When you feel you’re the only one that lives at the Therapist and what happened after that appointment….. raw

I’m at my trauma therapist right now. We are going to do EMDR and dig deep. I’m so nervous. Growing and learning about my trauma and loss isn’t easy. It sometimes hurts like hell. Denying that my parents hurt me has been the ” easy” way. I’m so used to self- loathing, to shame , to never being Enough and to people I love leaving. Exploring all of that is painful.Flash to now: About 18 hours post session. We dug out horrible, disgusting pieces yesterday. Pieces that I’ve never verbalized. Shame fills me even now. I wish I undo it all. After therapy yesterday, I felt spent and tired. Went home , started dinner and my stomach went full on IBS. My back that has stopped hurting, zapped me again with electricity. Of note is that during this time , my mom found out yesterday she’s dying sooner than she thought. Another post. I had a lot of Cbd last night. I felt wonderful. Still noticed areas of pain , but not severe. Still no thoughts on therapy. Isn’t dissociate great ? They came. Whether in vivid dreams or awake in the dark. Reliving awful painful events. Dark secrets meant to drown in the dark. Woke up with a severe migraine this morning. Nausea and diarrhea. Thought of all I was and did. Also , who I am now. I’ve lived my second life atoning every second. Forgiveness isn’t allowed. Self sentencing at its finest. Took a lot more Cbd. Head doesn’t hurt. Numb. Alive. Existing. This post was started on another topic. Obviously, the therapy took it somewhere else.

Yesterday I was the Tooth fairy for my Mom…

Caring for your elderly parents is never easy , and the added difficulty of them causing the biggest trauma in your life sure complicates it even more. My parents wouldn’t let me keep my firstborn, their first grandchild. I’ll never completely understand it. But , they are Adopted and I know that played a huge role.

My mom moved out from the west coast right after 911. She lived with us for 15 years until moving into assisted living 2 years ago. That was not easy having my mom in my home as everything collapsed around me. She heard my truth and watched me dissolve after a rejected reunion. I lashed out , as the teen that had her daughter ripped away. I said many things I’m not proud of and I know I wanted her to SEE what she had done.

She witnessed the turmoil in my family as my raised children, all full siblings with my lost daughter, reacted to adoption. It wasn’t pretty and almost destroyed us all. We are all still working on it and probably will for the rest of my life.

There came a time that I knew I had to forgive her. She had a horrible childhood and just didn’t know how to parent. I knew I wanted to be everything she wasn’t. If only life was that easy. Call it fait , karma , or whatever is easier. Dysfunctional families continue, though not necessarily in the same way or degree.

Learning to forgive her has been a process. I had to see her as the adopted child she was , and not the neglectful parent she had been. She simply didn’t have the tools to raise my brother and me.

As she reaches the end of her life , I don’t want regrets. I try to be a good loving daughter. I fail on occasion.

Yesterday at the doctor, we were checking her out post shoulder replacement. Her front tooth was ” flapping ” as she called it. I asked if she wanted it out. She did. And , in a second it was gone. She was shocked on how I knew what to do.

Memories came flashing back. She never pulled my teeth , brushed my hair or any of the mom things most had. I raised myself and little brother. She simply checked out on our childhood when dad left.

I know if I don’t forgive her and love her , I’ll be forever guilt ridden. I do not need one more drop of guilt or regret in my life. She doesn’t remember most of my life and has dementia now.

So I run her errands, take her to doctors and try to involve her in things she likes. I try to be who I needed her to be. She’s always pleasant and grateful and I feel extreme guilt wherever I fail.

Adoption made us orphans when they took our babies. So ironic how that worked out that way. I’m trying to forgive daily. For me and for them.

If you need me , I’ll be playing tooth fairy, and fixing my moms hair. Love means going through the pain to get to the good stuff.

I’m not Adopted, But I’m Listening to them…

The short version of my story: I lost my daughter 32 years ago against my will. My parents decided it was best. My parents are both Adopted, but I didn’t think of the connection until a few years ago. All of my 3 children are full siblings and I married my lost daughter’s Father 2 years later and had my daughter and my son. We have since divorced. She has refused reunion with me , but has a wonderful relationship with her sister. She is married and just had her fifth child.

No filter here. I lost it the day that precious boy was born. I was heartbroken for me, ecstatic for her, and a complete disaster. Not one of my proudest days. All I could think about was my loss. Every time she has a baby, it felt like I lost her again. PTSD isn’t forgiving to oneself .

I was once again missing them and her and felt I would drown in the powerlessness. After my breakdown, I thought long and hard and kept reading from the Amazing Adoptees. I ended up being so ashamed of myself.

I had my epiphany suddenly! I felt entitled!! I was no better than the adoptive parents that believe they are owed a child. She doesn’t owe me anything! None of this was her choice and promises not kept weren’t made by her. This was huge.

Am I ” over it”? NO. I’m only now just beginning to understand. I’ll never be over her. She’s my daughter and I’ll love her until my last breath. But, she has no obligation to me. None.

I was stuck at 18 for so long , that the pain paralyzed me. If I didn’t clutch her memory, I felt empty. The only moments I had with her lasted less than 24 hours.

My goal now is to enjoy how happy she is. Even though I’ll never meet her, she has a wonderful life. She’s the happy Adoptee. And, would I want her to be unhappy? Never!

I thought about some of our messages over the years and I owe her the biggest apology. In my dream scenario, she’s missing me. She’s not. Why would she ? I’m a stranger. I’m the mother of her sister and that is all.

I’m making tiny baby steps with the support of my Sisters in Adoptionland. I’m growing, ever so slowly, but , it’s a start. Instead of living in the past, I am looking toward the future. The pain isn’t a constant torture. I think of her daily and pray for her and her family.

Adoptees taught me so many things about myself and her. I’m forever grateful for our Sisterhood. ❤️. Wish me luck 💕

I hope that maybe one day, I’ll shine more than I break. One day at a time is the only way to navigate this for my journey.

It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way…

My daughter had her beautiful son last week. He has red hair and I’m sure his daddy’s amazing blue eyes. I’ll never meet him, my daughter, or her 4 other children. I’m thrilled for her. I’m broken inside. Another loss to add to the mountain that is sitting on me.

I thought she’d meet me once. Just that one time. It was not to be. Accepting this is a lot like death. My death. I’m struggling so much. I’m trying to act brave , but , to those that do love me I’m not fooling anyone.

My heart hurts. It literally hurts. We will see what the echo shows. Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve been extremely ill as has my elderly mother. I’m keeping busy but that’s my MO. Push it all away and it will work out. It won’t. She never wants to meet me ever.

Time isn’t healing the wound of losing your first child. She’s alive and happy and raising her family and I’m so grateful for that. I need to accept the facts my brain knows but my heart is too broken to accept.

The stress of this is literally killing me and it won’t be much of a loss. I’m obviously not needed by anyone. Doctors and tests clutter my week and I simply exist. I just made homemade soup. “I’m fine”.

Tell her I loved her since before she was born if I’m not here. Tell her I’m sorry I believed I wasn’t enough. Tell her I’ve thought of a million ways to have fought them better now. Hug her just once for me. Tell her my name.