Follow Me Where I Go

Back in August of last year, I started a new blog.  I posted there a few times but then pretty much forgot about it because I lost track of things and could not seem to keep up with it.

Because of my newly found blogging spark, I’m trying again.  It’s entirely possible that once that one is fully up and going, I will permanently retire this one and see where the other one goes.  I can’t promise that all the posts over there won’t contain a lot of the same material that this one does.  But maybe if I rework some of my posts, they’ll come across less angry and more thought provoking.  Again, no promises as I AM angry but maybe there’s a way to tame things down a little?

I hope you all with follow me over there too and let me know what you think.

I have titled the blog “Becoming Elena”.  It seems to fit…and perhaps the reason that I can’t seem to blog coherently here anymore is because I truly am out of the adoption fog that I was born into.  I’ll always be Christina…but I’ll also always be Elena.

And so, dear readers and cherished friends, I give you “Becoming Elena”.

<grin>

To Re Or Not To Re(work) This Blog

I feel scatterbrained today.  Probably the main reason for that is that our Quarter just ended at work and everyone is hitting the reset button..takes a few days to recover from that...lol..make that a few days to a few weeks to recover.  I'm emotionally spent...even changing my blog template design the other day took all my energy and as hard as I tried, I couldn't seem to form a logical blog post, so rather than just post about mindless crap, I chose to give myself a break.

I've been reading my friends' blogs the past few days though and I've come to realize that I really haven't "told my story" here.  Not so that it's easy to follow anyway..and I'm frustrated.  See, my goal is to one day write a book..and if I can't even write my own truths down so they make sense, how in the world will I be able to write something that will capture the readers' attention?  Answer:  I can't.

So, if you're all up for it...I'd like to start at the beginning again.  Some of the upcoming blog posts will probably be redundant.  And for that, I apologize.  Just skip over the stupid parts.  Just don't tell me you skipped over them...I might get a complex ::grin:: .

Where should I start?  At the adoption agency?  My childhood?  My reunion??  Where?  Help! 

I'm totally open to suggestions.  After all, yes, I write this blog mostly for myself..but you are all very important to me..even those of you who read my posts and just shake your heads sometimes.  Hard to believe that not everyone is hanging on my every word..but I'm sure it's possible. 

For now, I'm going to enjoy my glass of wine/whine and wait for some responses.  Yes..I live for comments..so let me know what you are thinking.  Even if it's to tell me to shut up.  I can handle it.  Lol..usually.

ETA:  I love the title of this post..lol..I crack myself up.  Shakespeare is turning over in his grave.  Sorry dude.

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.

"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::

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.

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.

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 the monsters 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...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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 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'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.

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.

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.