Adopted kids have bad blood....

So, my sister texts me and asks if I wanted to "catch up."   We met late afternoon, had a glass of wine and a little bite of food.  We talked about what's currently happening in our lives.  She shared about the recent trip she took with her son and his wife who is pregnant.  I discussed our grandchildren and our plans for upcoming travel. 

I found myself feeling teary eyed as I confided in my sister that I had often wished that I could pick up the phone, and call mom.  I often pick up the phone to call mom,  and then I remember, that she has passed away.   I am somewhat falling apart as I tell my sister how I feel, now tears are running down my face.  

My sister, the woman who rarely shares anything of importance or "real" about her own life, her feelings, and her family, tells me, as I brush the tears from my eyes,  and as I am trying  to keep my composure, that mom would not be able to help you with your problems.  She stated that mom could never solve the problems between you and dad, what makes you think she could ever help you.     

It was like time had stood still as these words came out of my sisters mouth.  Again I told my sister  about often wanting to hear my mother's voice on the telephone, maybe she did not understand what I said, I thought?  Her facial expressions quickly changed, her tone of voice was telling  me how annoyed and angry she was truly  feeling, as though she was thinking,  "How dare you want my mother." As though I have no rights to call her my mother is what she could have been thinking?       Bam!   I hit the wall!   I was jolted back into reality again.   Just like that...the tears stopped, I woke up,  and quickly remembered who I was talking to!  

This woman sitting next to me,  I call my sister,  who "Pretends" that abuse was not served up  on a silver platter in our household, apparently it was only on my menu, is not a happy person!!  She wants to permanently sweep any evidence of abuse, both physical and emotional right into the large pile of dirt she has accumulated for the past 60 years.  My  God,  she's pretty much buried the truth of my life, the reality of our parents lives, six feet deep,  into its own grave!  

Just like that....just like that....ta-da....it's all gone!  Our parents have both passed away, and I guess shes lied about the reality of our parents her entire life, that she truthfully believes the lies she told herself and her own family and probably everyone else shes ever talked to over the years.   Those lies have become reality, for my sister and her children.  As time goes on, her grandchildren and great grandchildren will be fed these same lies I can only assume.  

When I said  that I wish I could talk to mom, have a conversation with her,  my sister feels threatened.  She quickly claims our mother as her own, and declares that our mother could not "Help me"  with any of "My problems" , as she could not help the "FANTASY" abuse that took place at the hands of both of my parents.   She did not say that, but what she did say was that our mother could not have helped me with the issues between dad and I.  See the difference, in her mind, I was the problem, and I am still the problem.  It was MY  problem with my dad, and it's  an unsolved problem between mom and I.  See how my sister has magically changed the reality of OUR family.  Oh, thats right, its not my family...ITS HERS!  Her mother was a saint, a person so kind and perfect, that God only knows shes been canonized a Saint.  Saint Mary, the woman who took part in the physical and emotional abuse of her adopted child.  Thats pretty neat, isn't it?  Such a kind thing to do, very saint like isn't it?  The child her husband did not want to adopt.  The husband  (and his mother) that felt adopting someone else's child, would not be "Their Blood" therefore I suppose this  meant  to all of them that the adopted child could be a monster, a thief, not trustworthy?   I really dont know what it meant to all of them , but that is what my own mother told me when I was a child, that my blood was an issue for my dad.  The words that came out of her mouth, the meaning was for me to figure out at age 9.  Gosh, I dont think it was a compliment, if dad did not want to adopt someone else's child that was not his blood, could only mean something negative?  Right?   The added bonus of abuse, being terrorized I actually call it, mixed with my bad blood, did not seem to be a winning combination for me?  Who would I go to and ask about this bad blood?      One could only come to the conclusion that adopted kids are bad, possibly hatched from an egg.  I was an ugly, dirty, bad girl...which is what I thought I was as a kid.  I dont think of myself  as bad, ugly, or dirty now, but the reality is, our family was 100% different than my sister pretends it was.  

So, my sister had to rear her ugliness at our "Catch up" get together.  That is not a surprise, not to me or my husband.  She always dishes out some sort of thinly veiled, backward jab with a smile on her face,  just barely showing just a little bit of her teeth.  A passive aggressive statement to somehow completely dismiss me as the daughter of her  mother, claiming our mother as her own.  

I have decided that I no longer need to catch up with my sister...I have already caught up.  I realize that adoption really  is a four letter word, a life sentence, even when ones adopted parents have gone up to heaven.  Leaving the fragmented remains of two women, one daughter  who feels she has all the rights to "Her"  parents and family, and the other woman, who has been left behind as some discarded piece of trash that is not even worthy of being able to long for her own mothers voice in a simple telephone conversation, stripped of the title of daughter in my sisters little, shallow cruel mind.   

I miss Mom

With all the exclusion, the dysfunction, heartache and sadness, I still miss mom.  

Im sad she never got to meet my granddaughters, her great granddaughters.  

She never got to tell me how she felt inside,  for the rest of my life I have to sit and guess how she really felt about me and a lot of other unresovled feelings I still have.  I have to investigate every moment we had together.  Maybe the truth is waiting for me to be found, somewhere?  Some days I can feel the burning inside of my chest, the tears well up in my eyes, and I have  the deepest, most unbearable ache I have ever felt, knowing I will never see her again.  

I did find voicemails mom  left on my old cell phone.  When I accidentally stumbled upon them I felt absolutey sick to my stomach, I felt hysterical inside.  She left me a lot of voicemails as her memory became much worse.  She would call me when I was on my way to see her as she  would forget that I was even coming.  I played the voicemails, I heard her voice,  and it was the most painful thing I've done since watching her take her last breath.   I listened to all of them, one by one, hoping to find the answers, maybe she said something of importance?   When alive, I kept waiting, day after day, for her to say something special to me, hoping she would give me the anecdote for the years of abuse I endured.   A secret I never knew, or something so earthshattering that I would be able to say, "I understand" and not feel this way another moment in my life.  

What did my life mean to mom?  Did she  find it hard to feel the same way for me as she did her own birth child?  It sure felt that way to me, and I was like a  little child, waiting on each and every word that came out of moms mouth.... up until she passsed away.   My heart wants to believe that she loves me, but the reality of it all was that she struggled to have those feelings for me, I felt it, my husband felt it, as well as our grown children.   They feel as though they grew up without a grandmother, and feel mom had no voice, no opinion,  and sadly...she did not.  She sat and allowed a lot of unfavorable things to happen,  to be honest there was a lot of things she did not do that hurt just as much.  These unfavorable things continued to happen up until she couldnt remeber much due to dementia.    

My sister had said to me before mom passed, that I had the issues regarding adoption, insinuating that I had the problem.  I stopped her in her tracks, I told her very bodly, that NO...I did not have the issues, it was moms and the rest of the family that had the issues.   Why else did all this ugliness  happen over the years, up until our niece got married recently?  After her weddding,  I checked out, I distanced myself from all of them both physically and emotionally as best as I could.  I had to see mom at my sisters house until she passed away,  so I had to keep things somewhat mellow.   I have to say here, that regardless if other family members refuse to recognize what they are saying and doing , exclusion stinks, its paralyzing, its past devastating.

I see what it's done to our grown children, they have endured more than their fair share of disappointents with this family.  They have all become so used to behaving this way, that it's normal to them.  And sadly I blame my parents for this.  Mom never had an opinion about anything and would say, everyone is different.  That was her way of saying she refused to step up to the plate and make things right within our family.  I still cant believe my nephews eulogy stated that my mom never did a wrong thing in her life.  It was then that I fully understood he, my niece and sister  did have a different grandmother/mother .  How do I continue within this family when I feel so deeply different than the rest of them?  I cant speak the truth around any of them.  I have to listen and keep quiet and have little to no words from my mouth.  I feel like this adoption sentence may last a lifetime if I don't find a way to unbury myself from the emotional wreckage I have been left with since mom has left this earth.  

Lost but not found

When I was found, I was almost 20 years old.    I blindly walked into reunion, expecting rainbows, ice cream cones, hugs and kisses.  I expected them all to love me, adore me, to want to know my entire life, play by play.  I was convinced they would want my precious keepsakes, like baby teeth I left out for the tooth fairy.  My blonde curls my mom cut and preserved in the family bible.  I thought reunion was going to be like "going home."  They would all understand me, think like me, and would teach me how to cook all the special secret family recipes I missed all those years. 

Meeting the families, I quickly realized something was just not quite right.    Why was everyone staring at me with confusion?  One grandma looked horrified and the other was scanning through my baby pictures to see if there was a resemblance.  That is what it looked like to me.  Then my one grandma asks for a nitro glycerin.  OK, I thought to myself, something is definitely not right, and now that grandma is popping a pill while looking at my baby pictures, its a confirmation!  

She starts to cry, something to the effect of, oh my baby, while looking at my baby pictures.   That is what I remember, I could be wrong, but it was for sure a distressed situation.  Looking back, I can now see the unspoken debate that was going on between all the adults.  My birth mom was somewhat amused, and everyone else seemed frantic, and the chaos of everyones emotions was very apparant to me.   My birth mom walked me to my car and I asked her, what is going on?  She gave me some ridiculous story that left me even more confused.   That was a long drive home, alone, with my thoughts.  For 20 years I had waited for this moment, my heart felt heavy, and I knew I wasn't getting ice cream, or cooking lessons,  the hugs and kisses didn't seem too promising.

I didnt know the truth behind my adoption, but I figured it was not going to be the truth I was told by my parents.    I heard a couple different stories, your birth  parents loved you so much but couldnt care for you.  My dad told the story of how I was picked out in the store, he'd  point to the imaginary wall and say, "This baby, no this baby" like they were shopping for a new toaster.   

I was pretty shocked when my birth mom sent me photos of herself and family,  in the mail.  I was expecting her to be a blonde, I had no idea she was part Lebanese.  She now likes to say I knew, but I did not know. I had a paper with non identifying information that really equaled nothing.

I did not receive anything from my birth dad in the mail, but I later spoke to him and we met alone.  I cannot deny the fact that I was so nervous, I was just a kid. 

The truth as I now see it, is a variation of different stories I have heard from different family members throughout the years.  My birth mom became pregnant with me.  She was dating (now confirmed) birth dad.  At some point in time, she wrote a letter to another boy she liked.  Saying something like, she didnt think his parents would allow him to marry her, so shes going to have now confirmed birth dad marry her.  But in this letter she tells this other boy, she cant wait for "Their" bundle of joy.   Probably the most disturbing story I have heard in all these years is the one my birth mom told me after we met.  She tells me her best friend came over,  she sat in boiling hot baths and used a coca cola douche, let your imagination decide what they were trying to do.

So at one point early in reunion, I went out to dinner with my birth dad, his mom and the family.  I was asked what blood type I was, at this point I really was not sure what was going on.  My birth mom has not been the most trusted source, in all these years, but she was very crafty and cunning throughout this whole ordeal.   She was smart, did not tell me the story, instead let me suffer and it took years for me to really understand completely what was going on. 

It wasn't until 2016 when my daughter somewhat forced me into doing Ancestry DNA.   She ordered the test and had it shipped to me.  Weeks went by, and I stared at that test, and finally after weeks of my daughter calling and asking me if I spit in that darn thing, I had the nerve to actually do it.  I sealed the box and dropped it off at the post office.  Then I started wondering to myself, what if my birth dad is not oneof the two men that I was told about ?  What if he's someone else, what then?  Weeks went by  and I was so anxious waiting for the results.  My daughter had already done the Ancestry DNA test and had her results.  I was driving to the grocery store and it hit me,  I can figure out the answer via her DNA results.  I went home and searched through her DNA results.  TA-DAA!    There it was, the answer to the question I have wondered about for 35 years.  

I decided to wait until my own DNA results to come in to tell anyone, even though I knew the man I had met was 100% my dad. 

Let me tell you, getting my DNA results was a  liberating moment for me.  Not knowing who fathered you for 52 years is a big deal.   I beg to differ with all those people who think I did it for revenge or some other stupid reason.  I did it for myself, I wanted to know my heritage and  I think every person should know this basic information, its their birth given right. 

OK, off my soap box!  But seriously, if it were not for modern science and DNA testing linking me to DNA matches who have extensive family trees, I would still not know the answer today. 

Adoption and exclusion

I'd like to say I was not adopted, that I was born to my mom and dad. It really would be wonderful, so much easier and less heartbreaking for me.    Time ticks away, the days pass by, I wake up, go to bed and another year has passed and nothing has changed.  It has been said for many years, oh there is no difference if your adopted,  we feel the same about you as the child [we gave birth to].  I sometimes can keep up the charade and pretend there is no difference.  Until there is a difference and those differences are practically shoved down my throat by those telling me there is no difference!

How can I continue to pretend there is no difference ?   My only sister, who's only daughter excludes my daughter from her wedding activities, they have grown up together.  They have spent every important moment together over the past 27 years, I video taped her birth, .  The exclusion is so overwhelming to me, I cannot breathe.  I am questioning the relationships within my family,  and I finally spoke up and told my sister it is dreadfully wrong and mean what her daughter has done.  Nothing will ever be the same, and unfortunately that is the truth.  I told my mom how I felt, she has no opinion, she doesnt want to take sides.  There are no sides!  She seems sad, but not sad enough to have a voice and speak up!    My niece has made comments over the years, probably without my sisters knowledge but nonetheless, it happened.  "Who is your mom anyhow" when discussing who looks like whom within our family . Does not take a brain surgeon to realize my children cannot look like my parents or their relatives, however my niece and nephew do look like them. DUH!   Its just a fact of life.  No fault of mine, or my children, yet I cant help but think this has been discussed within their family which is why she has said these things to me over the years and excluded my daughter.   Now she is getting married, and I did believe things were OK , the kids are all grown and I really thought my niece was different!!!

I realized I was wrong, my beliefs about how the others in my family feel for me and my family are brutally wrong.  Its a harsh and ugly reality, the most ugly feeling I have felt.  I planned my nieces engagement party last Thanksgiving, spent weeks hand painting signs and making custom napkin rings with their photo, along with a custom engagement photo book.  I was so excited, the first kid to get married in our family.

Turns out it is not exactly my family.  Its their family, and that is exactly how we all feel.  We debated about attending the wedding shower, but we went because as my daughter said, we do whats right.  Walking into the wedding shower I quickly realized most these women did not know my sister even had a sister.  I was not introduced, and went to the hostess and introduced myself.  She said, and I quote, "Oh my God, I didnt know {my sister} had a sister."  She went on to say that she did not see a photo of me anywhere,  I took the time to have many pictures printed for my sister to frame and place around the wedding shower.  The hostess was correct, not a single picture of me, anywhere.

BAM!  Slug in the gut, slap in the face, I am falling off a cliff, down down down down I go, spiraling out of control.  I hold it together long enough to make it through the shower.  However I know the maid of honor, the hostess' daughter.  I picked that girl up the next morning after many high school parties.  When my daughter and I arrived at the shower, rang the doorbell, another birdesmaid we know answered the door.  She pretended not to know us, did not recognize us!  The rude bridesmaids and maid of honor could not bring themselves to speak to us, I know we must seem like some other species, not human. That is how we felt.  My kids know many of these bridesmaids as they all went to the same schools throughout their lives. 

The difference is huge, so big that it has divided our families.  My sister has told me that it does not matter what I wear to the wedding when I discussed wanting to blend with her and mom.  Said I can wear a cocktail dress if I want to, I'm not part of the family so it doesnt matter.   I have realized throughout all of this, I am just a guest.  I cannot tell you how badly this has broken me, my heart, my soul, and to be honest it has blown me away so badly I dont even know how much damage this has done yet!   And I am still trying to sort out how I could have been so wrong, how I could have believed that my sister and her family loved me and considered me their family.

All I know is that if adoption did not exist, I would not be blogging and going to therapy.  They go about their day, as though nothing is wrong, and they really have no desire to apologize or make things right, if they even know there is a problem?????.  My daughter and I did receive a long text from my niece, she sounded like she was writing a letter to one of her clients, trying to win an account.  As I have said many times, your actions speak louder than your words.

The lost bond of adoption

As time goes by and my birthday candles keep increasing, I realize there is one thing I cannot escape.   There is no anger or resentment, only a bit of sadness left as I realize there is nothing I can do to change "what is."  

Its a life sentence I have been given, a lesson to learn, again and again,  and at times I feel I have mastered the whole mess!   But some days, like today,  it seems too large of a cross to bear,  and I feel the strength I've built up, to escape the anger...weakening.  I feel weak today.   Something happens, a look in my moms eyes , a touch, a gesture,  a small sentence spoken that makes my heart skip a beat.  Time stands still,  its like an out of body experience,  everything is moving in slow motion, and I want to  take a picture, and show them "this right here" is what I am missing.  I don't get that same look, I don't get the same touch or gesture, or the deep love in that small sentence.    So many people overlook, don't appreciate, or even recognize that "Belonging" is such a gift.  The bond created when a mother gives birth, gets the privilege of keeping her baby is overwhelmingly different.   Different than that bond  of an adopted child.  There really is a language they speak to one another, when the bond is not broken.  

Nobody can tell me differently, if I could capture the moment, I would.  I could show you, prove to the world I have been cheated.  I deserve to allow myself to grieve, but I also deserve to never feel like this again.  I don't want this feeling another day, another minute or even second of my life.  But I also cannot deny the existence of what I see.  I know that touch, I know that gesture, and the secret language that is spoken between a mother and her children.  I experience that with my own children.  

In time I will learn to accept what I cannot change. 

I don't need this mother

Lesson learned.  Cannot trust those that are not blood related, except my own husband.

My help, my opinion, not needed nor are they interested in knowing it.

I am not trustworthy, they feel.  I cannot be responsible for anything important, except for parent sitting when said relative decides to take our mother and her sister  to a play.   I then, can be responsible for 10 hours, and oh, don't forget that dinner I was reminded to plan in advance so when they arrive back from the play, they can eat!  Because this relative of mine stated she has to work the next day, so she does not want to be at our parents house all night long!  Oh, excuse me.  Oh, and don't forget to get the ingredients for whatever your cooking, although our aunt had mentioned she loves pizza, and maybe a salad, because you won't be able to leave dad alone while we are gone!   I guess I'm also an idiot, and have not raised 3 children, and somehow have forgotten how to cook...even though I am the one who usually does most of the cooking and baking at all our holidays over the years.    Maybe they should just kick me in the rump and slap me in the face too.   Gets better, I was also told to watch dad while my sister and mom took my aunt to the airport.

So this is how its going to be from this point forward.  I will not go back to moms house unless I am asked, very nicely.  I will never be anyone's maid, cook, or be used again.

The past year I have scrubbed pee off carpets, scrubbed floors, changed beds, cleaned house, laundry, windowsills all in the name of helping mom whiled dad  is dying.  Now, I see that my help, even though it was accepted, was not wanted.  Wow, do I feel like a fool.  I guess when I volunteered to put eye drops in my dads eyes and my mom would not trust me to do this, I should have gotten a clue!

My relatives forgot to let me know that a supposed important person in my life, my own mother, was going back to the cardiologist yesterday.   Mind you I took her to countless doctor appointments in prior months, kept my lovely sister in the loop every step of the way.   And my own mother is going in for an ultrasound on Monday for her carotid arteries, something that slipped their minds.  As usual, I get a call many hours later from my mother, she left a message, once she realized that I somehow was forgotten in her plans.  Oh, gee, I was not needed to baby sit my dad, or schlep her to the doctors, so I guess that is why I was forgotten.   If I had not asked my sister about something, I never would have known.   I am their last thought, and to be honest, I am sick of this.  I cannot and will not do this again to myself.

This same thing happened when my mom went in for the actual procedure a few months ago, I had spent days at her house, each week, taking her to tests, appointments, etc, and when it came time, my sister arrived,  and told me I was baby sitting my dad and she was taking mom.  The next day after moms procedure, they both got up, got dressed, said nothing to me and off they went, for 3 hours and left me with my dad.

What other conclusion can I come to?  Im important enough when I am taking care of dad all day and night and cook them dinner, so they can go see a play, but when my services are not needed, I am kicked to the curb, my feelings not important,  keeping me informed, not important to them.  I am the last person they think of.  Im just free maid service.  

Sad, heck yeah.  But as my dear husband said yesterday after work, "I don't mean to make you feel bad or mad, but you don't need a mother" - that really hit me between the eyes.  He is right, I do not need this mother, because she is not my mother.  She is a woman, that took someone else's baby, and does not have the same feelings for this baby as she does her own.  Nothing can be done about it, its not my fault, its just is.

Don't tell me I'm too emotional

I have to pull up my skirt, I have to stop this craziness.   My mom needs me to help her right now, and I have to step up and move into her house and be there for her, until my dad dies.

Can I do this?  Can I ?  Can I help her without feeling like I want to go running through the streets pulling my hair out?

I texted my sister, she is on a trip with her daughter.  As though this trip is so important, she tells me she cannot talk to me about (mom) she is "Trying to have fun."   Oh, wow, sorry.

Remind you, I have rheumatoid arthritis, I have zero pain relief and I somehow find the strength to spend countless days at moms.   She, on the other hand feels that when she is on a trip, a trip that has very little meaning , that she is not to be bothered by things like our mom not making sense, and firing my dads caretaker. (dad is at home in hospice)

This is where my feelings of being that dirty, unwanted kid come in.  My feelings, my opinion and concern for our parents is not of worth to her.   She gets to decide what happens to [her] parents.  Shut up Cathy, we don't want to hear your ideas, your worries, your concerns.  That is what she is saying when she tells me she cannot talk about this [now] because she is trying to have fun!  When she shuts me up and says that what I have experienced is not real, it did not happen!  This is why I have resorted to video taping things that happen at our parents house.

Sorry, but this is pure insanity in my opinion.  Your trying to have fun?  Give me a #&$(% break.

Yeah, I know this could happen in any family.  But this is not any family.

The question still remains, do I continue to push my way into this?  Do I help my mom & dad?  Or should I back off and allow my sister, their birth child to make all the decisions?  It seems I am looked at as being too emotional.  Even though my mom cannot remember what was discussed just 5 minutes ago, I guess I am over reacting. She is living alone, with my dad who is dying.  She has fired now her 2nd caretaker for my dad, who is blind, cannot do anything for himself, and mom is a train wreck.  She can barely take care of herself, and her health is not good.  She is not making wise choices, and telling me she does not have the money for a caretaker.  She does have the money!  Got so mean she basically hung up on me, and let me tell you her sister called me worried as well.  Saying that she was not making sense.

I think my sister wants to be in the drivers seat.  She wants to make the decisions, my opinion and feelings do not matter.   On the outside, everyone thinks that adoption is no big deal.  I am so lucky to have been adopted by this wonderful family.  Nobody really wanted you, so your lucky.  It amazes me at age 50, that I am still having this conversation.  That I feel like I'm still second guessing my position.  Are these really my parents?  Should I be able to step in and make decisions on my own regarding their well being?  The answer my friends, is NO.  My opinion, my feelings mean nothing.  I really am that unwanted, unloved kid found in the shopping cart, or found on the side of the road, left because I am too stupid, or not cute enough, or not clever enough to have any sense, not enough worth to make a reliable decision.

If adoption did not make a difference, if being the adopted daughter was not an issue,  why is this happening?  My sister would not be talking to me this way, and arguing about what our mother is doing.  Refusing to admit that our mother is not mentally well and needing a dementia screening.

I have not decided how to handle this, but maybe I will have to just push these awful feelings aside and do the right thing, and live with my parents and take care of them.  I really need to do this, to prove to myself that I can, that I CAN love unconditionally.    I should be able to do this, I could do it for a stranger, I can do it for my parents.  Regardless if they love me and adore me or not.

I will always long for my mom

As a little girl I always tried to force mom to be close to me, I'd sit in her lap, I remember laying on the couch with her.  Remember the game kids play, you put the bottom of your feet on the other persons feet, and pretend your riding a bike?  I always laid with her, even though she was in a bad state at the time.  Looking back I didn't get what I wanted.   I don't think I thought that way at the time, I did not realize that I wasn't getting what I wanted or that it was not possible.  But as years went by and I grew up, I just know I did not trust women, or want to be close to women like the closeness shared by a mother and child.

I took care of my mom, behind closed doors.  On the other side of the door she was a nurse, taking care of others.  But when I had her, I was the nurse.  That is how it felt to me.  It was my job to make sure she didn't somehow die, and I was there to comfort her when she was crying. I'm not really blaming her for this, she was unhappy and did not have the tools to make it better for herself.  She still doesn't have the tools.   To be honest, she did cook, and clean.  She did not take care of herself, though.  She did not care what she really looked like, as far as her hair and clothing.  She has never worn a stitch of make up.  She used to care, I have the pictures to prove it, before she was married and shortly after.  Cute clothes and make up were part of her daily routine.

I'm not sure what this does to a kid, having a mother that does not show affection.  My old friends tell me I was quiet as a kid, never said much, but I was kind and always shared my lunch if someone did not have one.  I did not get mad and mean until my teenage years.   Mom did make my lunch, she was so worried about what others would think, at age 83 she is still worried about what others think!   But I know how I feel now, about the years of my life spent longing for what I've never received...it has tried to take over my life and heart.  

Its strange, because I have a relationship with my mom, now.  But its not what it should be, we can never fix what is broken.  I realize this now, but in all honesty it does not make it any easier.  I still long to have what I cannot have.  I know I'm repeating myself.  But I want to give myself permission to grieve what I cannot have in this lifetime.  And watching my sister so attached to mom makes it somehow harder.  I see that she really cares for mom differently than I do.  She received what I did not receive from this woman we call our mom.  With hesitation I say I love you.  Knowing that I do not have the same love for her as I do my husband or children.  I do not love her as I should.  I feel guilt about this, and I feel shame.  I cannot make myself love her as I should.  I have tried again and again.  I want to, so badly.   This years Mother's Day the pain in my heart was not as bad, so I think I may have achieved some relief, forgiven myself a little for not feeling how I should for mom.

But I know I will keep trying and trying, in hopes that something will ignite inside of me, and I will all of a sudden feel that click in my head and feel differently.  It does not come, that click.  I feel disappointed, I feel sad, and I lick my wounds and time passes by.

But I thought telling mom about my blog, and how I felt about a lot of what she has done over the past 50 years would make that click come.  It did not.  Instead it made her look more tired and old.  In turn I felt guilty when I saw her on Mothers Day, after spending one week away from her house.  I'm usually at her house every week, helping her with dad.  She is slowing down, and seems worn out.   Its sad that she has refused to attend counseling with me, I suggested it many times.   I'm realizing she will never go, because that would mean allowing someone to know the truth of her life, the abuse and neglect, the awful life she has lived with a man she does not like.   She talks to people she does not know and tells them lies about how her life is, paints a picture of the perfect family, perfect everything.  It almost makes me sick, her deception.   The truth cannot be exposed, and keeping that truth hidden is more important to mom than having a relationship with me, or my children, in this lifetime.

Another Mothers Day

I figured a way to get through it, even though I have my children and my amazing husband.  Not that my boys are great at sentiment, but I got a great dinner cooked for me.  I feel blogging helped me get to the place I'm at now .

We celebrated with my mom on Saturday.  My sister and I took her to lunch.  It was nice, it was hard but I managed to make it through.   

I had meant to pick out a card at Target while I was there earlier in the week, I even procrastinated printing a picture out for the frame I bought.   My husband dropped me off at my sisters house, and on the way I picked up a card at Hallmark.  WOW, swoosh, kicked in the gut as I read the Mothers Day cards from a daughter.  Panic time, I started sweating, looking around to see if anyone was watching me furiously picking up cards, reading the first sentence, and putting it back.   My husband was waiting in the car, as I read faster and faster.  Mad at myself for somehow conveniently forgetting to pick one out at Target.   I had to convince myself that it was OK to pick out a card that was not completely true.  That it didn't matter, not really.  So I picked a card, that talked about how important a mothers love is.  I should have made my own card, picked a picture from years ago and cut, pasted and decorated it, allowing me to just say, "Happy Mothers Day" instead.  

I signed the card, "Love Cathy" and felt unsure.  Love.  Love is a big word.  Again talked myself into feeling OK inside, thinking it doesn't matter what I really feel.  Its just a card.  

The day went by, no major issues.  We did some shopping.  My sister bought some pants.  I bought some shoes.  We had our waiter take a picture of the three of us.  I cannot deny the fact that I was glad the day was over, when it was over.   The picture is good, in my opinion.  I tried to scoot down to look smaller.  My sister is a clone of my mom.  Even their body type, their skin, hair, etc.  Not everything is the same.  I did not feel super exposed, like I was the 3rd wheel this time.  I think its about how I feel inside, not because of what they have said or done.  Simple things maybe others would not even notice to begin with.  I told mom about my blog, and about some of the things I feel inside which are a result of years of trials.  I think telling her has taken its toll on her, and although I realize she does know these things already, they have not been taken out of the dust pan and looked at.  So in a way, its like she doesn't know what "IS."  Its important that I tell her how I feel, and to talk about the reasons why our relationship has been strained for my entire life.  Again, she does know these truths, but she has hidden them from herself, and pretended all is OK for so long, its difficult to grasp whats real when you've lied for so long.  

I will always long for my mom.  A woman that brushes my hair, adores me and makes me feel as though I am the most important thing in her life.  How I have always wanted her to choose me, instead of others.  Quite an irony, that I was chosen, and still at age 50 yearn to be chosen.  I wish there was a way to go back in time,  for her to take back all of the things that have happened, and to change the current status of our relationship.   The behaviors I've dealt with continue today, so its an on going struggle.  

At some point I'll have to forget it

I think its coming, that place you get to when nothing matters any longer.   At some point you have to desensitize yourself from the entire situation, and look at things as though you are an outsider, looking in.  Just a friend from up the street.

Mom sat across the kitchen table from me last week, stating she doesn't know exactly what she did to me over the years and does not have an excuse for what she does remember.

For example:  When my oldest son was little, my parents watched him because he is an epileptic.    On his 2nd birthday my dad came up to me and told me that my sisters kids come first, and we'd have to find someone else to watch our son.   My sister had another baby and my mom was very involved with both of  her kids.  She was driving out to help my sister regularly, even though my sister was not working like my husband and I.  So one day we stopped taking our son to  my parents house, yet we never heard a word from mom.  She did not tell me she wanted to stop watching Austen, but my dad told me it was over and done with.  We never did hear a word from mom, ever.  One would think she'd pick up the phone and call me and ask, "Where is Austen" - something from mom.  Because she never called, or asked where he was and why we stopped bringing him, we were certain  she was part of this decision.

OK, so I asked mom last week, why she did this?  And explained that years of this type of behavior have contributed to how and why myself, my husband and children don't feel as warm and fuzzy about her and my dad as my sister and her kids feel!  My mom spent most of her time with my sister and her kids.  And it was so bad during the time my kids were in grammar school that one time I went to the grocery store in my town and there was my mom and dad getting out of the car with my sister and her family!  Mom lives quite a distance away!  My sister lived close to me.  I never heard a word from mom or dad, didn't even know they were in town.  They  came out to attend my nieces dance recital.  Wow, that left me feeling like I had been kicked in the stomach, there I went...falling down, down, down, spiraling out of contrl as I drove home trying to make sense of what just happened.  We were supposedly such a close family.  

My moms response to why she decided that my sisters kids come first was,  a blank stare.  No response.  She does not have a reason for why she has behaved this way for most of my life.  She can't explain why she went along with my dad, chose this man over me to the point of alienating me.   I explained to her because she chose him, and abandoned me for years, I have different feelings for her.   She did not have a response.  I asked her why she has done this to me for all of my life, she said "I don't know."

What do I do with this response?  She cannot explain why she has done this to me my entire life.  She states that she always loved me, and felt the same about me as she did my sister.  I actually told mom, "I want to believe you - but I don't."  How could she leave me and my son like that?  And 26 years later pretend it never happened?  My son with epilepsy is the 2nd born out of all the kids between my sister and I.  It wasn't until my sister had her 2nd child I was told that her kids come first.

There are so many unspoken, and unresolved issues between mom and I,  its probably reasonable to say they will never get resolved.  I told mom we could go to counseling, she did not respond.

Years ago we lost our lease because our landlord sold the town home we had planned on buying, we couldn't find a place to live, it was summer time and our oldest was in middle school, and the other kids were in grammar school.  The infamous summer when my own mom told me to go live in a homeless shelter with my kids, after asking if we could stay with her until finding another rental.  This was talked about last week too, mom denying she ever said that to me.  For the first time I called her out on this.  All 5 of us ended up staying in our motorhome at my brother in laws house in the middle of summer, the heat was triple digits.   It was hell, and our son was having seizures and crying all the time, none of us slept much that summer.  My mom had the nerve to drive out to my brother in laws house, look over our living situation and conditions, and never offered to let us stay with her even after that.  I asked her last week how she could do such a thing to me, and that I would NEVER do this to my child, regardless of their age.  My mom ladies and gentlemen, did not have an answer or reason.

Its almost like my mom has no credibility,  like she is literally checked out, and has been checked out of life since I can remember.    She has been brainwashed, is what I told her, by my dad.  A man she has not liked and  wanted to divorce since I was a kid.  She somewhat agreed, but cannot for the life of her change her life.  Her life is the same, nothing has changed, and sadly I think she will remain in this situation in this lifetime.  

My life, The Truman Show....

I wasn't adopted by a corporation, but after mom told me last week that it was my dads sperm that were the problem that kept them from having another baby, I've been in deep thought.

So much has been said in this past week, as my dad told us that he doesn't want to continue to live once he is totally blind, and that is something that is coming any day.

It makes sense why he has never liked me or wanted me.  Maybe he did while I was cute and couldn't really communicate.

It also makes sense why mom never fully bonded with me.  She wanted to adopt and dad did not.  So liking and loving me meant betraying her husband.

She always chose him, instead of me.

I'm not sure what this means to me, exactly.  I just know mom told me she wishes she could go back and make other choices, even though her life is exactly the same today as it was back then.  She still refuses to make different choices with my dad now.

Can I believe what she says?  I'm not sure?  Does it matter?  Where do I fit in to this family, and why can't all of us talk about it, with real meaning and stop pretending it doesn't exist?

auto pilot

Thats how my life is.  Around my parents and sister & her family.  Auto pilot.   Whats been taught and just about beat into me as a kid, just automatically happens.  Cathy, the good girl.  That is who I'm supposed to be.  Its awful to think that Cathy, the adoptee, could or would be bad.  Choose to do something wrong.   Its much more "Wrong, or shocking"  when an adoptee does something...bad.  In their eyes.

Its not just with regards to the family, its much more widespread.  Your so afraid of being bad just from being born, that you live your whole life second guessing each and every move you make.

Thinking that you will be judged, as the bastard kid that nobody wanted.   You think to yourself, a lot of stuff that I'm guessing other kids never think.

So theres this story I want to share.  One that is just unfolding now.  Today.  This week.

My parents health is failing.   Long story short, it was told to my moms sister,  to contact my sister, not me, to get the updates regarding moms health.  I guess I am not a reliable source.  I am not trust worthy like my counterpart.  The child they gave birth to.

When does the stupidity end?  When will these people get their heads out of foreign places and smell the fresh air and become human?

Because I was not born from this woman's body does not make me a gremlin.  A monster.

Because I was abused by my own mothers husband, yes my dad, I am considered to be unreliable.  Because I am not blood.   That automatically makes me a trespasser, someone you cannot trust.

My moms sister told me what my own mother said to her this week.  Don't contact Cathy, contact ......and named my sister.

What does this mean?

I am so over fighting to find my place.  To prove that I am worthy, that I am good.

In two months I will be 50.  I think its safe to say this will never end.  The stupidity will continue, and I will never, ever, get what I want.  Its just not in the cards for me.

Having your mom is important

I cannot express enough in words how important it is for (a girl) to have her mom.  I dont doubt its important for a boy as well, I just happen to be a girl!

In analyzing my relationship with my own daughter I realize all that I have missed with my own mom.  I mean I already knew there were major differences, its just that life happens, and we live it, and then one day we say, hey, wait a minute!  Hold on!  Im not even going to enter my birth mom into this mix.  The birth woman has never said "I love you" or tried to be part of my life, or acted like any mother I've known.

I could sit here and type all of the things I did not get.  And all of the good things I did get.

But its not about the stuff.  Its about the feelings associated with the good stuff, those special moments, the wonderful memories you remember your entire life.  And, the feelings associated with the yuck, ugly stuff.

One of the major differences between my sister and I.  She adores my mom, I see it all the time.  She has actually made comments about how lucky we are to have such a great mom.  I sit in silence, no real response for her.  Sure she's a pretty darn good person.  But apparently we've had different mothers all these years!  

Notice I said person, not mom.  She is a good person.  She just isnt the greatest  mom to me.  I'd have to say in all honesty, being brutally honest, that she has been a pretty good mom to my sister.  Wow, that was hard to admit.

What does this mean?  Does she not like me as much as my sister?  Or did she not bond with me the same as my sister?   I dont know the real answer, only how I feel and what I have observed most of my life.  I dont think she is aware of this so I doubt I will ever get an answer.

Carrying a baby for all those months, childbirth and bonding.  All of these things make a difference.  So you have your baby, the baby looks like your family....another difference.  Similar personalities, another difference.  Oh, and I always hear from people,  a story about  their own family, how this sister or brother was so different and didnt look the same or act the same as them or anyone in their family.  Uh, yeah, but nope, that brother or sister had his/her mom, right?  So...the point is...it is not the same.  

I feel this difference all the time.  Its like the family dance I'm not part of, that I've blogged about before. They are all speaking a language I dont understand.   I dont have the same feelings for my mom that I have for my own daughter and the urgency and bond with mom as I do with my own children.  I realize I am the daughter in this relationship with my mom, but I should feel similarly.  Right?  I should have the same enthusiasm and desire my sister has with mom and vice versa.  I know I should but I cant make it happen and neither can mom.

It is not my fault I feel this way.  I dont even know if its moms fault either.   In 1965 there wasnt the proper counseling to cope with loss of fertility or how to cope with a macho husband who had the issue of not being able to produce baby #2.  I do understand this intellectually, I just dont understand it emotionally.    

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 .

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.

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.

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 up...so 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 you....no....ok....then 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.  OK...so 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 bond...like 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.  

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.

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.