its important to examine the past

My birth mom found me when I was 19, in November of 1984.   She contacted my mom and talked to her first.  I was not living at home at the time.

My parents anniversary is in November as well.  

This same year, in November of 1984 was also the last time my dad physically hit me.

It wasn't until just recently I realized why he had this huge blowout, meltdown, and came charging down the hall and punched me in the face, twice.

I had no idea why he did this, he and mom had been shopping for antiques that day.  Came home and I showed up and next thing I know, dad is running down the hall and  I'm almost knocked out.

He must have gone {more] crazy that she had found me and there was an upcoming reunion?

We met the next month, in December and my dad was trying to fix up the house, he actually put up the shutters on the outside of the house he had previously taken down in one of his paranoid rages.  I guess at the time, being 19, I did not give it much thought.  But for him to do this, meant he wanted to make a good impression, and the house looked so bad from him ripping out all of the plants in our front yard, putting up security bars on every window and taking down the cute shutters around the windows.

HUGE LIGHT WENT OFF IN MY HEAD when I realized the timing of my dads blowup.  Here I was, just a kid and I was expected to endure this man cold cocking me in the face twice while sitting down, and expected to know why! Nothing had happened, that I could think of, we hadn't even spoke that day!    If he really was upset about my birth mom finding me, why didn't he just sit down and say he was upset, or worried or something?  And for heavens sake, why was he upset anyhow?  This is the same man that would tell me to stay away from his daughter (my sister) saying that I was not his daughter, while pushing me aside.  He didn't give a darn how I felt, obviously not even after birth mom found me.  Just about knocking me out, at the time and for all these years I thought he did this because of his hatred towards me.

I got up from my chair, pushed him as hard as I could, I was stunned, and he was pretty heavy at the time and I was a mere size 2 if that.   I went storming for the telephone.  I screamed, that I was calling the police and having him arrested.  Mom started crying, saying it was her anniversary, and she didn't want dad to go to jail.  I screamed out loud,  that he would never hit me again, this was the last time.  And I meant it.  Its funny in those days we had the home phone on a super long cord so you could walk around the house with it and talk.   I remember pacing around with the phone in my hand,  ready to dial the police.

Amazing I ever spoke to him again, writing this blog it amazes me that I continued to act out the motions of being the daughter and sister in this family.   Mom even lied about it happening after the fact, made it out to be something different than it really was.  All I knew was that I got punched, while sitting down at the kitchen table, looking at antiques mom had just bought.   There was no way of changing this story into something different!

Whats sick is, mom probably knows why it happened to begin with.  She lived with him, and I guarantee he was spouting off at the mouth about my birth mom coming to meet us.  No way was he quiet about it, just not his style.

During our reunion time I had driven down to the Orange County area to see the birth families on my own, after the initial meeting with my birth mom & full brother at my parents house.  My dad had screamed at me to never talk to him again, that basically I could change my name and take theirs and never have anything to do with him again.  He was fine with this.  As though it was all my fault they chose adoption.

It amazes me, that it has taken all these years to figure this out.  This November it will be 31 years since this happened!  I'd like to say that none of this matters, but that would be sweeping it under the carpet and allowing it to build and build until one day it would come busting out of the seams.  Really understanding and believing that I was and still am a good girl, a nice girl, is important to me.  For years I thought I was seriously defective, a bad girl, and that it was my fault that neither of my parents loved or cared about me.

I cannot tell you what a revelation it was figuring this out.  I bet there are many other incidents in my life, like this I have yet to figure out.

Daughter annoyed by birth moms "Thank You" card

My daughter came home from college to visit this past week, and I showed her the "Thank You" card I received from my birth mom for sending her a Christmas card.  I asked her what she thought.

I handed her the card, and she quickly gave it back to me saying she could not read it, she had seen enough and it was ridiculous that she would send me a "Thank You" card in turn for sending her a Christmas card.   She did not want to know what else she wrote, she somewhat shushed me up.

She is right, its strange that she sent me this card, and I wish I understood her purpose.  She's not written me in years,  has never sent the kids birthday cards, or Christmas cards to us, so why this card?

Why not an apology letter instead?  Apologizing for betraying me?  Clearly she has no plan on sending me that type of card or she would have done it by now.    How about a simple card, saying just "Sorry" - asking to move forward and forgive her.   30+ years into reunion, you'd think this would be easy for her to do, apologize and realize what she's done. I met her when I was 19, and I'm turning 50 on June 8th this year.

Its almost ironic that she wants to believe that I am the crazy one, point the finger at me for what she has done over the years.  Make me into the one that has caused all the problems.  Wish she'd get real, wake up, and take responsibility for her actions.  I have apologized for being mad, in turn, for her craziness.  There is not much more I can do...to make her realize what she has done.  Sometimes I imagine just shaking her, slapping her face and telling her to wake up.  I have even suggested many times to go to counseling.  But honestly, when a person refuses to face themselves, for whatever the reason and can easily betray their own daughter, telling others she is mentally ill and a liar, then I honestly doubt I can shake her back into reality.  This is work she has to do on her own.

Maybe the card is the first step?  Or maybe she just wants something from me?

"Get over it"

Who do others say this so often?  "Get over it."  Is this how we, as a society have been taught to process our loss, grief and emotions?

Not allowing us to ever process it, by being told, just get over it and in my own opinion, just shut up I dont want to hear you...is what they mean.

And how do we "Get over it" I'd like to know when these brilliant people demand we do this?  Any suggestions?  Find God, pray, join a club, move on....the options are endless.

This is why our children are the same as us, and the cycle continues, never broken are the chains, our loss, grief and whatever else you want to add to the list.

I think its somewhat sad, that society expect babies & children to be born of another woman, to  be taken away, raised with other people and then expects them to have zero issues, questions, or loss and grief.  Thats like saying we dont, as a society know that cigarettes are bad for our health, cause possible fetal damage when pregnant.  We know it, its talked about, and agreed upon.  Why is it then, that adoption is swept, right under the carpet, with so many arguments?  WHY?

So I was born to this woman, and then taken away, yet nobody is supposed to have a problem down the line?  Really?  Why is it that some people in this year in time when all you gotta do is speak into a cell phone to get directions  cant accept that adoption automatically brings loss and grief.  When I speak about it with my own family, you'd think that I had just grown an alien head.   Is it that far fetched to think that adoption brings such loss for everyone involved?

Loss of fertility for the adoptive parents, who sometimes would like to pretend the word fertility doesnt even exist or that they couldnt have their own baby is really no big deal.  Yeah right!  Or that someone like me,  taken away at birth, that I would not have any recollection of this as I became a toddler.  Or that my birth mom was supposed to leave the maternity home for unwed mothers with a clean slate, and pretend like nothing happened, after being told that in a few months it will be like nothing ever happened.  REALLY?  Even now, in year 2014, people look at me like I'm the crazy one when I mention the primal wound, of being ripped apart from one's birth mom, even if that woman you find out later on is not a good person.  That is not the topic of debate, its the fact that we have been torn away from our mothers, yet we are expected to bounce back and pretend this really isn't a big deal, nor does it affect us in any way!

Stripped of my heritage

Out of the blue my daughter texted me and asked what tribe (we)  my birth family is from.  I have to dig out my birth family information to give her the answer.    Haven't done that yet.

I told her that it doesn't matter anyhow, I cannot prove who I am.  She responded with a "Huh."  I had to remind her that I don't have my real birth certificate, so as far as the system is concerned, I am not that person because of adoption.   Its quite an irony, I am not biologically attached to my adoptive family either.  This in turn gives my children the same issue.  Its like stripping someone of their ancestry.  Once I explained this to my daughter, she was shocked.  She had not thought of that before.   She asked how to get my original birth certificate, and I explained I'd have to go to court and doubt I'd actually get it.  She was so mad!

Nope, most people don't think of this, what is stripped away from a baby when she's given up for adoption.  I texted my daughter this in response to her shock.  "Hence, my blog Who am I anyhow."
My daughter didn't respond to that text.  But I have been thinking about it a lot.  The dreaded question  I think I have the answer for with my 50th year of life quickly approaching.   It's a battle of managing myself,  alone.   You wouldn't believe what goes through my head on a daily basis.

I hate not having my ancestry for my kids, I resent it.   I am part Native American, and it's not that far removed, my birth fathers grandmother.    Because of adoption we can't claim our own heritage or ancestry, and its going to continue for generations, when my kids have kids, etc.   Do the adoption peddlers have any idea what they are doing when they break up families, or do they just not give a darn?  Can they grasp the devastation they are creating for generations to come?  

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.