurring memory that I blogged about before. It's happening every day now though. Usually I can work through it on my own...and luckily I work pretty independently at my job and can slip away if I need to when I have one at work.
I just want to skip ahead to the good part of the book. The part where I'm healed and happy. I've never read that far ahead in my life.
She suspects that I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because of the trauma I've experienced..and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she was making plans for my recovery. It was heartening..and terrifying all at the same time.
We're going to deal with the incest issues first because of the flashbacks. I haven't had any new ones..just the recurring memory that I blogged about before. It's happening every day now though. Usually I can work through it on my own...and luckily I work pretty independently at my job and can slip away if I need to when I have one at work.
I just want to skip ahead to the good part of the book. The part where I'm healed and happy. I've never read that far ahead in my life.
T Day
T Day = Therapy Day
I'm feeling particularly nauseous and crappy today. I know it'll be worse after I get home tonight from the session..but right now, I just want to call up the therapist and cancel. I know..I know...I can't do that. I have to get better. There's a lot of things I need to get off my chest before my heart will heal.
~ The abuse. How do I get past this pain and hurt? How do I ever forgive him? Can I ever forgive him? And what about my a-mother? Do I have to tell her what's going on and why I'm going back to therapy? She works in a Rape Crisis center for heaven's sake...why didn't she support me more when I was in therapy before? Why did she stick by my father and say I was blowing things out of proportion?
~ The eating disorders. Oh, didn't I mention those? Back in my 20's, and even before that, I was bulimic. More of just a purger than anything. Never binged per se, but I could vomit my food up with the best of them. Then after I left my son's father, I stopped eating due to the depression. Plus, I was saving all my money to put food into the kids' mouths...there wasn't enough left for me. I was existing on a couple fries and the crusts of my daughter's sandwiches. But the stupid part was, I couldn't see the damage I was doing to my body...all I saw was that I was losing weight. And that made me feel like I had control for once.
~ My reunion. I've been blessed for the most part. My natural mother and family have accepted me back into the fold with open arms and loving hearts. Why then am I still lost? Like I'm torn between two families and trying to please everyone. That was my role in my adoptive family..the Pleaser. I rarely talked...just stayed in my room and read my books. Kept out of the way so no one could yell. Of course, they still yelled...but I'd done my best. What's silly is that I KNOW that I don't have to please my natural family...they've proven that they want me to be part of the family, even though I've been somewhere else for the past 34 years. Why is my head so cloudy?
There's more...much more...I have a feeling that the above are only drops in my bucketful of issues. Please think of me tonight at 6pm. I can use all the well wishes I can get right now.
I'm feeling particularly nauseous and crappy today. I know it'll be worse after I get home tonight from the session..but right now, I just want to call up the therapist and cancel. I know..I know...I can't do that. I have to get better. There's a lot of things I need to get off my chest before my heart will heal.
~ The abuse. How do I get past this pain and hurt? How do I ever forgive him? Can I ever forgive him? And what about my a-mother? Do I have to tell her what's going on and why I'm going back to therapy? She works in a Rape Crisis center for heaven's sake...why didn't she support me more when I was in therapy before? Why did she stick by my father and say I was blowing things out of proportion?
~ The eating disorders. Oh, didn't I mention those? Back in my 20's, and even before that, I was bulimic. More of just a purger than anything. Never binged per se, but I could vomit my food up with the best of them. Then after I left my son's father, I stopped eating due to the depression. Plus, I was saving all my money to put food into the kids' mouths...there wasn't enough left for me. I was existing on a couple fries and the crusts of my daughter's sandwiches. But the stupid part was, I couldn't see the damage I was doing to my body...all I saw was that I was losing weight. And that made me feel like I had control for once.
~ My reunion. I've been blessed for the most part. My natural mother and family have accepted me back into the fold with open arms and loving hearts. Why then am I still lost? Like I'm torn between two families and trying to please everyone. That was my role in my adoptive family..the Pleaser. I rarely talked...just stayed in my room and read my books. Kept out of the way so no one could yell. Of course, they still yelled...but I'd done my best. What's silly is that I KNOW that I don't have to please my natural family...they've proven that they want me to be part of the family, even though I've been somewhere else for the past 34 years. Why is my head so cloudy?
There's more...much more...I have a feeling that the above are only drops in my bucketful of issues. Please think of me tonight at 6pm. I can use all the well wishes I can get right now.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Insults and Name Calling
So…yeah. I've been using words that if my children said them, I'd be shocked and dismayed. While I might like to use the terms "shit weasel" and "rat bastard" with my friends, they aren't appropriate for my blog and for that, I'm sorry.
I think I'm just so anxious…nervous…sad…angry..and yes, relieved..about therapy that I allowed my censor button to take a vacation for a few days. I don't agree with Mike's comment..but he's certainly welcome to his opinion, however pretentious it might have been.
I'm pulling on my big girl panties and getting through tomorrow (hopefully without vomiting on myself as I walk into the therapist's office) with my head held high. I'm not ashamed to say that along with the anxiousness, nervousness..etc., I'm actually feeling proud. Proud that I have finally said, "Enough is enough!".
My boyfriend has been tiptoeing around me the past few days…I think he's afraid that I'm going to break or something. This is all new to him and he's not quite sure what to expect. I can tell you that I'm prepared for the tears and the anger…and the migraine that is sure to accompany both of those things.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Going Public
I just took off the password requirement for one of the below posts. I think it's important for everyone to know just how I feel. It's important for ME to know how I'm feeling too.
Would You Have Preferred "Old RatBastard"?
Sorry, couldn't resist. Perhaps I was a bit mean by titling one of my other blog posts "Self Serving Shitweasels" but I make no apologies for what I write here...after all, it's my blog.
I responded to a not-so-nice comment in a nice way. And for that, I'll always be the bigger person. Sorry Mike, but it's true.
Butttttt...even though I responded politely to his comment, I'd like to pick apart that lovely and thought provoking comment here and add my remaining two cents...because that's my right as a blog owner.
Dear Shitweasel.
Clever man...you just twisted my own blog title around on me...good job!! ::dripping with sarcasm::
Sorry you had a shitty life, but don't take it out on unsuspecting adoptive parents.
But are you REALLY sorry Mike, or are you just saying that? And did you just freely admit that you were unsuspecting??
There are far too many kids out there who need a mommy and a daddy for you to come rolling in to take a dump on their parade.
The phrase "take a dump on their parade" just sounds silly and adolescent..surely you could have thought of something a little more powerful..or even just use "shit on" or "fuck with"?? My friends' teenage boys would say something like "dump".
And really, are you really be that defensive about your decision to adopt a child from a foreign country? And can I ask, exactly how it is that a child that was born in that foreign country can suddenly have a United States birth certificate?? I've never understood that...
My sister was adopted and she doesn't feel the need to go around the internet kicking sand in the face of people who are happy to have a child in their life.
Most likely, your sister writes an anonymous blog and writes about how miserable her life has been while kicking sand in the face of people who adopted children via the internet. Glad to know you're so in touch with your sister's feelings and that you are that close to her that you know exactly what she's going through every minute of every day.
Knock yourself out trying to prevent adoptions, that is the stupidest thing I've heard of in a long time.
Get therapy if you are so miserable.
I'm not trying to prevent adoptions..unless they are the kind that cause a child to lose all sense of their identity, their original birth certificate and any contact with their natural families. Ohhh...whoops....
And thanks for the advice about therapy...if you'd actually taken a minute to READ any of my previous posts, you'd see that I AM seeking therapy to deal with my issues. I hope you can do the same. It sounds like you need it more than me though. It's called anger management. Try it.
And open your comments for everyone to view if you are going to comment on other people's blogs.
Again, my comments are open and viewable...as long as you've posted before. Now that you've come here and set me straight on why adoption is such a wonderful thing, you're free to comment at will.
Happy father of an adopted little girl.
It's very telling that you didn't say "Adoptive father of a happy little girl".
~Mike Larkin
Feel free to contact me if you have any questions.
No thanks...I'll limit any contact with you to this blog...after all, I'd like my entire reading audience to see how great of an adopter you really are!
larkin777@gmail.com
I responded to a not-so-nice comment in a nice way. And for that, I'll always be the bigger person. Sorry Mike, but it's true.
Butttttt...even though I responded politely to his comment, I'd like to pick apart that lovely and thought provoking comment here and add my remaining two cents...because that's my right as a blog owner.
Dear Shitweasel.
Clever man...you just twisted my own blog title around on me...good job!! ::dripping with sarcasm::
Sorry you had a shitty life, but don't take it out on unsuspecting adoptive parents.
But are you REALLY sorry Mike, or are you just saying that? And did you just freely admit that you were unsuspecting??
There are far too many kids out there who need a mommy and a daddy for you to come rolling in to take a dump on their parade.
The phrase "take a dump on their parade" just sounds silly and adolescent..surely you could have thought of something a little more powerful..or even just use "shit on" or "fuck with"?? My friends' teenage boys would say something like "dump".
And really, are you really be that defensive about your decision to adopt a child from a foreign country? And can I ask, exactly how it is that a child that was born in that foreign country can suddenly have a United States birth certificate?? I've never understood that...
My sister was adopted and she doesn't feel the need to go around the internet kicking sand in the face of people who are happy to have a child in their life.
Most likely, your sister writes an anonymous blog and writes about how miserable her life has been while kicking sand in the face of people who adopted children via the internet. Glad to know you're so in touch with your sister's feelings and that you are that close to her that you know exactly what she's going through every minute of every day.
Knock yourself out trying to prevent adoptions, that is the stupidest thing I've heard of in a long time.
Get therapy if you are so miserable.
I'm not trying to prevent adoptions..unless they are the kind that cause a child to lose all sense of their identity, their original birth certificate and any contact with their natural families. Ohhh...whoops....
And thanks for the advice about therapy...if you'd actually taken a minute to READ any of my previous posts, you'd see that I AM seeking therapy to deal with my issues. I hope you can do the same. It sounds like you need it more than me though. It's called anger management. Try it.
And open your comments for everyone to view if you are going to comment on other people's blogs.
Again, my comments are open and viewable...as long as you've posted before. Now that you've come here and set me straight on why adoption is such a wonderful thing, you're free to comment at will.
Happy father of an adopted little girl.
It's very telling that you didn't say "Adoptive father of a happy little girl".
~Mike Larkin
Feel free to contact me if you have any questions.
No thanks...I'll limit any contact with you to this blog...after all, I'd like my entire reading audience to see how great of an adopter you really are!
larkin777@gmail.com
Monday, August 31, 2009
Today Is A New Day
I'm proud of myself today. It's been awhile since I've been able to say that. I made an appointment with a therapist and am going on Thursday. And...just now...I told my boyfriend why I feel the need to go to counseling. That took a lot of courage because for a long time I couldn't tell him about my father..had even regaled my dad's "good" qualities and ignored the shit. No more.
He's worried about me...and wanted me to know that he fully supports me in whatever I need to do. And that he understands if I can't talk to him about it yet..but that he's always here for me to talk to as well. I warned him that when I get home on Thursday after my appointment, I'll probably be exhausted...and extremely emotional. He knows..he gets it..and he loves me.
He's worried about me...and wanted me to know that he fully supports me in whatever I need to do. And that he understands if I can't talk to him about it yet..but that he's always here for me to talk to as well. I warned him that when I get home on Thursday after my appointment, I'll probably be exhausted...and extremely emotional. He knows..he gets it..and he loves me.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Rough Patch
Didn't I say in one of the below posts that I am an expert at hiding my feelings...well according to the last two posts I've made, I'm not doing such a great job lately. I've allowed my mind to wander to the plight of other adoptees and allowed it to avoid thinking about my own situation.
Not that I think that I, and my fellow adoptee friends, don't have completely valid points...I've just realized that for now, I don't have the energy to defend myself and my feelings from those who believe that we're wrong for speaking our minds...and that we're wrong for questioning the motives of those whose very blogs contradict what they say in their comments in response to our thoughts.
I need to take care of myself...finally...
Not that I think that I, and my fellow adoptee friends, don't have completely valid points...I've just realized that for now, I don't have the energy to defend myself and my feelings from those who believe that we're wrong for speaking our minds...and that we're wrong for questioning the motives of those whose very blogs contradict what they say in their comments in response to our thoughts.
I need to take care of myself...finally...
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Slice This
I'm tired today. Tired of having to "explain" loss to those who don't get it....or choose to ignore it. What isn't understood is that it doesn't matter whether the child grows up in a wonderfully loving and supportive household...there will still be loss. You can buy the child a million ponies for the backyard and throw all the circus birthday parties you want..there will still be loss.
Adoptive parents can attend every school function, every ballet class, every piano recital, every baseball/soccer/basketball/hockey/golf/track/tennis....well you get the idea...and there will STILL be loss. Yes, every child will go through an identity crisis...being a teenager SUCKS no matter how you slice it..but if you're not prepared, you will miss that your child's angst may be MORE that just teenage rage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What amused me the most about reading the blog I alluded to last night was that the AP was very proud of having real-live-adoptee-blogs (and isn't that exciting??) on her blogroll. ::clap clap clap:: There were three. Three blogs that were probably (and yes, I'm making a sweeping assumption here, but at least I have the cajones to admit that) added just because they were the first ones she found when she googled searched.
Want advice?? Start planning for the future...now. I've compiled a list of links that she, and other APs may find helpful.
From mentalhealth.net
From adopting.org
From asian-nation.org
Direct message to Kelli: If you've read from any of the above links before, then ::clap clap clap:: (here's a cookie)...I hope that you have memorized the signs of adoptee loss because one day you'll need to recognize them in the Vietnamese child you have claimed so desperately as your own.
Adoptive parents can attend every school function, every ballet class, every piano recital, every baseball/soccer/basketball/hockey/golf/track/tennis....well you get the idea...and there will STILL be loss. Yes, every child will go through an identity crisis...being a teenager SUCKS no matter how you slice it..but if you're not prepared, you will miss that your child's angst may be MORE that just teenage rage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What amused me the most about reading the blog I alluded to last night was that the AP was very proud of having real-live-adoptee-blogs (and isn't that exciting??) on her blogroll. ::clap clap clap:: There were three. Three blogs that were probably (and yes, I'm making a sweeping assumption here, but at least I have the cajones to admit that) added just because they were the first ones she found when she googled searched.
Want advice?? Start planning for the future...now. I've compiled a list of links that she, and other APs may find helpful.
From mentalhealth.net
From adopting.org
From asian-nation.org
Direct message to Kelli: If you've read from any of the above links before, then ::clap clap clap:: (here's a cookie)...I hope that you have memorized the signs of adoptee loss because one day you'll need to recognize them in the Vietnamese child you have claimed so desperately as your own.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Self Serving Shitweasels
I commented on someone's blog tonight...just finally got fed up with reading about how excited APs get while they buy children away from their families. Good for you! You just legally kidnapped a child! And how much did that cost you? Back in 1974, my aparents paid $225 for me..bet inflation has made that amount significantly higher.
I'm sick of hearing how great it is that this AP or that AP has "save" a child from living a horrid life. Get over yourself!!! I grew up with an amom who was the Queen of all martyrs. A part that she played very well..and one that she still plays.
One night when my grandfather was doing particularly bad health-wise at the nursing home, my amother, auncle and I were sitting at his bedside and my mother said, "Do you want to tell your uncle your news?" It was awkward to say the least. After I told him and he'd left, she said, "Well, he was probably shocked and didn't want to say too much because he wasn't sure how I was feeling about it". I'm sorry..WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY? My reunion isn't about you. For once, I have something that I can claim for my own. And that has been the best thing about it..I am finally finding myself.
I'm sick of hearing how great it is that this AP or that AP has "save" a child from living a horrid life. Get over yourself!!! I grew up with an amom who was the Queen of all martyrs. A part that she played very well..and one that she still plays.
One night when my grandfather was doing particularly bad health-wise at the nursing home, my amother, auncle and I were sitting at his bedside and my mother said, "Do you want to tell your uncle your news?" It was awkward to say the least. After I told him and he'd left, she said, "Well, he was probably shocked and didn't want to say too much because he wasn't sure how I was feeling about it". I'm sorry..WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY? My reunion isn't about you. For once, I have something that I can claim for my own. And that has been the best thing about it..I am finally finding myself.
Bitterness and Anger
I'm tired of ignorant people. Tired of having to hear how we, as angry adult adoptees, should just "get over it" and move on. Sorry, but unfortunately, this hurt and anguish has been with me for my entire life so far and will be for years to come. Not just because I was abused..but also because I did not grow up with my natural family.
And HOW DARE anyone tell me that I don't have a right to tell people who aren't adopted and have no idea what it's like that adoption affects every aspect of my being. And I would think that PAPs or APs would WANT to know what they are in for when the child grows up and actually can see beyond the "We chose you, isn't that lovely?" or the "You're special because you grew in my heart and not in my tummy". Please...grab me a trashcan because I just might hurl.
I understand that life in general isn't all rainbows and sunshine..regardless of whether you're adopted or not...but my point is that adoptees are treated like second class citizens. Millions aren't even given access to their original birth certificates because the almighty "Powers That Be" deem them/us unworthy of knowing the truth of our beginnings. We're told to be "grateful" for being given a better life...hear that we should get checked for diseases because our grandparent had it...even when we're not part of the same gene pool.
Am I bitter? Yes..but not because I'm adopted...because I'm sick and tired of hearing ignorant people getting upset at us for speaking our minds.
And HOW DARE anyone tell me that I don't have a right to tell people who aren't adopted and have no idea what it's like that adoption affects every aspect of my being. And I would think that PAPs or APs would WANT to know what they are in for when the child grows up and actually can see beyond the "We chose you, isn't that lovely?" or the "You're special because you grew in my heart and not in my tummy". Please...grab me a trashcan because I just might hurl.
I understand that life in general isn't all rainbows and sunshine..regardless of whether you're adopted or not...but my point is that adoptees are treated like second class citizens. Millions aren't even given access to their original birth certificates because the almighty "Powers That Be" deem them/us unworthy of knowing the truth of our beginnings. We're told to be "grateful" for being given a better life...hear that we should get checked for diseases because our grandparent had it...even when we're not part of the same gene pool.
Am I bitter? Yes..but not because I'm adopted...because I'm sick and tired of hearing ignorant people getting upset at us for speaking our minds.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
What The Hell Is The Matter With Me?
So I sent off an email to a prospective therapist yesterday...one of those generic "Write 200 words maximum about what you're looking for in regards to therapy" deals.
And so I did. Explained a bit of my situation, and also my son's situation. Haven't gotten into that little nugget of drama, but suffice to say, it's surrounding his father being upset about the close relationship my boyfriend and son have. Sigh. We'll work it through though...I have full faith on that point.
This morning, I received an email back from the therapist and now..well, now I'm sitting at my desk crying because I'm just so relieved that there's someone to help. I'd called around a few months ago to a few different places for my son, but none of them felt "right". The timing now is better...especially since it appears I need therapy more than I want to admit.
I'm relieved...but also scared out of my mind. I'd been in therapy before...but I think back then I was in a different place in my life and just wasn't ready to tackle my issues full steam ahead. Now I'm seeing just how much I need to get it all out. As hard as it'll be...and I'm sure there will be many more tears to come..I have to do this.
And so I did. Explained a bit of my situation, and also my son's situation. Haven't gotten into that little nugget of drama, but suffice to say, it's surrounding his father being upset about the close relationship my boyfriend and son have. Sigh. We'll work it through though...I have full faith on that point.
This morning, I received an email back from the therapist and now..well, now I'm sitting at my desk crying because I'm just so relieved that there's someone to help. I'd called around a few months ago to a few different places for my son, but none of them felt "right". The timing now is better...especially since it appears I need therapy more than I want to admit.
I'm relieved...but also scared out of my mind. I'd been in therapy before...but I think back then I was in a different place in my life and just wasn't ready to tackle my issues full steam ahead. Now I'm seeing just how much I need to get it all out. As hard as it'll be...and I'm sure there will be many more tears to come..I have to do this.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Soul Loss
I copied and pasted the below post from one of my archived blogs...feeling particularly adopted and abused today.
soul loss,
n in Lakota Indian philosophy, a condition in which a patient's nagi (soul) becomes detached from his or her body because of neglect, abuse, or rejection. Ceremonies are performed by a healer to find the nagi and bring it back to unite the spirit and the body.
*The above definition was taken from here.
I've always felt "lost", but could never understand why that was. Just thought that was how everyone felt at one point or another, but now I'm realizing that there's something "different" about my feelings.
Common symptoms of soul loss are as follows (I've added my own notes below each symptom):
- Feeling depressed, especially chronically so
* I've struggled with depression throughout my life, not necessarily upset about anything in particular, just upset with life in general.
- Being stuck, unable to move beyond certain challenges or obstacles
* I always seem to dwell on the situations that have affected me negatively in my life..specifically my horrendous choices in men…and my high school years.
- Not being fully present
* Sometimes I will be with a group of people and can feel myself shrinking away from them, into my own little world. It's safer that way for me.
- Feeling disconnected from life, others and self
* I have always felt like the world is passing me by and I'm missing out on things that others are enjoying.
- Experiencing low self-esteem
* If you've read any of my beginning entries on this blog, you'll understand that low self-esteem is my biggest obstacle. I feel like people are always watching and judging me harshly for the way I am, look, or act.
- Harboring deep seated shame
*Yes, but the question is, ashamed of what?? Of being adopted? Of being abused?? Of what???
- An inability to trust others
* Why would I want to trust anyone when all they do is disappoint me and make me distrustful?
- Difficulty staying focused
* I do tend to be haphazard when it comes to my work life…I jump from one project to the next. I always blamed it on being bored, but perhaps this explains it better.
- Unable to feel and express a range of emotions, stuck in a certain emotion (angry, sad, fearful, etc.)
* This rings true as well…I feel "okay" for a few days, then I get stuck in being depressed and sad. For weeks…sometimes months even.
- Chronically lacking energy or feeling tired
* Sometimes I feel like I'm sleepwalking through my days. Like I'm a robot…doing what I have to do to exist, but always feeling fatigued…physically AND emotionally.
- Feeling as if you lack purpose, direction or vision
* I don't allow myself to look too far ahead into the future because if I do, I'm usually thinking, "How am I going to screw this up?" I don't allow myself to have purpose or direction because I set myself up to fail from the start. I have a horrible problem also in that I can't make decisions. About anything…even the mundane "What do you want for dinner?" questions. I called myself a "chameleon" the other day in speaking to another adoptee because I wait for someone else to voice their opinion and then I just go with whatever they think is best.
- Being unmotivated in some or all areas of your life
* It's a constant struggle to get myself psyched up to face the day..to go to work, to take care of the house..to do anything. I'm sure that drives my boyfriend crazy!
- A tendency to repeat the same destructive patterns in life
* Perfect example being the men that I've chosen in my life. Most of them have been narcissistic and more concerned with themselves and their own happiness than with me or our relationship. And yet, I keep doing it. My boyfriend now is a saint compared to a lot of them!
- Invested in being “perfect”
* I was invested in being perfect, tried being perfect, and had become "content" with being the "bad" daughter…the black sheep. My sister is the perfect one…married, two kids born into that marriage, house, college education..the whole nine yards. Me? Unmarried (living in sin..lol), two kids born out of wedlock, house (okay, I have that one), and had to drop out of college because there was no more money left to pay for my education. Not that I'd ever begrudge my sister her degree, but her college of choice was really expensive and we couldn't even afford the state school I went to for a year.
- Consistently experiencing high levels of stress, anxiety and worry
* There isn't a moment in my day that my brain isn't worried about something. Money, food, my kids…you name it, I worry and stress about it.
-A feeling of being incomplete
* I feel like I am a puzzle that has 1,000 pieces and all the pieces are colored black making it next to impossible to put the pieces back together.
-Lost memories, like a part of your history is "missing"
* This is a big one. I always feel left out of the conversations when people are talking about their childhoods because I have effectively blocked a lot of the memories from that period in my own life.
Will I ever feel "normal"? Is it possible that there is a way out of this lackluster existence? I talk the great talk when I say that I'm happier than I've been in a long time, and maybe that's the honeymoon period of my reunion showing itself…but truth be told, in my darker moments, I'm still the girl who is afraid of rejection and will do whatever it takes to make people accept me. I don't do well with conflict and have been known to "back down" from my adversaries to avoid it at all costs. The only exception is when my kids are involved…then I become the Momma Bear protecting her cubs.
soul loss,
n in Lakota Indian philosophy, a condition in which a patient's nagi (soul) becomes detached from his or her body because of neglect, abuse, or rejection. Ceremonies are performed by a healer to find the nagi and bring it back to unite the spirit and the body.
*The above definition was taken from here.
I've always felt "lost", but could never understand why that was. Just thought that was how everyone felt at one point or another, but now I'm realizing that there's something "different" about my feelings.
Common symptoms of soul loss are as follows (I've added my own notes below each symptom):
- Feeling depressed, especially chronically so
* I've struggled with depression throughout my life, not necessarily upset about anything in particular, just upset with life in general.
- Being stuck, unable to move beyond certain challenges or obstacles
* I always seem to dwell on the situations that have affected me negatively in my life..specifically my horrendous choices in men…and my high school years.
- Not being fully present
* Sometimes I will be with a group of people and can feel myself shrinking away from them, into my own little world. It's safer that way for me.
- Feeling disconnected from life, others and self
* I have always felt like the world is passing me by and I'm missing out on things that others are enjoying.
- Experiencing low self-esteem
* If you've read any of my beginning entries on this blog, you'll understand that low self-esteem is my biggest obstacle. I feel like people are always watching and judging me harshly for the way I am, look, or act.
- Harboring deep seated shame
*Yes, but the question is, ashamed of what?? Of being adopted? Of being abused?? Of what???
- An inability to trust others
* Why would I want to trust anyone when all they do is disappoint me and make me distrustful?
- Difficulty staying focused
* I do tend to be haphazard when it comes to my work life…I jump from one project to the next. I always blamed it on being bored, but perhaps this explains it better.
- Unable to feel and express a range of emotions, stuck in a certain emotion (angry, sad, fearful, etc.)
* This rings true as well…I feel "okay" for a few days, then I get stuck in being depressed and sad. For weeks…sometimes months even.
- Chronically lacking energy or feeling tired
* Sometimes I feel like I'm sleepwalking through my days. Like I'm a robot…doing what I have to do to exist, but always feeling fatigued…physically AND emotionally.
- Feeling as if you lack purpose, direction or vision
* I don't allow myself to look too far ahead into the future because if I do, I'm usually thinking, "How am I going to screw this up?" I don't allow myself to have purpose or direction because I set myself up to fail from the start. I have a horrible problem also in that I can't make decisions. About anything…even the mundane "What do you want for dinner?" questions. I called myself a "chameleon" the other day in speaking to another adoptee because I wait for someone else to voice their opinion and then I just go with whatever they think is best.
- Being unmotivated in some or all areas of your life
* It's a constant struggle to get myself psyched up to face the day..to go to work, to take care of the house..to do anything. I'm sure that drives my boyfriend crazy!
- A tendency to repeat the same destructive patterns in life
* Perfect example being the men that I've chosen in my life. Most of them have been narcissistic and more concerned with themselves and their own happiness than with me or our relationship. And yet, I keep doing it. My boyfriend now is a saint compared to a lot of them!
- Invested in being “perfect”
* I was invested in being perfect, tried being perfect, and had become "content" with being the "bad" daughter…the black sheep. My sister is the perfect one…married, two kids born into that marriage, house, college education..the whole nine yards. Me? Unmarried (living in sin..lol), two kids born out of wedlock, house (okay, I have that one), and had to drop out of college because there was no more money left to pay for my education. Not that I'd ever begrudge my sister her degree, but her college of choice was really expensive and we couldn't even afford the state school I went to for a year.
- Consistently experiencing high levels of stress, anxiety and worry
* There isn't a moment in my day that my brain isn't worried about something. Money, food, my kids…you name it, I worry and stress about it.
-A feeling of being incomplete
* I feel like I am a puzzle that has 1,000 pieces and all the pieces are colored black making it next to impossible to put the pieces back together.
-Lost memories, like a part of your history is "missing"
* This is a big one. I always feel left out of the conversations when people are talking about their childhoods because I have effectively blocked a lot of the memories from that period in my own life.
Will I ever feel "normal"? Is it possible that there is a way out of this lackluster existence? I talk the great talk when I say that I'm happier than I've been in a long time, and maybe that's the honeymoon period of my reunion showing itself…but truth be told, in my darker moments, I'm still the girl who is afraid of rejection and will do whatever it takes to make people accept me. I don't do well with conflict and have been known to "back down" from my adversaries to avoid it at all costs. The only exception is when my kids are involved…then I become the Momma Bear protecting her cubs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)