I guess the stories we tell each other are just stories. Because I am Dorothy and when God lead me back home, I was not welcomed, not all of me at least. I was not surrounded by uncles and my Mother, like Dorothy was after the tornado. Nope. She only wanted a candy coated version, like Disney I guess, but minus the reunion. But Dorothy went through quite a bit, and her family listened. They wanted to know, and did not run away or block her. They surrounded her with love and wanted to hear. They calmed her anxiety. Wiped her tears and had tears of joy that she returned and was ok after such a storm, that could have killed her.
I guess my Mama writes different stories. She gave her baby away and they lived happily every after, The End. Not. Maybe in her dreams, but not what I experienced. And I know, I am telling the same old story different ways, but that is how many people see it differently. I must explain it so people can picture it, and feel what it was like so we don’t go back there anymore. So we protect children rights to be with their family, the family God sent them too. For balance is important here on earth, even with children. Suffer the children to come unto me. Why does God have to take us up? When God send us to families? To Mothers? God is not demented, we are. WE are the ones with the free wills, and the ones who can say, not my will but thine be done?
There is no yellow brick road back to Mama’s house, with cookies and emotional bandages for my wounds. She can only take care of herself. And fill her home with useless stuff. No walks in nature with her, no weekends away with her, no nurture with her, not even my sisters really get that, much. She lost it, I feel when she gave me away. She just lost it. And I have faith, yes, but my faith is thin these days. My heart hurts these days for a world with Mothers like this and a world that makes it ok.
I have felt the sting of her rebuke at birth, before for that matter. I was there, listening within her. My mind blocked it, but my body remembered and showed it to me. Beyond my own delusions. I have lived a long time without her. Yes, I have. But I guess the child within wanted to try one last time to beat on that dead heart of hers and see if my mama would come back to life.
I am just feeling discouraged. I’ll go to bed and tomorrow I’ll feel better. I wish to forget. Maybe God will erase my mind and body while I sleep so I don’t have to feel it anymore. It would feel so nice to feel special, and happy again. This has really been a downer, looking at her shit on me. I value my reputation and she got me all wrong. I am a good person raised by a stranger she does not know. So how can she get me at all? She has not read about adoptees and there issues, how can she understand like that?
I know one thing she does not take constructive criticism well, but what do you expect from an only child. I am an only child, but Mama Jean did not let me be selfish and taught me to think of others. I have taken it a bit far, trying to do it right to make her proud. But its time for me to let my Mamas shit go. That is lame. And I just want to feel better. Looking at her and how she treats me, is so hard. It is hared to hear how she treats my sisters too. They don’t deserve that. They deserve a Mama full of love, not some control freak who has to have it her way or the highway. I played it her way, I had no choice.
But now it is time for my way, Gods way.