I thought that I had said all that I felt about adoption emotions, but as the days have passed I have come to realize that there is a painful level that I had hidden from myself, and it is hard to get a grasp on those feelings; they seem to want to burrow in the depths of my heart and mind. I am going to take a deep breath and try to formulate words to describe my even deeper feelings.
The last time that I was in a mental hospital was in 2006. This stay was when they diagnosed that I had Post Traumatic Shock Disorder as a result of the many deprivations and torture that my brother and I went through in our childhood. This was balanced somewhat by the times when mother was well and showed her generous side to us. During this hospital visit I was in intense therapy as the doctors tried to sort through my past. Then one of the therapists made a statement to me that sent me over the edge. She suggested to me that my father was not a very responsible parent and that he had deserted Charley and I to our fate with mother. She said that my daddy was a bad man for standing back and not rescuing us even when he knew all of the things that were going on. When I heard this suggestion it threw me into a tailspin. I began to scream; a silent scream that reached the depths of my soul. Daddy was the one spot of love in our lives and I could not accept that my daddy was anything other than pure love; I could not face that he was also very human. I have not yet come to grips with these hidden emotions. I don't want to face what may be the fact that father had a weak side and that he allowed us to suffer alone, rather than step up to the plate and face mother about her abuse. He was afraid of my mother and could not conquer that fear even to try and save us. (silent scream.)
Another great pain was that once my parents had both passed, that I no longer had any connection with my extended adopted family. It seemed that once my parents were gone that the adoption was null and void. Not one of the cousins that I loved, or the aunts and uncles that I loved, had anything to do with Charley and I after my parent's passing. I would reach out to one of them only to have them hide in the woodwork and never respond to my letters or calls. My beloved Aunt Fanny had passed several years before my parents; I am convinced that she would never have abandoned Charley and I, but I have never understood why my relatives turned their back on us. Fortunately, I was blessed with my own, blood, family; my children and their families. They provide all of the love and support that I could ever need and our family keeps growing.
The last pain that I have been unable to totally come to terms with is the fact that I have a brother and two sisters-blood siblings-that I could find with very little effort, but I don't search them out because I don't want to cause them any more pain than they have already gone through with the loss of their parents. Sometimes I get so hungry for relatives that I contemplate finding them and telling them my story. But what would that do? Give them more pain about their beloved mother's secret past. I can't justify doing that just to satisfy my own wants. Somehow I still dream the dreams of childhood that one day they would miraculously hear of me and seek me out on their own. Realistically, I know that there is a very small chance that that would ever come to pass. My heart silently screams.
Then I hold my grandchildren and great-grandchildren in my arms and that is all that I need to send my heart back to a position of joy and thanksgiving.
Thank you for listening to all of this; sorry that it was so hard getting down to the brass tacks. I think that I have plumbed the depths of my feeling about adoption, but if you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment and I will answer your questions right back. I really appreciate your tolerance of my emotions.
The last time that I was in a mental hospital was in 2006. This stay was when they diagnosed that I had Post Traumatic Shock Disorder as a result of the many deprivations and torture that my brother and I went through in our childhood. This was balanced somewhat by the times when mother was well and showed her generous side to us. During this hospital visit I was in intense therapy as the doctors tried to sort through my past. Then one of the therapists made a statement to me that sent me over the edge. She suggested to me that my father was not a very responsible parent and that he had deserted Charley and I to our fate with mother. She said that my daddy was a bad man for standing back and not rescuing us even when he knew all of the things that were going on. When I heard this suggestion it threw me into a tailspin. I began to scream; a silent scream that reached the depths of my soul. Daddy was the one spot of love in our lives and I could not accept that my daddy was anything other than pure love; I could not face that he was also very human. I have not yet come to grips with these hidden emotions. I don't want to face what may be the fact that father had a weak side and that he allowed us to suffer alone, rather than step up to the plate and face mother about her abuse. He was afraid of my mother and could not conquer that fear even to try and save us. (silent scream.)
Another great pain was that once my parents had both passed, that I no longer had any connection with my extended adopted family. It seemed that once my parents were gone that the adoption was null and void. Not one of the cousins that I loved, or the aunts and uncles that I loved, had anything to do with Charley and I after my parent's passing. I would reach out to one of them only to have them hide in the woodwork and never respond to my letters or calls. My beloved Aunt Fanny had passed several years before my parents; I am convinced that she would never have abandoned Charley and I, but I have never understood why my relatives turned their back on us. Fortunately, I was blessed with my own, blood, family; my children and their families. They provide all of the love and support that I could ever need and our family keeps growing.
The last pain that I have been unable to totally come to terms with is the fact that I have a brother and two sisters-blood siblings-that I could find with very little effort, but I don't search them out because I don't want to cause them any more pain than they have already gone through with the loss of their parents. Sometimes I get so hungry for relatives that I contemplate finding them and telling them my story. But what would that do? Give them more pain about their beloved mother's secret past. I can't justify doing that just to satisfy my own wants. Somehow I still dream the dreams of childhood that one day they would miraculously hear of me and seek me out on their own. Realistically, I know that there is a very small chance that that would ever come to pass. My heart silently screams.
Then I hold my grandchildren and great-grandchildren in my arms and that is all that I need to send my heart back to a position of joy and thanksgiving.
Thank you for listening to all of this; sorry that it was so hard getting down to the brass tacks. I think that I have plumbed the depths of my feeling about adoption, but if you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment and I will answer your questions right back. I really appreciate your tolerance of my emotions.
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