Friday, October 9, 2009

Being Adopted

Being adopted is hard work. It takes more effort to trust, love, accept and believe. Not to give those things, mind you, but to allow others to give them to me. I trust, love, accept and believe too intensely, too soon and without thinking it through. But to receive them from others is heart wrenching. I can list off a thousand reasons why I am simply, not good enough. If I sit down and actually think about it I AM good enough, often TOO good, but in the moment my inner strength backs down like a puppy shit kicked one too many times. This can not be the way to live, this can not be how I spend my life, angry and alone because of fear. Fear that yet another person will walk away, die, be taken or otherwise removed from my life. It cripples every personal relationship in my life, friends, family, lovers and even my children.

One of my adoptee friends, Andraya, wrote this on her facebook page. She claims she spent 5 minutes writing it. For stream-of-consciousness writing, this gets an A+ in my book. And something to chew on.

The baby in me resurfaced last week. Before my mother left, I was crying and panicked. I talked to my shrink about how to ward off the PTSD. He told me to go with my instincts and do what felt right to me. I tried to warn my mother what might happen...and it did.

Like the baby of 40 years ago, I have learned to pacify myself on my own. After spending a week crying, I became very quiet. I haven't shed a tear since before my mother left. I already knew she was gone.

I can list off a thousand reasons why I am simply, not good enough.

My mother and I are not speaking. I have asked her not to call me, and our email communication has been sporadic and chatty. She seems to have settled comfortably back into her life and with the people she loves. I don't want to take any of that away from her. I already know she is gone.

If I sit down and actually think about it I AM good enough, often TOO good, but in the moment my inner strength backs down like a puppy shit kicked one too many times.
Meanwhile, I have been spending the past week or so reconnecting with people. Reconnecting with my husband. I woke up in the middle of the night two nights ago and petted my husband's hair for an hour or so while he was sleeping. Then I had to go check on my son, like he was still a baby, to make sure he hadn't evaporated or something.

Fear that yet another person will walk away, die, be taken or otherwise removed from my life.

I'm in a weird place. Not angry, not sad, not numb. I'm not sure what to do, other than what feels right to me at the moment...which is remaining quiet, surrounding myself with people and things that comfort me, and riding this weirdness out. I am the adult pacifying my own inner baby.

Oddly, I'm better at it than I thought I would be.










4 comments:

*Peach* said...

Hugs. I feel like I could have written that. The fear of people leaving and pacifying myself with inner-silence. Becoming disconnected to survive. And trying so hard to re-connect and live. Thank you for sharing and I hope this week is better. Hugs, Peach

The Fuzzy Duck Daughter said...

Thanks, Peach. Your words mean a lot to me. I am starting to find a great deal of comfort in this quiet place. For one of the first times in my life, I don't feel like I'm frantically searching for someone to love me. In the past week, they have been coming to me and loving me on their own. And instead of mistrust, I am embracing it. It feels good.

Anonymous said...

I wish we (adoptees) didn't have to disconnect in order to survive. We learned this very little in order to keep our sanity among the chaos. How confusing and traumatic it is for a child to be removed from his/her mother and handled by many people before ever being in a "forever family" (BLAH).

Adoption should be rare in cases of parental death or other incapacity. It's too common and there is not one person undamaged by the life-long, life-altering process called "adoption".

unsignedmasterpiece said...

I know this is an old post but just in case you are still reading comments...

I seem to be going through a similar thing with my son where he appears determined to prove to himself that I don't think much of him.

This is untrue (see name of my blog for one thing) but he seems to be trying desperately to prove that it is.

I am at a total loss. Everything gets twisted to that end.

Sadly, I think you may be right, this is one of the effects of adoption - something every girl/woman considering it as an option should know.

UM