Hello blog world.
I wish I could come to you with joy tonight and shine a light on my health updates and journey, but life isn’t filtered through rose colored glasses. Life is raw, real, and can be very painful at times.
This is where I am today. In pain.
Navigating the torrential waters of my family is complex. I’m sure most people have complicated families and lives, and I am not alone here.
But I do feel very isolated.
What started as me reaching out in a small, yet profound way has now snowballed into a mess of hypocrisy, gas-lighting, and a lot of tears.
I’m not going to go into detail here but this is a strong reminder of a few things I wanted to share:
- You have a right to your emotions. Anyone who tells you that you are dramatic, or who indicates that you need to “brush it off,” is toxic to you. I don’t care if that is your own mother. They are neglecting your emotional cries of reassurance and that is toxicity in it’s highest form.
- Children with PTSD need constant reassurance. I’m adopted. My early, early, early childhood years (age 0-2) were very rough. I underwent open heart surgery when I was born without anesthesia or pain relief at all. My foster homes were pretty rough environments to grow up in, and… of course the whole being adopted thing in and of itself….creates a perfect storm for my constant need of assurance. Am I enough? Am I loved? Did I make my parents proud? Did I ask for too much? Even at 29, these questions go through my mind daily– especially when I have a conversation with ANY member of my family. I am constantly trying to fit into my family’s puzzle, and I am a square shaped peg trying to fit into a circle.
- It hurts. It’s okay that it hurts, but there is this silent twinge that is always in the wings of my life, or the back of my mind. I don’t think this will ever go away. Some scars just can’t be healed, and for the most part day-to-day I’m as okay as I will ever be. I have a vibrant smile and I can laugh and feel joy and I have incredibly awesome memories of being loved and safe and sound…but there is an undercurrent of fear and pain that comes with being adopted. I don’t think I’m alone in this, but it is a presence that makes itself known daily.
So… where do we go from here?
You know, I’m honestly not sure. I have tried reaching out, but it’s hard when people want to have answers, and yet they don’t have any answers at all. If I had one wish for myself and my family, it would be that they would respect the way I react to things that upset me. I wish that they would support me without feeling like they had to give me an answer at all. Often, when I’m upset, or angry, or hurt– I am told that I am “lashing out,” or having “emotional outbursts.” I feel like this is a defense mechanism for my family because it hurts to know that they have done everything they ever could do within their capacity for me and yet I still have normal emotional ups and downs, good days and bad days. It’s not that I am ungrateful– I am– but that silent pain IS always there.
I wonder if that would be different if my history was acknowledged more. Maybe not out loud, but if everyone could remember that I’m are not cut from the same cloth and that this is a daily fight for me… would things have been different?
I’ll just leave you with Boggle the Owl.
Remember to be kind to yourself and if you or someone close to you is in serious distress or simply needs to talk to someone, please call the national suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or text 741741.