I wonder what it takes to help people see what I see. And how do you explain how it felt to those who really don’t want rock bottom truth about it. What do you do when the world you live in, that includes your Mothers, and yet refuses to subscribe to the truth you speak?
What’s does it take? When will it be fashionable to be honest? When will it be permissible to speak freely? Evidently, my Mamas got a script I must read from, and their are many subjects that are just not spoken about openly. Openly. Openly. I love verbal freedom and mental freedom. I love letting my mind just go where it wants instead of where instructed to think and speak.
I guess some people think seeds die. I am a seed. And I have been dormant for years. But, I am pretty sure a good frost just came that broken this seed open. And what’s coming out and growing is love that’s been kept inside this seed. Of course I love the tree I came from. What seed hates it’s own Mother tree? I am planted far from her. Yes. But as we all know by now. Everything needed to grow a tree is within the seed. I am from a Linda tree and have been tended to by a Jean tree, who raised me to be like her. But I am me. My genetic predisposition was set at Conception. So. Training me to act like another has been most difficult. It’s like training an Oak tree to be a vine. Or a cat to be a dog.
And yet I am a bit different, now because of this altered reality. And it’s not easy being told your Crazy for seeing things a bit different. Especially since your lifes been so jerked around and has had so many changes in characters. Mamas got he scripts. Mama Jeans got hers. What’s mine again? Oh. Right. Read what they tell you to read. Great. I am really not like either of these woman, but am able to act similar in some ways. I don’t agree with their ideas about me. Neither do I condone their actions of denial towards my scripting changes.
I would love to see them walk a day in my shoes. I would love to see Mama have her personal powers stripped from her and to watch how she handles it. To be shit down and told what to say and feel and to not even think about her Mama. May she Rest In Peace. Does that sound mean? And yet no one even gave a shit that this was done to me? Ripped from one place and thrown into another, without even a care about how I might take this very change in my script? I was thrown into insanity. Forced to play a role that I was not. Grace. Oh grace. Where were you then?
Oh, But I was saved from a Mother who did not love me. Right. Right. What in the hell is wrong with helping her see the blessing in me? You left her crazy. It is crazy to think your child is curse. These are the dark thoughts that Adoption gave me. I am a good person who’s been treated like cattle, except for slaughtering me. Thank god. I am so grateful. Gag.
My children think me Crazy too. And that’s the feedback loop we are in. Mama started it by calling me a mistake. And then the snowball continued to grow. Lies are like that. And I do not appreciate my life, or myself being treated this way. And there are so many people brainwashed about adoption. They just say what’s told to them. But I know what it’s like to be cut off from your Mama, by your Mama. They do not. It’s like book learning and applicable learning. Experiences always wins over books.
And I held onto my Mama for dear life. I resurrected her within myself. She comforts me. The Mama I remember, comforts me. And if that Crazy? Then the world was Crazy to do me that way. Because it made me have to survive. And Mama was my focal point. She gave me hope for change. But. She’s not acting like she even loves me. She acts like she hates me. And what I think she hates is the confusion, now, between us both.
She hates the truth now, and she’s a Christian? Who feeds on god’s truth? She’s got gods word to hold too. But my truth seems to knock her off balance. Funny. Her truth did the same to me back in the day. Took me many years to overcome and function. Nothing made sense to me after Mama did me like this. You know? A Mothers teachings are foundational. And My Foundation was shattered. I recently bought some crystal singing bowls. The root Chakra bowl kept arriving broken. I finally got one that was whole. And the other day my eldest daughter said it fell off the table and broke. It’s official. My base is shattered for sure.
And I blog to find a way within myself to fix it. But there are a million pieces. And I have been doing this puzzle for years. I guess I thought that maybe My Mamas and I could do this together since they started it. They shattered me and didn’t know it. Cuz, I’ve done all I can to gain a better foundation. I didn’t even realize my foundation was shattered. But I’ve prayed. So God seems to be showing me where to look for the discomfort I feel. And is showing how to fix what’s been shattered. I guess I am now going to be a mosiac.
I can live with that. If the world can live with that. I am sick of being called Crazy by my own family. Especially my children. Done. If that’s what Chelsie Lynn wants to think about he Mama, well, get on with it. Just block me and be like your Grama. Just tell yourself you have no Mama. Like Grama has lived like I never was.
To forgive is Divine. By forgetting is the thing that takes work. Telling the tale is excruciating. I did not want to go here. And yet I am here. And Mamas rejected me again. So topical. When will we learn? I need to talk about this. This is the most I have talked about being adopted. Ever. I’ve felt like a child in a cage. It feels like human trafficking. And I felt kidnapped growing up. Frustrated. My parents here not like me. And yet neither is Mama evidently.
Trying to understand people you share no dna with is hard. And many things just don’t stick. Names for one. They don’t stick. Because I had no context to connect it too. And no one really realized that I was a foreigner and need a tour of my new world. They didn’t see I needed grace and compassion. Training I guess you would say. But. It was a fly by the seat of your pants training. Like boot camp. Strict. And foreign.
It’s hard to explain. Because I have felt these feelings so long. And I struggle to articulate what I mean so that Mama can understand. Mama Jean said yesterday that nothing I’ve said hurt her. And if that’s true? She never bonded to me then. And that’s how I feel. She loves me and hates me. It’s like I am Linda and yet not. I came from Linda. And I will not lie to make people feel comfortable when I did not feel comfort. I felt homesick.
I apologize for being so blunt. And I truly mean no harm. But I need to get this out it’s making me sick. My Mama’s truth is not my truth. I see their truth, but mine if different. And I am tired of paying the price for this. I did not do this. I was the child this was done too.
Thanks for diving deep with me today.
I really don’t want anyone to hate me anymore. But I must love myself enough to speak up.