I know a blog is not the usual place to reprimand you daughter for her actions, but I am adopted. If your adopted? You get that. It’s like life takes on a whole other thing and what others do just does not work.
My daughter Chelsie Lynn has been pulling the same shit my Mama has. And I am so done with my Mama just upending my life any longer. I am putting her on notice. I don’t cotton to this kind of behavior. And Chelsie know that. We talk things out and through. So, she knows, that when I’ve had enough? It’s crunch time. And she also knows, she can’t hide from me.
Am I proud of doing it like this? Hell no! I am determined to get to the bottom of what is causing her to act like this. Yes. By am I happy that the only way is to make it all public? No. Not in the least. But this Mama does what’s needed, not what comfortable. I learned that from Mama Jean. Thanks to her, I am strong and mindful. She a rock.
Being adopted means that adoption over lays every facet of your life experience. It means to me that everything is colored because of adoption. Adoption means that I must figure out how I am without DNA Mirroring. It means I must figure out who I am without even the basic that other kids take for granted. Like medical history for one, and mental health history for too, and my heritage lastly. There are others, but these are the post basic and yet the most important.
Being adopted means your working with a deck that’s missing a few cards, so the game is much more challenging to play. And many times it’s frustrating. It’s like your whole life is a crap shoot. What do I really like? Do I even have a right to want at all? So much of my equation’s missing and many times I feel I am solving for x y and z and really am trying to figure it out without all the numbers before me. I have to check within for what feels right. That takes a lot of time and effort, effort that for years just could not be exerted because I was busy, being married, having kids, and working.
Now, I am taking the time. Now I am Doug the work to figure out many things that I have missed along my way. I am sure, Chelsie upset because I did not see something. As a Mama, that matters. I don’t take my Motherhood lightly. She was sent to me and so, she matters. Plan and simple, she matters deeply. Just like all my children. And she upset about something and doing what I did, stuffing it and going on and I know now, that just doesn’t work.
Being adopted is like being the owner of a Ferrell Cat. Being adopted is like being born in a car with no tag, you don’t get instruction and have no idea what your vehicles abilities are. Many times my brain knows, yet my body does not. It’s like a runaway train and does what it wants or what was learned before adoption. Sometimes I feel like a ticking time
Bomb. It’s like, my body acts up and my brain can’t even stop it. I really don’t enjoy it when my body takes over and I don’t even know what the heel just happened.
I’ve gotten upset with my kids, and gone to far, and have had to go back and apologize for what I don’t even understand just happened? I’ve married men, that didn’t care for me like they professed. I’ve left them, and they never tried to make it better. What’s a girl to do? For me? Keep going, keep learning, keep trying to get it right. And all that, without even knowing why I just acted like I did. It’s a mystery that I am trying to solve.
Being adopted means my kids are wounded too. They don’t know it? By they got my wound by transference. They are all deeply sensitive to many things. And as much as I have tried to be strong there comes a time when you have to open up to the world and show them the wound, in hopes that others like you will rise and back you up so your kids can see, your not crazy, just hurting. And I hate that I could not spare them that. I do. Adoptees love their children. Do many of us, our children are our only DNA family. And for us? It means we finally have blood family. That huge.
But for the children of Adoptees, it means that they suffer with us. My kids have been my healers and my challengers. They show me where I am so I can get out. They have spoken truths no one else could because counselors just don’t see. But children see what others can not and my kids have helped me so much along life’s way. When I was so turned around and living a life that was not authentic. Adoptees live the lives we are told. We live lives that have painted over what once was. And we try hard to do our best. We do.
And I know my children, want me to move on and be happy again. But Mamas got to clean up the mess made by my Mama. Because my Mama can’t even see the mess. So this blog is me cleaning out my shame cave about my Mama. And I am sharing with the world to show, how difficult it is. To show my children how to clean their own shame caves out. I admit, it’s dramatic. Yes. Emotions trapped within that are finally given permission to escape, are messy, and sound crazy. I get that.
But cleaning house looks crazy too! You throw out all that no longer serves, I to the pile and scrub like hell. It’s a rearranging of a mindset. It’s exposing the mold and decay caused by stuffing wet feelings in a corner and letting them just rot. It’s like an overhaul of the mind. Throw this out, let this in. Many things I have just said out loud. Just so they could fly away and I could see clearer what is. I have dreamed about my family for years!! Ask my kids.
And they are sick of it, sick of hearing it. But this is who I am and adoption affected me deeply. So deeply that my kids can feel it. We all want to blame. This is not blame. This is acceptance of what is and what has happened and how it affected me inside. This is truth. Mine. Exposed to the light of day. Sun light is good. But many don’t want to pay the price for freedom by telling the truth. I want freedom from these feelings that haunt me. And this is how I am getting it.
I know. Chelsie’s upset with me and felt I should have done better. I get it girl. My Mama should have done better too. But she didn’t. She didn’t have all the info at the time, just like me. I don’t know that if my Mama had known what this would do to me, that she would have done anything different. She got her own ideas. But ideas change when we learn new things. That’s why I have spoken out about my deepest feelings, to give her some fresh water to her stagnant idea.
I don’t think Chelsie will let me down forever. She’s just thinking. She quite the person herself. And she needs this intel from me to help her see many things that she feels and has no words for. She’s so compassionate. And my Mama can be very persuasive with her ideas. But Mamas met her match. I don’t take to people blocking. It’s unhealthy. And I do not take to her poisoning my babies mind any further than she has by adding and abetting my own child in avoidance behavior. We all must clean up.
That’s my truth today. Clean up or Mama will. Chelsie knows what that means. And God is on my side and hers. But we all must do the work to see the end results. This is not the end to anything except a way of life. Truth clears the air. Truth heals the wounds. Truth helps us see beyond what is, so the new can have room to be.
Thanks for diving deep with me today.