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Rookie, I understand. I was subjected to all of the same types of abuse. At age 7, when I was told of my adoption it was made clear that I was an "outsider" who was suspect and tainted. That provided the groundwork for what was to come.Being 2nd class was a permanent lifelong sentence that couldn't be changed.There was a requirement that because of my low status, everyday I had to earn the right to be a part of my a-family. Altho male, I could have written the Cinderella story.Healing has taken more then 40 years. When I grew up, the life I lived didn't match all my childhood dreams. There was no big house, cars, servants, and money, but I learned I had the ability to make a contribution to the lives of others, and for that I was grateful.I wish you the best in healing.
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Terrible emotional abuse and neglect. I was adopted in the 50's by a couple who loved babies but did not know what to do with children over the age of 5. Emotional abuse by my father. I was a constant reminder to him that I was not his. He became the most toxic person in my life. My mother spend decades in untreated depression. Could not take care of herself, never mind her two adopted children. I fed and helped my younger brother get dressed for most of his school years until I moved out at 19. Married into a loveless situation to get away from my father. Bad childhood. I am not high functioning emotionally because of it. I don't believe in adoption. I would have been better off aborted. Adoption does not always work, and that fact it ignored all too often.
Katherinealice, as I read your post it was a reminder of my own early years.First there was an adoption. I was a replacement for a child who had died only months before. Then the loss of an a-mom at age 3.From then on my a-dad abandoned me and there was emotional abuse. He never wanted any children.With the coming of his 2nd wife, I was held as an "outsider" -- tainted and suspect with little or no value.My greatest wish was to be like my peers. I wanted to have the love of a family. I wanted to be a part of a family without fear or guilt and to be respected as a family member. It never happened.Now it's easy to accept that my own feelings as an "outsider" were in many ways related to adoption and loss of a 1st a-mom. A large amount of grief and loss went unrecognized.There were no links or pathways to go into that dark side and I would not have known what to do if there had been. Although I grew up with hopes for a better life, the grief and loss from earlier years has continued to be lurking in the background. It has faded as time has passed so that more and more it is becoming a faint reminder of earlier times.I don't know that I agree with you that abortion is the answer. Those early experiences have been a deep emotional experience. Perhaps through those experiences we can recognize the need to help others with the same emotional difficulties and make a contribution to their lives.I wish you the best.
Drywall
Katherinealice, as I read your post it was a reminder of my own early years. First there was an adoption. I was a replacement for a child who had died only months before. Then the loss of an a-mom at age 3. From then on my a-dad abandoned me and there was emotional abuse. He never wanted any children. With the coming of his 2nd wife, I was held as an "outsider" -- tainted and suspect with little or no value. My greatest wish was to be like my peers. I wanted to have the love of a family. I wanted to be a part of a family without fear or guilt and to be respected as a family member. It never happened. Now it's easy to accept that my own feelings as an "outsider" were in many ways related to adoption and loss of a 1st a-mom. A large amount of grief and loss went unrecognized. There were no links or pathways to go into that dark side and I would not have known what to do if there had been. Although I grew up with hopes for a better life, the grief and loss from earlier years has continued to be lurking in the background. It has faded as time has passed so that more and more it is becoming a faint reminder of earlier times. I don't know that I agree with you that abortion is the answer. Those early experiences have been a deep emotional experience. Perhaps through those experiences we can recognize the need to help others with the same emotional difficulties and make a contribution to their lives. I wish you the best.
Katherine Alice, I read your post, and it honestly brought tears to my eyes. I pray that you will find healing, peace and worth as you go forward. What was taken from us is not fair. In fact, it sucks. The abuse I suffered took my self worth, and I have felt as you feel, at points in my life. I finally found myself.... I found my worth. I hope you can find yours, because each of us is worthy of life.
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Hi, I was abused by my foster father when I was 2 years old and then was adopted when I was 3 years old. My adoptive parents got divorced when I was 10 years old and my adoptive mother got remarried and I was then abused in every way for 2 years by my stepfather. I have struggled a lot and still haven't managed to deal with it, I am having counceling and am working through it slowly. I'm not sure if that is any help but am here if you need someone to talk to. Tonya :)
No my adoptive parents are great! They would "spank" us on occassion if our behavior was inappropriate but very seldom would they even spank... So sorry some of you have had to deal with abuse in your adoptive homes. Hope you all find the strenghth and love to work thru the heartache and pain. Praying for each of you.
Well, after reading some of the horrible abuses in this thread I don’t believe mine can be called an abuse, but I just want to post to.. get it out of me…Don't take me as a nutty fan, but long story short (cliffnotes) for any of you who have read the Harry Potter series, I really relate to Harry in regards to his life with the family he lived with before going to Hogwarts... -As a kid, I remember getting scolded all the time for getting up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom - "my (unadopted) siblings never had to, they don't have these habits and problems, so why me?" – a common question I got from my amom growing up - and so I started to pee in my room to avoid getting her mad. Once, however, that got foiled when I pee'd on an electrical socket and blew it up LOLI remember often asking for something to drink and she would get upset and if she didn't say no, she certainly made it a big deal. Sometimes I just drank water out of the dogs' water bowl and sometimes out of the toilet.I once yelled at her that I hated her when I was about 7 years old. For that, I was grounded to my room for a week, allowed to leave for the bathroom or at meals. I remember thinking as a kid that she had adopted me so she could go to heaven.I was constantly grounded whereas my siblings were very rarely grounded. Once I was grounded for a stretch of two years due to a habit I had, where I would have my hand over my mouth when I was on the computer. I was also grounded countless times for being a mouth breather. As it turns out, that actually runs in my bfamily.I recall my younger brother was allowed to get up on his own, whereas I was not allowed to come out of my room until my amom opened the door. I remember getting out of my bed to look under the crack of my door to wait for her footsteps, and often they came but I still had to wait, sometimes another hour or two, or so it felt. I remember passing the time by counting... I always felt my brother got things better – and he would agree when I conveyed that frustration to him…and I was always made to feel like the younger brother, even though I am older by two years.I remember once, my adad gave me twenty dollars to pay a copay for me and my brothers doc appointment (I was about 18). As soon as I went to take the money off of the table my amom grabbed it and we fought over it. She was adamant that my YOUNGER brother - take responsibility for the money, that I could not be trusted to handle it. Time and time again he was trusted with things that I wasn't. YES. I lied to her all the time growing up, cannot even count how often...but I know in my heart I was still as trustworthy and responsible as my brother. And a large part of the reason that I could not be trusted was that I did not trust her - trust is mutual….I remember I got so angry with her and told her my thoughts on how she treated me compared to my brother and when she grounded me, I ran out of the house and away, and did not return until I saw my dad looking for me when he got home from work.Her having a holiday off of work was always a sinking feeling for me…My dad having to fly out of town for a week was also a sinking feeling because it was typically whenever he was not around that I got grounded. When he was around he defended me… I admire my dad. Honestly, if he hadn’t been around and as good as a father that he is, I would have left my a’family long ago.I remember her saying countless times that she was giving up on me, that she no longer cared. Often, she’d come home from work and I’d say hey, and she would immediately start building up some sort of argument. Otherwise, she’d mutter hey under her breath. On the other hand, my brother typically got a much more…normal…greeting.I remember her talking to my brother and sister, having actual, light and friendly conversations with them, confiding in them stuff that she never confided in me. Often, it was as simple as telling my them we were going out to dinner and I was clueless about it until literally minutes before leaving or until my brother told me. Come to think of it…she and I went years without a legitimate conversation. The only conversations we had were arguments and talks about negative things about me and what I needed to do to fix them. As long as I can remember, my relationship with her was nothing more than living under the same roof... It was always her I fought with, always her who grounded and punished me. It felt like a constant war and I even have had nightmares about it. She called it a game... And when my brother went off to college…she gave him a long hug and said “I love you”, something she NEVER said to me, even when I left for college…witnessing that moment really hurt. I almost wanted to cry, mourn the fact that I never had that mom-son relationship with her, let alone my own mother.The first time I heard “I love you” from either of my moms came from my bmom when I reunited with her at 20 years old. Sad, but man did that make me happy.
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Yes, I was. My first adoptive home/mother was very abusive!!! Physically, sexually, mentally, and verbally. My second adoptive mother is a Narcissist and was mentally abusive. It is really painful when you have been in and out of fostercare for many years, wanting a forever home, that will love you and treat you like one of their own and all they are is abusive to you. What also hurts is that they never got punished for it. That made me feel like no one cared about me. It really hurts! All I wanted was to be loved and treated right.
Were any of you abused by your adoptive parents and how did you deal with that?
I also was abused by my adoptive parents. Laws were different in the ‘70s. I was “put up” for adoption at 2yrs due to birth moms living conditions (with a 1yr old sis). Apparently SS tried to get us adopted together for 2 years. I was adopted at 4yrs old for farm labor. Baling hay at 5 with an adoptive brother a year older than me. Treated us like slaves including an occasional bull whipping (real bull whip)Age 11 school inquiry into marks on my body led to me being taken away and up for adoption again. Never happened. At 16 I’d been to more schools than my age. Foster homes and eventually group homes.Despite all this bullshit I went through I graduated HS and college with a degree. I am unable to live in the same location for more than a year at a time, think of suicide daily (multiple previous attempts). Holidays are the most depressing times when you have absolutely no one to trust or love. During college breaks I’d either go camping or sneak into my dorm room. I have a “plan”...
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Yes actually right now my best friend is calling dcf and the child abuse hotline because my adopted father put his hands on me again last night while my mom watched, my real parents where abusive and where drug atics so i already had ptsd from that and now i have depreshion and anxiety to because of the people that swore to the court and the law to protect me but there doing nothing but hurting me im curently in my room starving because my father didnt give me dinner or breakfast and locked me in my room. this cant go on much longer cna it?