Thursday, November 20, 2014

Longing to be trusted

I'm still going through the motions.  Going to anniversary parties, making custom photo blankets, making special rice pudding for my dad,   I really want to be part of the family, so I'm still compromising a lot.   I want to be accepted, I want them to look at me and really adore me, trust me, and confide in me.    I overlook a lot of "Stuff" that is said and done.  I forgive a lot.   I'm in the middle.

The caretaker that comes to watch my dad while mom is gone was told a week ago that, this one is adopted, we didn't have her, as she's pointing at my picture.  I can guarantee that was not said about my sister.  Mom telling me the story, hugging me and saying we do love you even if we didn't have you....teary eyed.  I feel stiff as a board, unsure of what to say except asking mom if she really told the caretaker this?!  

 It was my idea to make the photo  blanket for their anniversary, I really enjoy art, crafts,  and I excel at the computer.  So I did the work with re-sizing pics, etc.  I wanted to use pictures of everyone on this giant photo blanket, but my sister wanted only my parents pictures.  I felt it was wrong, because they've had such an unhappy marriage, it may be more comforting for mom to sit and look at pics of fun days throughout the years of her entire family .  Anyhow, the point is, she got her way by not compromising.  Only pics of my folks were put on the blanket.   It took me a long time to get the pics the right size, fix the clarity, etc.    I always feel as though my ideas, my judgement is always questioned.  My sister can never just say, OK, you do it and I trust you.  There wasn't even a bit of compromise on my sisters end.  This is how it always is, and how its always been.   This is where I feel adoption has failed me.  My sister, born to my parents is just like the two of them, personality, reasoning, temperament, etc.   I am not exactly like them, however there is an invisible barrier,  most don't see.  Looking at this picture everything seems fine.  On the inside, there is chaos.   They will tell you it does not matter I was adopted, but then why all of this nonsense?  

Sometimes I feel like I am a prisoner of adoption.  I know my place, I know what I'm supposed to say, how I am supposed to react to total nonsense, and I know that my opinion, judgment and feelings are not as important, or treated with the same dignity.  I am expected to go home, lick my wounds and tolerate all of this, told again I'm too sensitive and to basically, get over it.  Tolerate the fact that I will never be treated as a well deserved family member.  I will continue to keep trying to fit in, to please everyone, and honestly,  I doubt it will ever change.  I cannot change how they feel .

Monday, September 1, 2014

Adoptive mom revelation...I think?

I have realized that mom is really damaged from her life.  Now starts the process of making sense of this information.  Sure, it should be easy to learn something new and just say, "OK, I'm better now."  Move on, like so many people post about on Facebook.  You know those annoying pics of people you don't know with little clever sayings.  Sayings that sound like a great idea, but as ridiculous as it would be to suggest that I go outside and lay an egg.

This new information about mom now has to be analyzed, made sense of, and I have to change inside...a lot.   Mom will not change, so I have to be the one to make the changes to stop this lifelong battle we've had.

I'm thinking that it was easier for her to allow her husband (my dad) to abuse me, and not their birth child or even her!    It may not have been easy per-se.  But at the end of the day, having this man abuse someone other than herself or her birth child, made it more bearable.  I know, it sounds harsh and brutal to say this, but lets get real, its probably the truth regardless if she realized at the time she was doing this or it was just a natural reaction?

She didn't do this to make me suffer,  because I'm bad, or dirty, or stupid.   When there are a lot of women with babies, and one of them starts to cry,  the babies mother goes to her child.  If another baby is crying, does she go to the other woman's baby?  Not usually, at least not in our culture.  I guess what she did is a natural, automatic response to life?

I have to admit, I do feel stupid at times.  I feel like I'm the one forcing myself within this family, at times.  Forcing to be accepted, to find my place and push everyone to love me and change their way of thinking.  They clearly don't like my way, its painful and difficult to resolve life long challenges we've had, and I tend to be the family member that wants to shake it up and make it right.  In my mind I sit and wonder how much I annoy all of them, and wonder how they all really feel about "ME."    Its always a question in my mind, and I always feel like my opinion does not matter as much as theirs, regarding...everything.   I have a lot of doubts about where I belong in this "Family."

Now I know that mom is living in some sort of fantasy world, she has created, to make her life bearable.  She has repeated history, has become a silent partner in crime with her husband, my dad.  She allowed her husband, just like her mom allowed her dad, to be the abuser.  She stood by, just like her mom did and allowed the man to have the control and be an abuser.  She also drank, like her mother did.  And stayed with the abuser, like her mom did.  Mom tells stories, sorry to say they are "Lies" about her life.  She makes everything rosy and sweet, and this morning I realize that mom has also been living a fantasy,  making her parents into  the fantasy parents she probably wanted, but did not get.   Mom could also have a blog like mine, if she chose a different life path.  Her loss and grief is so huge, to get through the pain would be too difficult.  If she wasn't currently lying about her life, I'd say she's done the work.  But its clear to me now, that it will never be processed and she will live her remaining days on this earth, in this lifetime,  just like she is.  In pieces, torn inside, and never knowing true love, intimacy, or her own mind.

Processing "Both Moms"  is so hard for me, and such a challenge and often I wonder if I'm right or wrong, but all I really know is how I feel.

Birth moms pic, tucked away in the [Junk] drawer....

Its amazing how much stress one small framed picture of my birth mom has caused me.  Maybe its more of a debate, within myself?  The picture in the frame is of the "Old" birth mom, before she changed.  When we first met, this is what she looked like.   I cannot explain how much she's changed since this picture was taken, back in 1984.  Yeah, we all change, I know.   But, she was drastically different, she was married, lived in a nice home, did not work.  Loved to garden, sew, cook and smoke salmon.  Once her husband left her, everything went to pieces.   Her views on life became jaded, and she's yet to recover.   That was around the time we were married, 27 years ago.   Considering we've been in reunion since 1984, that pretty much tells you we've had a dysfunctional, painful and disappointing relationship most of our reunion.   Its been a battle, a fight to try and hold onto the birth mom I  initially met, and liked!

I cut all ties with Nancy in February of 2014.  Nancy is my birth mom, by the way.  We had been talking again, but I have not seen the woman in so many years its mind boggling.  Over the past few years she's refused to meet me anywhere, that really puzzled me.  I chalked it up to the fact that my birth brother and I don't like one another, and she is so involved in his life maybe it was hard to see me and keep it a secret?

Why do I have to be the one that is a secret?  Why can't my birth brother be the secret?  I've done nothing wrong, except protect myself from unnecessary harm due to both of their indiscretions, to put it lightly.

She thinks I have a problem because every time we start talking, I cut it off.  She cannot have a relationship with me without rambling on and on about my birth brother or telling half truths about his life.  Drives me nuts, that she lies.  Without getting into details and telling stories, this is the bottom line.  I told her that I can have a relationship with her only if my brother is out of the mix.  She cannot do it, and so I have chosen to walk away.   Its not that simple, writing this makes me sound shallow, and unable to bend.  As I've blogged about in the past,  craziness happens in our lives when my brother is allowed even an inch.  Craziness happens with Nancy in my life too, but both of them puts me over the edge.

The process of accepting this is brutal.  I took her picture out of that junk drawer so many times.  I mean put it up, took it down over and over again until it found its resting spot for now.   There is shame involved in this, not shame for wanting her in the drawer, but for even having her pic in a frame.  Does she deserve to be displayed amongst the loves of my life?  What does she deserve?  Truth is I don't have the answer.  Maybe what she really deserves I am not giving her?  Or, because of her life choices she has changed what she deserves?  Does it matter how bad she is?  If she were decent and honest, I would probably allow her pic to be placed next to my loved ones.   I would not allow my brothers picture to be anywhere in my house.  That man is turning 40 next month, has threatened one too many times to kill my entire family, so honestly he deserves absolutely nothing on the subject of loyalty.

Today, I do not miss her, I do not want her around, nor do I have the desire to even chat with her.  I always have this silent battle inside about her, because she thinks I have the problem, not her.  That bugs me!   She can't own what she's done, and quite possibly she has buried it so deeply, not even she can see it herself.   I have apologized to her many times, saying that I am greatly sorry that I cannot tolerate her being less than truthful about my brother, and every time things go well for the two of us she muddies the water by bringing up his craziness.  Then, later on she tells people that "Her daughter" is crazy"!!!!  Yeah I'm crazy, sick and tired of her lies, and her deceit, and her betrayal and have come to the conclusion she is not mentally well, for whatever the reason.  She does take a lot of pain meds she really does need, so maybe her mind is clouded and confused a lot?

Why does adoption always feel so yucky inside to me?  Why am I the one that is always battling inside, when its obvious I am the only one doing this,  the others don't give a darn.  They probably don't suffer inside like I do, they were never put in this position to feel as though they have to "Manange" so many people, only the adoptee is left to battle this, and I honestly think we are supposed to do it in silence, suffer in silence, and endure the long and difficult battle of reunion alone.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Surprising and confusing information from moms sister....

Today I found out that my mom's life growing up was a lot different...different than I was told!

Rumor has it that her dad was abusive...and her mom allowed him to be and never stopped him.  

And I mean crazy abusive, if one of the kids had a cold, he had a regimen that included an enema...and a long list of craziness.  

Her parents fought a lot, yeah I know a lot of married folks fight.  

My mom's "Mom" was also...a drinker.   My head is still spinning.  

When her mom was going to give birth to her younger twin siblings, she traveled with the other kids to give birth at her sisters house, which required taking a train.  Her dad never did call or show up, they came close to breaking up, she eventually went back, borrowed money for train fare to take 4 kids under the age of 4 on the train with her, can you imagine twin newborns.   She gave birth to a 5th child he didn't want, the baby died at birth, and he was glad.  

He was cheap, never gave them money for a darn thing.   Not even the important thing.  Even when my mom was at nursing school, a private catholic school which required her and her roommate to have matching bed spreads, he complained, gave my mom a hard time about giving her money for the bed spread.   

From what I was told, everyone disliked him, my aunt actually told me they hated him.  

This information is the last puzzle piece, the piece I've been waiting for.  The answers I've needed forever.  An explanation for all of my questions.  

Im stunned, almost at a loss for words.  I feel like I have brain freeze from eating an ice cream cone too fast.  Ive got a lump in my throat...I have feelings I don't know how to cope with or process.

I have to sit and think about this for a while.  Im at my parents house, helping mom with my dad right now.  It's so hard, and I think its a test....for me.

I find it interesting that even today, she tells stories of her parents and just skips the important things that could help me.  And information that would have helped me years ago, understand why she sat idly and watched dad be an abuser and by remaining silent was his partner and just as responsible.  She does not see that she has ever done wrong.  Yet all of her siblings are completely different than her, they are open and honest about what happened when they grew up.  My only living aunt told me that their brother would have told me all the stories, if he was still alive.  And their other sister would have told me too, but she is also gone.

I guess the next phase is now figuring out how to heal.  And process this because as I sit here today, and type this blog, she is still behaving the same way now, as she did when I was in the 4th grade.   She has not changed, and at almost 82 years old, I don't see that she will.

I have to be the one who changes, who does not carry these feelings around.  I know this, but its easier said than done.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Re-negotiating process?

Over the past couple of weeks I have found myself trying to re-negotiate my belonging in any way to my birth mom.

I took the one pic I have of her in my home, down.

I look in the mirror at myself, and look at my eyes.  I don't want my eyes to look like hers.  I try to imagine they look like someone else's.

I look at my skin, and I know I got my skin type from her.   Even my hair, the way it falls, makes me want to re-negotiate.

I wanted so much to know the feeling of looking like someone, and now,  at this stage of reunion, if thats what you want to call it, I dont care who I look like.

I never thought this would be a part of this de-fantasize my life.    I try to push the thoughts of any resemblance I have of her, out of my mind, I try not to think that any part of me is like her.  I see a picture of myself and I shudder at the thought that I appear to be like her.

Have I ever said or done something remotely similar to something she has said or done?  I have been re-thinking everything.   Do I behave like her?  I dont think so, I answer myself.  I have been on a mission to try and listen better to others, and to be a better person in general.  I think this woman is the reason why I feel so motivated to do this.

Such a strange feeling today inside of me.  What is this whole mess we call adoption, how does an adoptee fit into any of this mess?  Why does it matter where I got these darn toes, or ears?   Does anyone else really care where they came from?  Are adoptee's the only one that care about finding out what bits and pieces we got from relatives?  Does anyone in the birth families really think about this stuff, or is this the wonderfully divine present left for the adoptee to sort out....alone?

Seriously, I have been on this journey alone, with the exception of my husband who's been a champ.  But my mom has never really cared about who I look like,  I don't think my sister has really given it much thought.  I know my birth mom was curious enough to clear her name, by finding me.

So today, I am finally realizing and feeling the reality that I would like to re-negotiate the entire deal.  I don't want to be the adopted girl.  I don't want to look, act or be like her...ever!  I just want to be like everyone else.   I don't want to analyze every step of my life, wondering if I am in any way, shape or form, like her.   At this point I don't even want to admit she is my birth mom, and I do think I have the right to make this choice.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The music swells, the mother runs and embraces her daughter...

I just watched Little House on the Prairie episode, Mary starts a fire in the barn studying for a test.  In the end, Mary is sitting in the field by herself, her mother goes to find her, the music swells, Mary turns her head and see's her mother as she runs towards Mary.  They meet, hug, and the mother tells her she's sorry, and come now, lets go home.  They are both obviously happy, love one another and the idea that moms run towards their daughters with open arms like in this TV show sends a chill down my spine. I have a bit of a burning in my nose and eyes, and I cannot deny I felt tears welling in my eyes.

I flock to movies and TV shows like this.  Always have.  Hallmark channel and I are best friends.  I imagine how it would be to be the little girl, and how touching it is to have that bond with your mother.

I just wonder if all those people working in adoption agencies have any idea what they are really doing?   Encouraging women to walk away from their baby, and taking the risk that another woman may not be able to fully love and adore her the same way she would?

Its a crap shoot, really.  How will the dice roll, who will win, who will lose?  How do these people go home at night, and sleep soundly knowing they have not done everything on God's green earth to keep that mother and her baby together?  Do they realize they are robbing an entire family of a sister, a brother, an aunt, uncle, cousin, and even worse, a grandchild?

There is loss for everyone.  History is changed.  Lives are forever altered, never the same again.  Yet you search the internet now and see the ad's for adoption's and it almost makes me feel panicked.  I cannot go there, and I cannot get myself so upset that I want to march down on the local street with a sign saying, "Family Preservation"  --"Dont give your baby away."

I know not everyone has an unhappy adoption experience, but there are plenty of them out there.  Its not like we get to choose as the adoptee.  Having a fairly painful experience myself, I often wonder what it would be like to be someone else.  I could be anyone, in a different situation, with a completely different reality.  Different parents, different city, country, the options are limitless.

At some point I would love to get up and speak to a large group of adoption agencies, and tell them what my experience has been and continues to be.  And how they act as God "Creating families" that should not be created to begin with.  The extreme sadness they have caused me.

Its a joke around my house, my adoption papers say "Baby Girl (C-2566)"  no name, nothing but a number!  So does this mean that when I was put into a foster home they called me..."Nothing?"  Just said, oh hey baby girl C-2566!    Its like a number from  a catalog!  ha!  Baby for sale!

All joking aside, I cannot deny that I do not feel warm and fuzzy about this.  I'm not super mad, but I would like to know "Who" had me for the first few months of my life?  And I'd like to know the family that brought me back!   I should be given the right to find out this information, its about me!

Those Hallmark movies and sappy TV shows will continue to be my favorite pass time, and I will probably continue to enjoy them regardless of the shoddy deal I got thanks to Holy Family Adoption Service, and those awful Nuns who were in charge back in the 60's.   I am moving forward, I have accepted what I cannot achieve and will not have in this lifetime.  That does not mean I cannot watch these movies and appreciate the mother/daughter bond.  It reminds me of my daughter & I, how attached we are to one another, and that makes me deeply happy, and has to be enough.

I wish I could go down to this adoption agency and tell them the devastating consequences their bad judgement and lack of common decency have been and that  it has taken me a lifetime to sort through all of the pain I have been dealt thanks to them!

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Another one bites the dust.

My son went in for surgery a week ago.  We had this planned for quite awhile, and it was taking place less than a mile from my parents house.

The day before surgery, I spoke with mom.  My son suggested we pick her up on the way, she had said she wanted to come and visit and see Nick either before or after surgery.  She said no, she would come later.  OK.

We got to the hospital at 5:00am, I told mom I'd call her when it was almost time for surgery, and I did. We talked for awhile.

I called her about 6 times throughout the time he was in surgery, and afterwards in recovery.  I called one last time once he was put in a room for the night.

Around 5:00pm came, and mom called me.  She never said she was not coming, nor did she say she was coming to visit.  I just figured she would considering she lives just up the street.

I never did hear anything from mom, and she never showed up.  My son agreed to stop by her house on the way home.  So we did, she seemed odd.

I was super disappointed, I went through waiting alone, for 3 hours my son was in surgery.  Just in February my sisters husband had surgery.  I went to sit with her so she was not alone.  My mom made a big deal about it, said how wonderful it was and how nice it was that my sister did not have to wait alone.

So I told my sister about this, and I also figured out through my kids that my sisters daughter was in town, and went to visit my mom on the same day my son had surgery.  My kids figured she knew my niece was coming and didnt want to leave to go see my son.

I mentioned this scenario to my sister, and she insisted that mom did not know Kristina was coming.   I find thats hard to believe.

So my sister has made every excuse under the sun for mom, like she always does.  I on the other hand am kind of over it.  I guess being alone for surgery is OK for me, but not them?  I'm not sure how I can look at this any other way?  My mom could have walked to the hospital, I offered to come pick her up, she could have taken the Blue Bus,  1/2 mile.

The point is, coming to sit with me and see my son was not important enough for her.  If it were important, she would have come.

I seriously have to reconsider my position.  I am too defeated with these types of situations.  I expect somewhat of the same consideration from my family.  Yet I dont get it, and continue to be disappointed.  My kids say that grandma doesnt care about them as much as she cares about my sisters kids.  Ask any one of them and they'd quickly tell you their side and journey with my family.

What do I do I thought?  I called mom finally 5 days after surgery.  She seemed nutty, confused, and never apologized for not showing up, or for not being there for me.

This is old news, too much for me at almost age 49.  I dont recover as quickly from my child having surgery, and then added to that is this emotional stuff.  I texted my sister screen shots of the outgoing calls I made to mom, so maybe if mom denied that I had ever called her, my sister would have proof that mom has gone around the bend?

I wont know the answer, my sister may never ask her why she didnt show up.   I am still the dirty, disheveled kid that was left behind in the shopping cart.  That is how I sometimes feel, when my so called family flakes on me.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Turns out, not so funny story...I guess?

I was telling my aunt Mary, my birth fathers sister who happens to be my age about something that was told to me years ago.  At the time the story was told, I was probably in my early 20's, and I'm guessing a tad bit easier going than I am now?  You know, just didnt think too much about anything.  At the time, it was dangerous, I was on the edge and knew just to keep everything compartmentalized.

Anyhow, my birth mom  told me the story about how her family found out she was pregnant with me.  How everyone was torn apart, she was in the bath tub, and her mom came in, realizing she was pregnant.  Her father was in the hall, and her mother told him the news.  He replied, "Not Nancy, shes too smart for that" -  REALLY?  SHE's too smart for that, I'm guessing it was the immaculate conception, right?  She got pregnant by herself I was probably thinking when I heard the story.

My birth mom continued with the story, she had been trying to abort me.  Using Coca-Cola, ways I never thought possible, to make the pregnancy go away.  Long hot, almost boiling baths to somehow make me go away.  Her girlfriend had helped her find ways of aborting.  As you can all see, it didnt work, as I type this blog at age 48!  ha!

So theres the story.  Was told many times to me by my birth mom.  When I told my Aunt, she seemed shocked, taken back with this loud noise like she had just seen a giant rat in her house.  I guess its kind of mean to tell such a story to one's child you've just met for the first time, maybe it would have been better to keep this story a secret?

My aunt said something very important yesterday.  She commented on the Coca-Cola attempt and said its like "Your not the same person"  ---we both paused.  Silence.  We both realized that we discovered the truth.  Nancy, my birth mom, does not realize that I am that baby.  I am Cathy,  a person that does not really click in her head as being her child, like my full birth brother.  I am that baby in her belly that was trying to be aborted, she did not want me.  So I get it, she never bonded with me, she did not want me.   I was like this mistake she somehow had to deal with, and when she met me, she only wanted to be sure that I was indeed Doug's baby.  She had been messing around with another man, and everyone pointed the finger at this other guy.  So she really did find me just out of pure selfishness.  Just out of curiosity.  She wanted to clear her name, rub it in everyone's face.  To show the world that yes, I was Doug's baby.

Well, she succeeded.  My grandmother, my Aunt Mary's mom, almost had a heart attack when looking at my baby pictures.  It was clear, I was Doug's baby.  That was enough for her, she went through some of the motions, for a short period of time, but after that, it was pretty much over for her.

So what does this mean to me now?  Maybe, just maybe, it gives me some insight to why she has behaved so badly over the past 30 years?   I would not behave this way, but this could be how she has survived it?

It does not change how I feel, or what has happened.  I do not want anything to do with this woman.  But it could clear up a lot of things, mainly why she sees me and does not connect me with being her baby.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Enough time has passed

I feel enough time has passed to safely say I have done everything possible to try and make amends with my birth mom.  To force her to love me, to reciprocate.  I even forced her to a CUB retreat, where she was incapable of hugging me, brushing my hair, or saying that she loved me.  To this day this woman has never said, "I love you."

I have been forgiving.  I have gone back for more after forgiving and never hearing an apology from her.

I have been helpful.  I have helped both her and my birth brother countless times over the past 30 years.   I have helped financially, emotionally, and  physically.  I have NEVER asked her for a penny, for emotional or physical help in these 30 years.

I have overlooked a lot of adversity.  I have ignored and overlooked her stealing, cheating, and lying..for 30 years.

I keep asking myself, "What do you want from this woman"  --  I know the answer.    Unfortunately, the answer cannot be attained in this life.  My birth mom is not capable of love, nurturing, being my mom.

Having said that, why would I talk to a woman who cannot be my friend, my birth mother, or treat my children with respect and kindness, or even think of them.

What do we have to say to one another?  What would a conversation look like?  Well, I know what it looks like, one sided.  Her side full of hatred, lies, betrayal and mine full of hope.

What is the point?  Because she gave birth to me I am bound to endure her betrayal again and again?

I will never get what I want from this woman I call my birth mom.  The reason for the title of this blog, "Fantasy mom has died"  -- she has been buried, and is gone, even though she has not really died.   Its the process of acceptance, of things I cannot attain, cannot change or continue to have hope for.  I believe to the depths of my soul that 30 years is long enough to safely say, "Enough."


Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Adoption makes no SENSE at times!

If I sit and think things through, I understand why my family doesnt get it.  In my mind, it makes sense. I can get to the end and understand every single person's position.  Where they are emotionally, and why.

In real life, it does not make sense, because I cant find the solution.  I know what needs to be done, what needs to be said, to be cleared up,  to be able to move forward to the next level.

I need to go to the next level.   I have to sit and think about how I can get this accomplished.  Mom does not want to discuss things that make her uncomfortable, and to be honest, I dont think she can be very honest.  Its too painful to admit things about our lives, and its possible she is not even aware of how she really feels.  She has spent so many years in a dysfunctional marriage, and been the caretaker of my dad, and has been abused herself, she may not know which end is to speak.

OK, so I'm back to the same level I'm at.  I may have to accept this level.  I may have to realize that I have to micro manage my family.  I have to be thick skinned, accept the insults, accept the comments.  Im supposed to keep excusing mom's words, and I have to believe she really doesnt mean any of them.

Do I get smart, and call her out on her words.  Or do I just continue to pretend that she really isnt saying them, and excuse her.  Wait.  Isnt that why I'm blogging, to get rid of this "Fantasy Mother" that really does not exist.  Am I supposed to continue with this fantasy, keep pretending to make their lives easier?

Why do I always have to be the one making their lives easier?  Why do I have to compromise?  My sister says Im too sensitive, and that mom does not really mean what she says.  OK, then what does she mean?   I ask her, does mom say these things to what do you mean?   So I'm continued to be told to shut up, in a nice way.  I should not make anyone feel uncomfortable. go back to my first sentence....I know why mom is this way, I get it.  But were all adults, lets just get through this and go to the next level.

See why Im stuck.  The work has to be done by myself.  I have to somehow find a way of accepting this.  I go through the motions of family life, but somewhat detached.  I'm not feeling the same way as they rest of them are.  My kids are not feeling the same as their cousins.  Our bond and attachment is different with my parents, and I am woman enough to admit it.

So I have to find a comfortable place and accept that family life will be just as its always been.   I am not saying I dont love them, I'd do anything for my family.  I just would like to "Feel" differently.  As I've said before, I dont like having this disconnect, which is why I continue to search for ways of repairing this.    I search within to find answers, and solutions.

There is no quick fix, you cant say "Move on" or "Get over it" - does not work.  How does one  feel that bond when its never been there to begin with ?   I guess all of the parties involved possibly feel this way,  searching for a bond that does not exist.  There is loyalty for all parties, which is an important feeling, but its different than that bond.   Maybe that is enough?  Maybe I just have to accept and go to the next level knowing that loyalty and knowing my place as their daughter is enough?  I cant change what has been done, or said, or continues to be said and done.  I cant create a I have with my own family.

I just looked up the meaning of the word "Bond."  And I found an article written in Psychology Today talking about mother-daughter relationship.  They stated, "There is great value in the mother-daughter tie because the two parties care for one another and share a strong investment in the family as a whole,"  ---I find that interesting.  All of you adoptive moms out there, remember how important it is to make sure your adopted daughters feel like they are part of the family, and investing in the family as a whole.   This is crucial to make sure your daughter grows up knowing her position, her place, and realizes her importance in your life.  Age 48 she should never be told that "Now, she is part of a family."  --She has to know immediately, her worth, her value to you and your extended families and cherished as though you gave birth to her yourself.  

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Self-fulfilling prophecy! (laugh)

I wish my life could be summed up in a few sentences, using the term "Self-fulfilling prophecy" to solve everything.

Dont you wish you could just say, oh, I was wrong about everything...just kidding, I just made this stuff up!  I had nothing better to do for the past 48 years, just thought I'd write a blog that contained nothing but lies. or self fulfilling prophecies!  hahaha!

People like to reduce others experiences, how they feel,  to tell others "To get over it" or "Forget about it" even if the abuse in many forms continues to happen now.

It is easier to move forward if the same old stuff  is no longer happening.  If the people that matter to you are no longer jerks.  Makes this process that so many geniuses are always pushing onto others, you know the "Get over it" theory.  Give me a break!  You get over it.

Having said that, I received a comment to my last blog.  Someone who remains anonymous said they had only read one of my blogs, but thinks I have created a self-fulfilling prophecy.  That my perception of what was said, and what is said, and continues to be said must be wrong.  That I am too sensitive.  That I think back to the past and somehow bring it into the future, the current time.  So basically I am full of it.

Hmmm...just wondering, how many "Non-adopted" people out there were told age 48, "Now you are part of a family."    This was said many times during a conversation, and after receiving some precious china from my mom's mom.  I blogged about it.  After I told her how special it was having her mothers china, and how I realized I now had so many generations of women's china in my cabinet.  This felt like such a blow to my gut.  Here I am so proud and happy to have this china, and this moment is being reduced and deducted to a mistake.  And I am then reminded that see Cathy, now you are part of a family.  Who says this to their daughter?  Especially not after saying that the box containing the china really didnt belong to me , but to my sisters daughter.  It would never come out of my mouth if I already thought my daughter was my daughter.  As I blogged, I immediately said I dont have to own anything, I can share this china or give it to my niece.  The china is not the issue, its my moms opinion and feelings for me.  I dont want it that badly and I love my niece, I'd give her anything I had.  That is my point.  I dont care about the china, its what it means to her, and her giving it to me was the honor.  As the honor was quickly changed to something else.  A mistake.  And I have to add she does this all the time.  Reduces things and somewhat of a slap on the face sort of feeling, punched in the gut.  Maybe she doesnt realize what she is doing?  Its comfortable for her, she is used to behaving this way ?  I dont know, thats why I blog in hopes to find the answers.

Just curious, all you folks out there, how many birth kids were told this?  How many birth kids were left out of generation pictures because of family members not being "SENSITIVE" enough to think past their rear and realize, oh yeah, Cathy and her daughter are part of this picture.  This is just an example.    How many of you birth kids can say that you dont have any genetics in common with your parents, grandparents, etc.   Honestly, I think my family are clueless of the insensitive and cruel things they say and do.  I dont think they do it to be mean, its a bad habit, one they've become used to .

Dont tell me you know,  or that is the same.  It is not the same.    I dont know what its like to  grow up with a birth mom, and you have no clue what its like to grow up as the adopted child, with an older sister that was NOT adopted...if you are not adopted.    No fault of my sisters, or my own.  Nobody is really at fault here, its just the way it is.   Lack of knowledge from the get go.

Having said that, I chose to create a blog to help myself.  Not to argue with ignorant people that make stupid comments.  Im serious, no sarcasm here.  I mean what I say, if you dont like it, simply dont read it.  If my experience bothers you, or upsets you too much, just dont read.  I will not apologize for how I feel and what did happen and is happening.

This journey has allowed me to not repeat what was done to me.  The abused usually become abusers.  I have not repeated this cycle.  The domino effect has not continued because of my honesty.  Again, if you want to sweep the abuse and dysfunction under the carpet, go for it, but I cannot be part of it.

Saying I have created a self fulfilling prophecy is ignorant.  I did not abuse myself, I did not choose to be adopted.  I cannot deny that ignorance annoys me, and this is the only place I can really say so.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Lots of bargaining and sorting today

Wow, I'm ashamed that I still keep trying to bargain for a different set of moms.  Yes, I intellectually know the situation wont change.  I know my birth mom is not available, never  has been, emotionally, or physically, for me or my family.  My mom is around, but she is also unavailable to a point.  I sit here this morning, trying to sort through the things my birth mom recently said to me.  The fact that she does not have a bond with me, honestly doesnt give a darn if I drop off the face of this earth.  She backs what my full birth brother does, age 39, regardless if he's wrong.  She's been enabling him for 20 years now.  She is a liar, yeah, I know this.  She cheats, yeah I know this.  She's dishonest, oh wait that was covered under a liar.  Probably the worst part is, she tells false stories, and people believe her.

OK, so what is it that I want?   I'm doing it again, trying to restore that fantasy I've had forever.  It must be a mistake, I must have the wrong woman.  How could this woman be my birth mother?

I keep searching for the good.   She sometimes seems to be on my side, she kind of seems to like me, then when she tells me these terrible stories about my birth brother (she kept) dating these young girls, etc (I wont elaborate) she pretends like she does not know what has happened over the past 30 years of our reunion.  She acts like an idiot, pretends she doesnt know what I'm talking about, and a stranger would think after she's done talking, that my birth brother is a saint, a wonderful and honest person that has his life together.  She is clever, she is crafty, she is believable.

OK, so she tells me stories I have asked not to hear about my birth brother, I get upset, and then she turns on me.  Tells me that I say nasty words to her, and before I was fine.  She doesnt understand why I get upset with her, and say what I say...YES SHE DOES.  As though there is no basis for my  words?  What, is she kidding me?  Thats like being the mother of a murderer who then turns to another and says her son is a saint, wonderful person, and expecting to hear a glowing review.  I dont know what she wants me to say in response, I cannot lie.  Its the pure truth that my birth brother is a non functioning person, has type 1 diabetes, has bipolar disorder, has severe OCD, has severe anxiety he cannot go in public much.  He takes steroids to build his muscles - has abused drugs for many years, such as meth, LSD, and another liquid drug that destroys the brain.  Oh, and he has irreversible brain damage from drugs as well.    I'm not making this stuff up.  Why does she turn on me and make me seem like the villain?  I am the easy kid, never did drugs, got married and I'm still happily married, independent.  I was lucky not to get any mental disorder such as bipolar disorder, I dont have any OCD, and I dont have anxiety disorder.  That was just pure luck of the draw!

This is why I sit here this morning, bargaining.  Thinking maybe theres a way to make this right, when in reality, I have tried over and over again and failed.    Never able to make it right, and never able to get through to her.  Each time she gets mad at me, pretending that I am the villain, when in reality, I am just being truthful and have been nothing but up front with her about our relationship and what I want.

I have wanted her to act more like a mom, not someone you met just yesterday.  I wanted her to be like family, act like the grandma to my kids.  I wanted her to be involved with my extended family.  None of these things have ever happened, and its been 30 years this year.  Time to get my head cleared out and straight.  She is not coming for me, or making this right.  Its ridiculous for me to continue to have hope, dont you think?  I mean 30 years is a long time to wait!  I have been patient, I have gone back to her again and again.  Maybe I need to write her a letter, explaining what I have wanted from her, so there is no misunderstanding.

All I know is that I need to get a grip on myself.  I have to stop bargaining.  Maybe I was not meant to have a mom, maybe this is my cross to bear.  Maybe I am supposed to learn how to give what I did not get, which I believe I am successfully doing now, with my own kids.  I think that is what I am supposed to do in this lifetime, be accepting.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

What do they mean?

I'm always trying to figure out what my family means when they say the things they say.

My brother in law  is in hospital for surgery.  I go to sit and wait with my sister.  It was a long wait and an awful experience to have alone.

I hear from my A-mom, how appreciative "They are" that I went and sat for hours...with my sister (called by name)    I shrugged it off.  Trying to focus on what someone told me about being too sensitive...oh it was my sister.

Again, its said.  "They" appreciate it so much that I sat for hours.  Here comes the crickets again, dead silence on my end as I search for a response.  I think I said, Uh-huh and quickly ended the cell phone conversation.

OK, and again its said by A-mom, that "They" really appreciate me spending the time with my sister.  I have only one sibling, my sister.  On and on about it.  OK, time limit to how many times you can say this and not really mean it has been met.    This wasnt some slip on her end, she means what she says after repeating it over and over in a  7 hour time frame.

My nephew grabbed us coffee, the hospital cafeteria was closed.  And a nice snack for me as well.  So after I went home I texted and said again, thanks so much for grabbing us coffee and a snack.  He thanked me for sitting with his mom, my sister.

I answered "I am your moms sister, this is what sisters do."  I got a smiley face in response.

Dont they know I am the sister?  I have known her husband, my nephews father, the one in the hospital now for about 30+ years.  We have spent the past 28 Christmas' and Thanksgivings with them, countless birthday parties, fourth of July, Easter, etc.

What does this mean?  Am I the outsider, the friend they are thanking, or am I the daughter, the sister and the aunt?  I'm confused, because who says this to her own daughter?  Im just curious to know what it means?  Why is my own mother thanking me for sitting with my own sister while her husband has surgery?

Wednesday, February 5, 2014


One last blog for the day.

I wanted to mention that I keep a lot of secrets from my family.  They dont know this blog exists, and have not read it.

Truthfully, I doubt anyone in my family has any idea as to how I feel. They think they know!    If I asked them to read my blogs, my feelings, they'd probably be in shock or laugh, maybe even slug me.

Its too difficult for them to be honest, about what is happening now, what has happened.  They cannot and dont want to talk about any of the things I have blogged about.

My sister thinks its too late for my mom to change.  I disagree, and have clearly told her again and again that I dont think its too late for change.

Problem is,  some of my family members are living seriously dysfunctional lives.  How can I ask them to be honest when they are not being honest with themselves in their own lives,  and have not been honest  for years?

As I have said before, tackling one's self takes a lot of discipline, and hard work.  Being honest with yourself is exhausting and hard.   Its not a task a lot of people want to start, because it can take years to finish!

 My husband and children somewhat understand me , so I am not totally alone, but its not something I talk about daily, or care to discuss on a regular basis, so I choose to do this blogging and self help somewhat alone.

Someday my family may read this blog, or my book I plan to write, and I will have to deal with that when the time comes.

So I am slowly branching out, allowing certain people to read my blog, and I find this extremely scary and hard.  What will people think, will they understand me, will they criticize me, will they not like me any longer?  Its possible, especially those family members who live their daily lives in serious denial.


I sometimes wonder if I am similar inside as others.  How I analyze and compare, summarize, prepare, collect my thoughts, wake up and think.

When I was  a little kid, I had a hard time understanding why I was me, and not someone else.  I would sit alone and try to hear what another kid was thinking.  I didnt understand why I couldnt hear them.  Maybe I was supposed to be some other kid in another state, or country?  I just knew I didnt belong in this body, with this family.

Is this normal for a 3 year old to think?

Something happens when a baby is taken or given up for adoption.  Something happened to me, something I had no control over.  Somehow, I got mixed up, in a lot of ways.  I missed someone I knew before I had the social skills to physically speak with, but I still knew I missed her.  I knew I didnt belong where I was, and went as far as thinking I was put in the wrong body, with the wrong thoughts, with the wrong parents, in the wrong house.

I am thinking, that these feelings never fully leave, you get busy with your own life, your husband and kids.  But when its quiet, and the kids are grown and gone, you start thinking again, and then you realize these ideas are not gone, just dormant.

I feel like I'm in pieces some days,  as though I am waiting for something, just not sure what!   I clean the house, do the laundry, do the dishes, scrub the floors, change the sheets.  Where is that missing piece?

I sit and start to blog again, wanting to get some of this brain fog to disappear.  I have no forgotten to do our taxes, I have done just about everything I need to do, except clean out the garage and that is next.   I have such a good time with my husband, I really love him, the life I have created is amazing.  But there is still something missing and it is most noticeable after a family get together.

 Do I just pretend its not there?  Do I just continue with the act I have perfected after so many years of performing?  And pretend I'm like the  other people that are not adopted?  Do you non-adoptee's feel this way?

Sunday, February 2, 2014


"TITANIUM" - David Guetta  (song)  
I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet
You shoot me down, but I get up
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium

This is my song, I decided last night...  

This song is the grown up version of me skipping through the parking lot of Lucky's supermarket, on my way home, knowing I'm ready to be pounded for something I did not do, or for no reason at all.  In my head I hear my own voice clearly, I've blocked out the rest of the world as I skip chanting, "I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl, He's a bad man, He's a bad man."

Now as I hear this song so emotionally performed, not meaning literally shoot me, but metaphorically.   I cried on the way to my sisters house yesterday, on my way to celebrate my dads 87th birthday, realizing that my adoptive family has no clue who I am, how I feel, or what has really happened to me.  They dont really care, because they refuse to look it straight in the eye.  Admit to what has been said and done, their refusal makes them weak and because I have fought so hard, I am the strongest.  

They can keep shooting me down, but  I wont fall, dont they get it?  They cant destroy me, but they have  tried, I am too strong for all of them.   I will keep getting up, and I will continue to sort through what has happened so I can continue to be strong.  

Adoption, a word spoken so freely.  People hear that word and immediately they think  its good, warm and fuzzy, fairy tale worthy.  Does anyone really know what its like when adoption is not a success?   Do they know the truth of how it feels to be  abandoned by my supposed mothers, both birth and adoptive, again and again. Do they understand that even a woman, grown with her own grown children is still sitting here today typing to get her feelings out onto this blog so she can pull herself together after a family get together that has left her exhausted.  Do they know what its like growing up, wondering where these amazing people that loved me so much they gave me away, are?  Having a sister that was not adopted and seeing the differences that are nobodys fault, yet still hard to experience even as an adult.  Realizing that as an adoptee you will never have that feeling with anyone except your own children if you choose to have them.  That special bond, that a lot of adoptees miss out on with both mothers.  

As hard as this is to admit, it will be as hard to explain.  Im just now beginning to like myself.    My entire life has been searching, understanding, sorting, forgiving and accepting to finally be able to look in the mirror and see me.   I have not recognized myself in the past, thought myself to look and be someone different than I am.  I am guessing that is part of the fantasy I created, but its like looking in the mirror for 48 years, and seeing the back of someone's head.  Not really seeing into myself, or recognizing who I am.  I know I have always been strong, that I remember, but somehow through this process of adoption and life, I created some person I dont recognize in the mirror.  Maybe its the process of acceptance, that I will not have what I had hoped and dreamed of having for so many years.  Part of this fantasy, or maybe its just hope, that one day you wake up, and everything is OK, these feelings inside are gone.  Everyone is in sync.  It was all just a bad dream, and I woke up realizing I am just me, regardless of where I came from. 

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Am I the crazy one?

Sometimes I feel like the crazy one.  I've done so much sorting, analyzing, honest hard work on myself.  I mean, I've been brutally honest with myself.   Yep, Ive admitted that I'm a jerk.   Yep!  I have tried so hard, daily,  to be a better person, to say thank you to my husband when  he does trivial things for me, because it is important.  I try to think of things I "Should" be doing, for my own children.  Again, trivial things in life that later on in life, we think back upon and remember those trivial things with a smile.  I want to be happy, I want to be thankful, and I want to be appreciative.

So, I am happy.  I am thankful, and I am appreciative.  However at times when specific family members challenge me I find myself angry.   I dont like to be this angry, and I dont like to feel this way.  Yes, life is a challenge, I have no control over what others say and do.  I cannot control this family member, I have to remember this when I'm presented with a challenge.  I have to be clever, instead.

I communicate with family, probably too much.  I dont feel the need to hold back important feelings and issues, even though my husband thinks I should do just that.   However this family member feels she is "A Private Person" and on the other hand interrogates me, in a clever way, on a regular basis.

Hmmm....I just got a reality check this week.  I think I may have "FIGURED" this family member out! I think I know what shes doing, and why.  Maybe its the TV show "Medium"  I've been watching lately that has me thinking in a more clever way?  I get caught up in the same way of dealing with this family dysfunction.  Instead I need to react differently when asked, or interrogated as I sometimes feel.  I need to respond by saying "You tell me what is going on with you first" before I tell her anything about myself.  I think she may like to have it appear she is the helpful one, always helping poor family member like me.  In return I can do nothing for her, because she never tells anything, or reveals there is anything wrong.  For years, I have been in this tape recording loop with her, the same scene played over and over again.

This woman asks me more questions about my own grown children than I ASK THEM MYSELF!  WHY?   She does this, I believe to make herself, her own life seem OK.  She doesnt have to think about herself, her own woes, her messed up life, for lack of better term.

This family of mine, they are very good at deception.  They know how to "Keep up with the Jones'"  and make everyone believe all is fine in la-la land.

BAM!  I have struck.  I am not going to allow this any longer.   Everything is NOT OK.  It is not OK to interrogate me and my immediate family.  It is not OK to NOT share what is happening with your life,  family member.  I will NOW start asking you about WHY you have not been sleeping in the same room as your husband for the past 10 years, or however long its been going on!  BAM!  I will not pretend like your life is peachy keen.    And, if you want to know anything about me, you'd better start talking!  OR, we just wont have any relationship at all.

This somewhat ties into the whole craziness of my growing up time.  We all pretended that our family was OK.  For years my own family swept the craziness under the carpet, even flat out lied it ever happened years later.  We are now somewhat on the same page about what happened, we've lost some older members because they want to remain in that fantasy land.   I was treated like the crazy sister, the crazy aunt, the crazy daughter, for years.  It wasnt until just about 3 years ago that my niece and nephew found out about what really happened, and the reality of our lives.  Well, I doubt they really know the full truth, but close enough!    My family member seems to have told her own children lies, for years.  Made them believe, in a round about way, years of pretending, years of smoothing over ruffled edges, making them believe there was no alcohol abuse, no physical abuse, and that wonderful grandmother of theirs, she sat for over 10  years and allowed, watched this man she still calls her husband, terrorize me, physically abuse me.  Now, these two great kids feel sorry for this woman they call grandma.  Poor grandma, even though she "CHOSE" this life, even though she had no back bone to stop this man, and still allows him to abuse her today.   Funny how my kids feel differently.   Hmmm....wonder why?  Maybe its the years of crap we've taken from the grandma and grandpa.  I'd have to say the turning point was in 2002, when my own mother, when asked if we could stay with here for a short time to find a new place to live after losing our rental, told me to go live in a homeless shelter with me and my daughter heard her!   When asked about my husband, she basically said, who cares where he goes.  Or maybe just a short time ago, months before my dads stroke, on Mothers day.  Dad taking me out to the garage at my sisters house, me thinking he had something important to tell me.  Instead I was handed a hand written list, of items he and mom had purchased for me and my family.  Like birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, even money that was given.  Each of my children listed separately on his list.  I asked him, what is this?  In shock, I could hear my heart beating.   Once I realized he had no good answer, just some intimidation, and ugly words to make me feel less of a daughter.  I said you want me to pay you back this money, for presents you bought my kids?  He had no answer, and I walked away.  THIS is my nieces grandmother and grandfather.  And yes, the grandmother still goes along with this man, conspires with him, as she has always done.  The woman that never called me after I stopped bringing my child to her house in the mornings from far away.  She never once questioned why she never saw Austen again.  Then, just recently when discussed, she said she didnt know what I was talking about?  Really mom?   You had been my epileptic sons caretaker, my husband dropping him off some 2 hours away every day, yet when we stopped bringing him, you never questioned it?  Yet you have the nerve to tell me you knew nothing about your husband coming up to me on Austen's birthday and telling me, "Mary Anne's kids come first, find another person to watch Austen"  --  At my kids birthday party that ass tells me this.  Mom was sitting on the couch and acted like a beaten whimp, never had the guts to face me, yet instead lied about it years later, making me feel like the crazy one!

See the pattern, my awful "Fantasy land" pattern.  I have hoped and given these family members  different personalities, different histories.  Different realities, but it has to stop.  I cant pretend and continue in this deception that all is OK, and forgiven.  Because nothing has changed, my own mom is still being abused, denying that she is abused, or that she was his partner in this crime.  She still lies about what was done, and being done now.  I cannot change her, I cannot change how she feels inside.  I cannot make her love me, or my dad love me.  But I can focus on the fact that I always did want their love, and that I am worthy of it.  I just wish we could all sit down and be honest about WHATS REAL.  And stop pretending.   My niece posts a pic of her and my dad on Instagram.  I felt sick after reading her small description of her and dad.  Im still annoyed...they dont care for my dad, or maybe they have just been trained so well they just automatically write this la-la land, fairy tale "Fantasy" nonsense  that I've been conditioned to write and speak all of my life?

Fantasy for so many, hard to break the cycle.