1. Jump on the next plane to Paris and go hide there alone for the next several months or so.
2. Snap my fingers and have my homework be finished, poof. I really don't feel like writing another fucking paper or reading about sex in opera or composing another brilliantly mediocre fugue.
3. Burn down NCFA headquarters.
4. Pretend I wasn't adopted and that I have "real" parents and a "real" family.
5. Really, jump on that next plane to Paris.
6. Jump on the next plane to Paris.
Okay, okay, okay. Today's theme seems to be Escapism. I really hate that adoption seems to bleed over into almost every aspect of my life, despite my heroic attempts to ignore it all. I don't like looking at cute Latino kids and having the first thing to pop into my head be something like, "I bet they were adopted from Guatemala." I hate seeing all those "normal" families out there. I hate it when people say, "Gee, you don't look anything like your parents." I hate that I miss my parents and wish they loved me more. I hate that, despite my fantasies about Paris, I really wish I was in Oregon smoking cigarettes with my mom and getting drunk like we used to do on occasion. I hate that back then I wasn't thinking about adoption so much because I had managed to numb myself. I hate that I really miss my mom today but she probably hasn't even thought about me. I hate that whenever I talk to my fuzzy rat mother, I feel guilty because I'm not on the phone with my mom and my mom might even know that I'm probably talking to my fuzzy rat mother. I hate that it hurts my mom's feelings but she can't/won't talk about it.
It's funny. Posting on forums and starting to blog here have been cathartic in one way and paralyzing in another. I find myself missing the fog. I spent a large chunk of my 20s drowning my inner turmoil in a combination of sex, drugs, alcohol, and parties. I worked at my job like a slave and then partied my ass off afterwards. I rarely talked about adoption, aside from the times that things would finally get to me and I would be frantically searching for my roots. Marching into the courthouse, bitching out social workers, shelling out a lot of hard earned cash to shady private investigators, waiting for a PHONE CALL, waiting for A LETTER that never came. Then, to numb my pain, I would go back to sex, drugs, and alcohol. And work.
Now, adoption is in my face, all the time. I want to let go of it and have things go back to "normal" (ahem), yet I hear the voices of all these other adoptees that are going through, or have gone through, the same kind of shit and I want to support them. I find myself reading news articles that make me puke, reading about pending legislation, reading about injustices everywhere, and seeing "gotcha day" greeting cards that make me puke. I can't just stand here and do nothing. Yet I miss the days when I could escape into the numbing whirlwind. Sex, drugs, alcohol, party, work.
And on that note, I'm going to get some work done, and then go to a party, and do everything but the drugs part. Maybe then I'll feel better.
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7 comments:
It is an experience replying to you on a blog. It is good. I wish it were as easy as running away, I wish the fog could work. I wish it could be normal. I wish it could be easy. Some wishes don't come true. How do we get through it? I'm there for you. You are there for me. Why does it have to be so damn hard? Hope, it works sometimes. Maybe it will work more often. Maybe there will be more good days than bad days. I would still rather take the bad days than try to go through life without you. I wish you felt the same.
I miss the fog sometimes too. And the work hard and play hard lifestyle that helped me to stay in the fog.
I never knew you were so into Paris! I think of Paris nearly every day. Next trip planned for summer '09. Maybe we could meet there?
xx
I've never actually been to Paris, all I know is that it has been on my must-do list for as long as I can remember. One of those things I must do before I die.
Hey Elizabeth - if I can manage to get a damn job after I graduate and make enough $$, I'll see you there next summer!!
I really DO want to go now though...right this very minute, actually.
My dear fuzzy rat mother, as hard as this stuff is, I'd rather take the bad days than live my life without you too. I love you.
I also feel sometimes that the fog can't cleared but it wasn't until it had that I even contemplated reunion.
The relationship I have with my dad and bro are the best but it still has it's challenges!
Hang in there Irish. We all want to escape at some time or other and that's the case for everyone, not just those touched by adoption.
You're doing great sweetie.
Lots of hugs. xx
Sorry, that was suppose to say that I sometimes wish that the fog hadn't cleared too.
Not having great day as have also answered 4 times to your mum's posts. Sorry!!!!
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