This has been a hard month, a hard year. I’ve been trying to see the good, and not focus on the Loss. Yet, I find myself grasping at anything to stay numb. I’m playing online games for the first time in my life. I’ve been playing Publishers Clearing House hourly. Hey, I won two things. Great.

I started doing genealogy after I got my DNA. I was hoping I’d feel less alone finding family from 500 years ago. Nope. It isn’t the panacea I had hoped it would be.

Posting happy, hopeful things , begging it to all come true. Trying to help others to fill that gaping hole, I’m being my codependent self. I feel scattered , confused, and , often numb.

I prefer numb to the soul crushing grief, yet it makes me feel even more alone. I rarely leave the house unless it’s for a doctors appointment. My crayon fort is old and familiar. It’s comfortable and no one knows.

My beautiful first daughter is having her 5th baby any day. These emotions are complex. I’m so happy for them, grateful they are growing their beautiful family, yet, I know I’ll never meet any of them. Adoption trauma is lifelong. This adds another trigger day.

I’m trying so hard to be happy. I don’t know if happy and trauma can live in the same soul. I wish, pray, hope they can. It’s strange the way you push things away, don’t cry , and then have chest pain. It’s as if the pain makes itself be felt… one way or another.

Someone told me fake it until you are happy. It was my trauma therapist actually. I’m not sure I agree. As I type this, my chest is tight. But, no tears. I actually wish I could cry. I so desperately need a release.

I’m Fine. Great. Hopeful.

I’m devastated. Swallowing the feelings of grief and trauma. I’m drowning.