Advertisements
I'm hiding this in here because I didn't want to post it but I know I have to. Hopefully people will not notice it. But the old tapes are running trying to get me not to talk. Can't do that. Can't let those tapes take over my life. They've had their air time. They need to go!
......So by now my friends here know how I pick up Recovery/Realizations through movies and songs and what-not. I have been in a fog lately knowing that some physical remembrance is coming that I do not want to have. Because I am not used to this you see....this literal feeling of the past through the bodies senses. I am used to the haze and to the emotional memories that we all have and process. But this physical stuff...it is rattling me.
So I thought, "Eh...I'll just watch some random flick and drift. Who says I have to go where I don't want to go?" So I closed my eyes and picked a DVD from the stack downstairs. Random flick turned out to be Terminator 2.
At the end of the movie the kid is crying because the Terminator is going to send himself to oblivion in order to save everybody. The kid's sobbing and Terminator says, "I know why you cry but it is something I can never do."
That's when my arms started hurting. I looked down at them and WHAM!!! I remembered.....remembered what it was physically like to hold my babies. Remembered the feel of their little bodies. I swear, it was as real as if someone came up and placed a babydoll in my arms. And then this horrendous knot of grief came flying up into my throat and I had to stuff my hand in my mouth to stop it!! And I sat there feeling the wrenching heartache of adoption.
I freaked!!! I mean people....I effing freaked out!!! And then I could see it all. Could see the agency room, the very way it was lit. I could smell it!! And I just sort of stopped breathing for a minute. And then...WHAM!! Another memory.........the social worker looking at me and she was crying!! Crying!!
And me, my young young self, looking at her from an emotionally dead distance while I held my daughter and admired her pretty dress that the foster mom had picked for her. And I asked the Social Worker why she was crying and she said, "Because you can't, Janey. You can't cry for yourself so I'm crying for you."
That's twice that's happened to me in the long 31 years of this hell. Twice that two different women have cried for me because I could not. And I hated them for it!! And I hated myself more!!!
And in that agency room I sat there, staring at the social worker knowing in some corner of my teen brain that this was appropriate, this crying of hers. But there was this wall there of concrete and iron and tungsten steel. And then the light went out. You know?
But oh, I wanted to cry....believe me! But that was taboo in my home. No one cried. You didn't cry. Crying was seen as either manipulation or cowardice; and neither was acceptable. A person took their knocks and went on with the day; no matter what the day brought.
I know why you cry but it is something I can never do. What a line!!!
You know, karma is strange.
In the early 80's my mom's 2nd husband died. She had him cremated, threw out his clothes, and never spoke of him again. It was only a decade later that we learned she had gone out to the cemetary and had the urn holding his ashes internned. She went alone. Never told a soul. Not even my half-sisters who were his daughters.
Then this past year that's when my youngest sister told me that she called mom and demanded to know something, anything about her dad. She said she was tired of the silence; that it felt like she was adopted and knew nothing of her father.
Little Sis did not say what mom told her and I didn't ask. Except to say that I understood the depths of a person's inability to grieve.
And you want to know what is strange? I could see myself doing what mom did. Somehow I have come to understand the abyss of silence and to live by its rules. This post that I share with you. I have committed an unpardonable sin in the eyes of my family. God help me if they ever come here and learn who I am.
Sigh....my arms hurt. And my heart hurts too.
:hissy: :hissy: :hissy: :hissy: :hissy:
Like
Share
That's a good analogy about the missing limb, Paige... so, so true.I existed in numbness for 36 years after surrendering my son. When I found him, I cried, almost endlessly. I rarely left our house, and some days it was all I could do to get dressed. After all those years, finally the tears came...
Advertisements
My sister and her family were over for Sunday night dinner and she started thumbing through my copy of The Girls Who Went AwayӔ. She said to me, IӒm surprised that you just cant let that entire experience go away. You went years without even talking about it.Ҕ
paigeturner
But, in many respects, I feel after all these years that I did, in fact, abandon him...I sent him to strangers without knowing anything about them or their lifestyle. I was an uneducated wimp about my rights. That pregnant girl was not me. She was someone I couldnt recognize. IҒm ashamed of her even after all these years.
Janeytwo
I'm hiding this in here because I didn't want to post it but I know I have to. Hopefully people will not notice it. But the old tapes are running trying to get me not to talk. Can't do that. Can't let those tapes take over my life. They've had their air time. They need to go!
......So by now my friends here know how I pick up Recovery/Realizations through movies and songs and what-not. I have been in a fog lately knowing that some physical remembrance is coming that I do not want to have. Because I am not used to this you see....this literal feeling of the past through the bodies senses. I am used to the haze and to the emotional memories that we all have and process. But this physical stuff...it is rattling me.
So I thought, "Eh...I'll just watch some random flick and drift. Who says I have to go where I don't want to go?" So I closed my eyes and picked a DVD from the stack downstairs. Random flick turned out to be Terminator 2.
At the end of the movie the kid is crying because the Terminator is going to send himself to oblivion in order to save everybody. The kid's sobbing and Terminator says, "I know why you cry but it is something I can never do."
That's when my arms started hurting. I looked down at them and WHAM!!! I remembered.....remembered what it was physically like to hold my babies. Remembered the feel of their little bodies. I swear, it was as real as if someone came up and placed a babydoll in my arms. And then this horrendous knot of grief came flying up into my throat and I had to stuff my hand in my mouth to stop it!! And I sat there feeling the wrenching heartache of adoption.
I freaked!!! I mean people....I effing freaked out!!! And then I could see it all. Could see the agency room, the very way it was lit. I could smell it!! And I just sort of stopped breathing for a minute. And then...WHAM!! Another memory.........the social worker looking at me and she was crying!! Crying!!
And me, my young young self, looking at her from an emotionally dead distance while I held my daughter and admired her pretty dress that the foster mom had picked for her. And I asked the Social Worker why she was crying and she said, "Because you can't, Janey. You can't cry for yourself so I'm crying for you."
That's twice that's happened to me in the long 31 years of this hell. Twice that two different women have cried for me because I could not. And I hated them for it!! And I hated myself more!!!
And in that agency room I sat there, staring at the social worker knowing in some corner of my teen brain that this was appropriate, this crying of hers. But there was this wall there of concrete and iron and tungsten steel. And then the light went out. You know?
But oh, I wanted to cry....believe me! But that was taboo in my home. No one cried. You didn't cry. Crying was seen as either manipulation or cowardice; and neither was acceptable. A person took their knocks and went on with the day; no matter what the day brought.
I know why you cry but it is something I can never do. What a line!!!
You know, karma is strange.
In the early 80's my mom's 2nd husband died. She had him cremated, threw out his clothes, and never spoke of him again. It was only a decade later that we learned she had gone out to the cemetary and had the urn holding his ashes internned. She went alone. Never told a soul. Not even my half-sisters who were his daughters.
Then this past year that's when my youngest sister told me that she called mom and demanded to know something, anything about her dad. She said she was tired of the silence; that it felt like she was adopted and knew nothing of her father.
Little Sis did not say what mom told her and I didn't ask. Except to say that I understood the depths of a person's inability to grieve.
And you want to know what is strange? I could see myself doing what mom did. Somehow I have come to understand the abyss of silence and to live by its rules. This post that I share with you. I have committed an unpardonable sin in the eyes of my family. :hissy: :hissy: :hissy: :hissy: :hissy:
God help me if they ever come here and learn who I am.
Sigh....my arms hurt. And my heart hurts too.
Hey everyone!!
I am reading over everyone's responses and am so....I don't even know the word...but so touched that you all have been so kind and considerate.
Today I tried responding once or twice but had my grandson from 8:30 till 5:00. He is wonderful and I love him so much - but his little 2 year old self is not conducive with anything but attention to him. :love:
So, if it would be okay with everyone, I am going to take some more time tonight to read what everyone's written...think on it and reply in the morning.
You guys....thank you...from the very bottom of my heart....thank you.
You're good people. The best........:grouphug:
Advertisements
paigeturner
At the end of the evening I asked my sister, If you lost a limb, do you think you would still miss it, even after 20 years?Ӕ She thinks Im losing my mind. Perhaps, I am.
Hey Everyone!
JustPeachy
It's strange how much mom still holds over me. As I posted my original missive here, I kept looking over my shoulder for Sister Susie to be there reading and then say to me, "Ah! I'm telling mom!!!" Good grief!! I mean how old am I? Two??:cowboy:
These rules that our parents' generation held so fanatically: Suffer loss, suffer someone's death, suffer rape, beatings, divorce, poverty, indifference...Suffer all that silently and with a refusal to acknowledge its power. I ask myself what did our parents/grandparents have to put away within themselves in order to live with that. ??? !!!!
I know that most of it for my mom is a legacy of war. But at some point, the war ended. But somewhere in there the message became "any acknowelgement of heartache is a lie, a bid for sympathy or weakness".
For the longest time I've posted in here that that mentality saved me, but really it didn't. You're right Peachy, it sent me to prison. Life without the possibility of parole for the crime of daring to feel. It seems I have been given a pardon of my sentence by the good people in here. Thank you...all of you.
Your words are true though, Peachy, my family would prefer I remain behind emotional bars. It's so much more convenient. And that is their journey and can no longer be my excuse.
Because I've imprisoned all my children in a way. Most especially my raised daughters. In living the silence, I taught them as had been taught me; that that is the only acceptable solution. Tsk. I can do better.
Ravensong
Sometimes it seems that some folks want us to go back to that mythical land. Good luck with that, huh?
Paigeturner
That would've upset me too!!
And our families have gone convenient years without asking us how we are doing. There was a time long ago when I would rage at "the fam". I can picture myself in your shoes screaming back, "How about I take one of your kids and you never see them again! How about that?" They would've just rolled their eyes and looked at each other with that "There goes whack-job Janey again."
It never stops amazing me how our siblings who have children can't understand - can't even grasp - how painful this must be. I mean, I can almost understand it in my mom (who to her credit is trying). She probably has residual guilt over the life we all led first of all but also over the path that road came to lead my down in my youth. Not that my actions are of her doing; not at all, but as a mom, I hold myself responsible for my daughters' happiness, defeats, struggles, etc.
But our siblings? What the frig? What possible guilt could they have? Okay...maybe they felt bad for us and felt powerless but for crying out loud, as adults, shouldn't it occur to them that it was out of their hands and that maybe - just maybe - it's time to approach us and say, "I just wanted to let you know that I respect what you went through". ??? But no, instead they're going to write us off. I don't get that one!!!
On a lighter note I'm smiling here as I read about your Sis thumbing through your book (not smiling at your pain - just so you know) - I remember when I had an AlAnon book out once and one of my brothers was over the house to borrow a pipe wrench if memory serves. Anyway he pointed to my 12 Step book and said that there was some very good de-programming going on out in California that helped victims of "cults like that one"!! :eyebrows: I was not a nice person back then. I grinned at bro and replied "Satan is good. Satan is our pal!" LOL! He didn't speak to me for a while after that. (And I think he still has my dang pipe wrench too!)
LasVEgasMom Wise stuff you said about being older and hopefully smarter. But I just wanted to send you a hug when I read this: ((( LasVEgasMom )))
Cetally I am going to send you a PM on your response to me. It touched me and I had some things to share. Will send the PM later today. Thanks for your kind words. :rockband:
BelleinBlue
Wow! That's a powerful share. You're right...our hearts are scattered to the wind aren't they?
I hear that old saying running through the negative side of my mind; the one I imagine my mother's mother would've said, "We reap what we sew."
But the women in here are sewing a need seed perhaps. A plant of hope.
Winter444 Thank you for your kind words. :flower:
Thank you everyone. If anyone ever asks any of you if you did anything worthy in your time here, you can tell them that you helped a girl/woman/mom named Janey reclaim her right to be.
:rockband:
Just let it out, Janey....and nevermind about your family. This is not about them, it's about YOU.....They will probably never understand....When I came home from the hospital, I cried and cried and cried...... After not even 2 weeks, my mom said "I thought you would be over this by now!"
If there ever were any "Leave It to Beaver" families, I never met them.
My sister and her family were over for Sunday night dinner and she started thumbing through my copy of “The Girls Who Went Away”. She said to me, “I’m surprised that you just can’t let that entire experience go away. You went years without even talking about it.”
ANYTHING can trigger those feelings of being that scared 17 year old who brought her stuffed dog to sign the papers.
I have parts of my heart all over this state....
Janey,
I just wanted to send a big hug your way! I understand exactly what you are saying about those physical memories being triggered. It is soooo scary when it happens.
I only wish I could of dealt with my issues before dd found me. It's been an extremely difficult year for me. It seemed everything was triggering so many different events and emotions within me at the same time. I became so scared of everything, not knowing where the next trigger was going to come from. Not only was my adoption being triggered, but a rape and childhood trauma as well.
It is comforting to me to know that I am not alone and that others have similar reactions. I hope you can find a little comfort to in knowing that you are not alone.
Advertisements
-maggie
I only wish I could of dealt with my issues before dd found me. It's been an extremely difficult year for me. It seemed everything was triggering so many different events and emotions within me at the same time. I became so scared of everything, not knowing where the next trigger was going to come from. Not only was my adoption being triggered, but a rape and childhood trauma as well.
LasVegasMom
Those memories are so strong that I cry as I type this. I, too, have flashbacks, especially now that my reunion has come apart at the seams. I cry at night, almost every night, and my husband says I'm like a vietnam vet that is having flashbacks. I feel JUST like I did when I first relinquished him, I am worried again that he is OK.
LasVegasMom
And crying, yes, crying, is something I have always done in the shower, at night, into my pillow. And you know what, ANYTHING can trigger those feelings of being that scared 17 year old who brought her stuffed dog to sign the papers. If THAT did not give anyone a big clue that I was not ready to mother him, it should have!
LasVegasMom
But ladies, we cannot live in that past, we are all older, hopefully smarter, and all we can do is learn from our past. I have been living in that past so much lately that I am now in a fog I'm trying desperately to get out of.
"No, we cannot live in the past...but in order to move on from our pasts, we often must dissect what really happened to us. To get past something, we have to go through it to get to the other side. I think that by the time a lot of birthmoms find their way to these forums, they're ready to start the work of healing...which can be very painful. I think it's necessary for us to be able to really feel the emotions we had, to face them head-on, before we can move ahead in our journey."
Raven, This is exactly where I am today.... it's taken me a long time to finally figure this out! I am beginning to heal. :)
Thank you for your kind words... It is amazing to finally find a place where people can truly understand. I've never had that before.
Advertisements
Hey guys! :flower:
Maggie
I was amazed too, to find this forum. I hadn't expected that anything like this place existed. I typed in "adoption" and this forum camp up. I had expected that it might be research forum or a place for prosepective parents. But not a place for birthmothers. so that was very comforting.
I'm glad you've found us! :grouphug:
I definately agree with the PTSD. This stuff....not the mental remembrance (that makes sense) but the emotional and physical aspects of the adoption experience, that has come flying back at an incredible pace for me personally this past year.
At the beginning of the year, after the clock thing, I sat for a few months, playing computer games and being "blank" (best way I know to describe it). I knew something was wrong because I kept pushing that image of that clock out of my head with practically every breath I took.
Then finally, I couldn't push it back anymore and the floodgates opened.
And so....here I am.
Thanks to those who founded this place. :thankyou:
It is amazing to finally find a place where people can truly understand
Janey,
I just wanted you to know that I admire your ability to talk about these issues. I admire your ability to put your emotions and events into words. You are an inspiration!
This is something I haven't been able to do. I've only begun to be able to talk about everything after so many years of silence. I still have not been able to talk about any of my flashback memories or nightmares. I admire you for being able to write about yours. It takes courage. I can tell that you are a strong woman.
I have recently learned that I need to talk about it in order to move passed it and to heal. I think the silence was keeping me imprisoned within myself. Breaking the silence is scary, but necessary. I am just beginning to talk, but It has already made a big difference in my life. For the first time I have hope. Hope to heal. Hope to live a life outside of the darkness. Hope to be completely happy!
PTSD is something I've lived with since I was 3. I do believe that each trauma, including adoption, has made it worse. I've never known life without PTSD. I have just learned to live with it....
Janey I hope you are having a better day!