Adoption/Holidays, hurt! Thoughts

I always have a hard time during the Holiday season. It is like someone found a knife that has been stuck inside me all my life and slowly they twist it, and it reminds me it is there… MwsR <3

If I can be honest with you, it is hard to imagine a holiday season that has not brought me equal shares of joy and pain. I have a lovely immediate family and you would think that they alone could heal my broken heart. Sadly, no  one ever can, not really. I am my own worst reminder of things that could have been…

We have all been there and done that. We can be our own worst enemies when that happens.

I hate having to “wish upon a star”, I want all the stars wish for me!!!!!!!!

I am tired of feeling lost, unconnected, forgotten, dismissed, and so forth. For me, it is in relation to my childhood and my adoption. I know that part, I really do. I have an issue with all of it, how I was deceived, lost, and well…not thought of. I should of had many years side by side with those that I so desperately searched for my whole young and young adult life.

This is just me, being as real as I can be!

So much time has passed, so many lies left unsolved, so many wrong decisions, and so little cherished moments. Sometimes I actually must be having a pity party for myself, because it feels so all-consuming and like I am a rat in a trap, with no way to ever escape.

I feel cheated, I feel lots of sorrow, lots of hurt. I may never truly heal from all the damage that those I looked to. to be my helpers and parents, and caregivers and such, have done. I am angry, sad and in a whole lot of confusion. I wish I knew why my life turned out into what it did, and why no one ever wanted me to know my birth family and why it was that others kept me from those who would go on to be a great part in who I am and became. Holidays remind me of that, all of that and more.

Holidays are definitely not for me to feel special or good , I have come to this conclusion. I must just accept that the past should stay past and I should move forward and without regret. EASIER SAID THAN DONE. I sometimes think, I could swap my life from someone else’s but what good would that be, I mean really. I do not know anyone I would want to switch lives with. I would not have my husband, kids the family I have now.

I guess I will try and quit whining. I have a good life, people that love me and a life that makes me better, want to do better, and helps me want to be a good person.

Moral of this story….”whining”

It is to make the most of every day you have been given and to go forward and not stay in the past. A person’s past can and often does make a prisoner of those who go there. Being adopted was not the worst thing in my life, and it really should of never been bad to begin with. It was though, and in living through it, moving through it and past it, I have some valuable lessons in the school of mankind. I take with me the ability to stay back in that hurt and pain or to help others move from their own. I can help others to feel that there is a way from all the past  mistakes, hurts, and grasps of those who seek to hurt us. We can empower others, ourselves and we can move into a beautiful place with our lives.

Holidays are such a reminder of things that could have been , for me… They do not have to be for you. I can take that memory and lay it down when I get tired, when I feel anxiety or pressure. I can take those feelings and place them at the feet of the one in whom I believe has the power to carry those burdens for me, his name is Jesus. He alone not any man, can help me, can help you and can help anyone who desperately seeks his help.

No I am not trying to force a religious view on you, or help you to accept Jesus, that i your own decision, you alone make that . But I am here to help others in what I do or do not write, what I say or do not say… You get the jest. Please do not let past things take your future joy, your future peace or your future.

Will Holidays always suck for me? Yes and NO. I can choose what to allow into my inner peace. So can you! See just typing this different outlook than I started out with.

Here is to a wonderful Holiday season for all and a remembrance of the strength you have inside yourself, and that it has always been there.

MwsR <3


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Just a kid…/Realism share

 

 

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I was just a kid. I hurt the same as anyone else. I guess maybe more since a kid tries always to imagine a good world. A world where no one whispers in their ear how stupid and gullible they seem to be. A world where magic lies in wait around every thought in a pleasant kid’s dream. I never had much of those kinds of dreams, it would seem.

I often visualized unicorns and stuffed toys, real animals, and lots of fun. Seldom did I dream at night, of glorious things, I had too much fright. I often looked at my curtains and all the different designs they had. I would make out a figure or object from the designs. Sure that there was meaning in those things I picked out of the different designs. Actually thinking back, it was tricks of my mind. How you can see something that actually is not there, because you have imagination with a flair.

Sometimes at night I would cover myself from feet to head, with covers and stuffed animals I had on my bed. I hoped that whatever was out in the night, would leave me alone because I felt I was hidden. Sadly, I never was. I know that now as an adult looking at the life I had as a kid. As kids, we think we can hide from things, I guess that with me it was the same.

A kid should never have to worry about being hid, if they do then something is really wrong. In some cases, it is an active imagination that lends way to being scared. In other cases, it is a human being that actually frightens the kid in a un intentional way or a very intentional way. My case was the latter one.

It was simply not my fault that I felt afraid. Not my fault that I wanted to hide away. I was simply trying to be okay and stay that way. I did not trust in no other way, except what I create , to protect me. I just knew no adult would believe me. I was afraid to tell anyone how I felt, also I did not have the words with which to adequately say how I felt.

No one acted as if they could tell, not my present family members, not my church, not my friends or my teachers. I felt like the only person in the world who had a secret. I felt like my secret was one of shame. I often took upon myself the blame. It was not my fault, I see that now. I wish my adult self could have talked to my kid self. I would have warned her and shared with her that is something not her fault, something that should have been noticed, seen by others, and nothing self-taught.

I would had given her, my kid self, a big hug and tell her to tell. When she cried at night as much as she could, I would have wiped her tears and loved her. I would had stood right by her bed as she slept through the night, and in case she woke up with a heart full of fright. I would protect her, my kid self, I would love her like nobody else.

I deserved to be a kid, have kid dreams, have a kid fun-filled life. Instead I had nightmares that came in at night, and during the day. My nightmares came from those with two legs. I deserved to be loved and told I was actually fine the way I was. I deserved to be told that I was a blessing not a curse. I deserved lots of love and a safe place to be…I deserved it, I was a kid, you see.

This kid grew up and became like I am today. Too much hurt to bury, too little love to stay in that place. I separated myself and those I now love. This was an act of love not hate. I wanted to be free from that time in my life, it had changed and taken so much for me, I did not want to give it everything, I did what I had to do, I did not want to forever be ‘blue”.

I had to forgive, first and foremost to continue living in love. I took my power in doing that from Heaven above. I in my human state would had only lived with a bunch of hate. If someone has done you wrong and you cannot forgive them, you give them power over you. Forgive them, it is so hard to do, but you must. You deserve to be whole and you deserve to be loved. You deserve to love again. So forgive them, I know you can.

MwsR  <3

 

Adopted, yes me!/ Personal story share

I already post so much daily but I had something I needed to share.

 

I am adopted. Many things around that helped me to become who I am today. I know there ae many of you out there who have contemplated adopting and I would not want to discourage that by any means. I just want to talk about my story. I know there are many out there like me, who have a story different from the ones you hear. The television, books, and news make adoption out to be the best thing sometimes, and while that is the case for many, it is not for others.

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I am not a “bash adoption person”, on the contrary…

If you can love someone completely, without bias or harm, then do it! Lots of children, and others need to be adopted. They need love, nurturing, caring and a stable home environment.  If though you are seeking adoption for any other self satisfying urges, desires or fulfillment, or to be a “savior” to someone then you might want to think about it over again. No one wants someone to adopt them out of pity or because you feel like being a good Samaritan. They want actual caring, selfless people. Humans are and must not be an “agenda” for anyone seeking monetary praise. You are not here to necessarily “save” another individual. You might find you are the one who they save. Just saying.

I was adopted as an infant. I did not have my world turned upside down by being ripped out of the arms of my biological parents. I did not have a life where I was taken from the only family I had and given away to some orphanage. I was not found on a door step.

I was adopted by a family member. I was adopted in a court of law. I was too young to decide where I wanted to go and frankly I did not have a difficult time being placed in my relatives home. I was a baby! Some other people may not have had the same experiences as I but that is okay.

My biological father died before my adoption. He was fatally shot. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My biological mother was alone for the first time with two kids. She did not fair well with all that, let’s just say. She was not able to care for me and my sister. She had to leave me with my grandfather, and then I was adopted by my Aunt.

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I never really understood the power of that dark period for my biological mother back then. I figured liked most she was taking the easy route. I figured she was being a sorry mother. I never fully understood how she must have felt back then. Now, I can somewhat see what she must of felt. Years I hated her, yet hate seems like a too strong of word for how I felt about her. I never saw her till I became an adult, and then it was like a lightbulb came on and I felt something I never knew I could, about her. She made me sad, she made me feel pity for her. I realized the first time I saw her, that she was actually a HUMAN…yeah, seems she was not one until I actually saw her.

I so hoped that first time, I would get all my answers answered, but I did not. wanted to hug her and hear about how much she missed me, but I did not hear that. I also thought we would get together and go to her house and she would show me her life and what all she did, but that never ever happened. I was standing before my own biological mother and felt more of a stranger than I did her own flesh and blood. I felt so out-of-place and awkward. Here, I had waited 23 years to see her, to talk to her, to hug her, to know her… They say parting is such sweet sorrow, but that day felt like terrible sorrow. I was happy to finally see her, and I was delighted to hear her voice, smell her perfume, and touch her skin. Sadly, I was wanting this instant connection, this simultaneous combustion. It was not there.

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I was more at home in a hotel lobby than I felt with her. That was okay because I was determined for us to change all that. 

Some times things do not go as we plan…sometimes they never will. We should expect the least from someone and we will never be disappointed.

I was finally face to face with this ICONIC figure in my life. Even though she was not an active participant in my life, that did not matter, she was. I found myself looking her up and down and studying her talk, studying her walk, and mannerisms. I was soaking all that up like a “sponge in water”.

To be continued…

20160913_172253MwsR <3

 

 

(Blue) Short version of a long complicated story.

 

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She always did see things from her skewed perspective. After all ,that is what she had been told since she was just a young thing. Normal was really not a word you would use when describing her. She had a face with freckles and her eyes were blue, matching her inner heart. Her ambitions in life were too simply live a fuller and more loved one then she had before becoming an adult. This is a story of a the Blue Hearted Girl, Blue was her name.

Blue often sat out in the woods not far from her home. The spacious woods were her calm place, her place to pretend and feel safe. She often pretended to be running a motel and the creatures in the woods, all the way down to the bugs she would find, lived there. She enjoyed hearing the birds sing so sweetly to her each and every day she arrived. She thought they actually were singing to her.  This was how her imagination worked. In her pretend world she was loved by all that met her.  She loved this pretend world and that was what she ran to as fast as she could each day.  Her family life was not as enticing as the pretend world and she really felt like a stranger there and she felt left out. in her own home.

Blue often went for a walk to her creek out back of her home. She loved wading in the creek and also gathering clay from the creek bank. There was lots of clay in her creek. She really never made anything significant but it was fun to sit and manipulate that clay into whatever she wished to make.  Once Blue saw a beige snake in her creek, she watched it wiggle free of the creek’s current and crawl the creek bank to dry land. There was lots to see at the creek, She remembers her father telling her that every animal around there comes to that creek when they were thirsty, so she would often just hide along the creek bank and watch with much anticipation as to what came there . That creek, in a lot of ways, taught her about nature.

Blue had a younger brother and an older sister, and she fit right smack in the middle of their ages. She was petite and skinny, while her brother and sister were not. She had really fine , straight hair, and they both had thicker, wavy hair. She had blue eyes, they had the same. That was the closest she came to looking like them. She didn’t care though, she never really concerned herself with all that. Apparently though her brother and sister did not share her lack of interest. They constantly were reminding her of how she did not look like them, and how she kind of did not fit in. That really never bothered her too much either, she just wanted to be happy.

Blue when she was small, would ride her tricycle around the front yard tree and pretend to be in a race against all things. Even the ants that were underfoot had a stake in that pretend race. The tree would encircle was a large tree with skinny limbs all stemming from a large trunk and the blooms on this tree were her favorite color, pink. She loved when the wind would blow and the blooms would fall all around her. She had pink carpet in her room even, she really  loved the color pink. Her tricycle was even pink. It had pink streamers cascading from the handle bars. This tricycle even sported an awesome pink, plastic weaved basket. She was definitely all about pink.

Blue had a swing set, on it was two swing seats, a double seated push swing and a slide, that was metal, and a lift bar swing in the very middle.The slide would be so hot from the sun sometimes that she had to put water on it some to cool it off before sliding on it. This slide was so tall to her though, she often times sat on the top of it imagining that she was looking down at another world. She loved to imagine and pretend.  This swing set was blue, and white. She often would grab the lift bar swing and put herself in it and sit and swing , She never really felt any fear when she did those type of things. Fear really never entered her mind back in the early years of her life.

It was not until she reached her teenage years that things changed a whole lot for her. Life was not as carefree anymore, she was in school and never really had much time to come home and play. She saw her swing set sitting there each day she arrived home from school.  Sadly, she was not allowed to go outside as much as she did when she was younger. Now she had chores and homework and things to do besides pretend. This is around the time her heart began to change.  If she could have stayed little longer she would have because being a teenager proved to be less and less fun.

When most of her friends were going to the skating rink or hanging out at each other’s house she was at her home, doing chores. The first time she was made to vacuum was at the age of 9. now though it seemed her parents wanted her to do more. Sometimes she felt like she was only there for that. She wanted to go outside and ride her  red Murray bike but seldom did she ever get to. She had been given that bike on Christmas for a present and still had not mastered fully riding a bike. Yes, she was a teenager that could not ride a bike. That is because no one helped her, no one gave her time to. All her friends was under the impression though, that she could ride a bike, they would have laughed at her if they knew she couldn’t. So she never told them otherwise. She often made out like her life was as normal as theirs and that she had a good home life, like they imagined her to have had. Unfortunately, it really never was.

Still in her teenage years, where the things in her life became more cumbersome rather than fun, she felt so alone. She knew that life for her friends was so much easier and carefree, why couldn’t hers be? Instead she was left alone with her father each Saturday while her mother bought groceries and went shopping. This time alone was never a good time. She frequently hid in her bedroom or snuck out and went to the woods. This was to get away from her father. he was not like her friends fathers. Her father was different. he made her feel uncomfortable and disgusting. He had affection for her that was not normal. He thought of her in a most wrong way. Why could her father not be normal? She often wondered. She also blamed herself a lot for the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel.

This unnatural attraction was most certainly uncomfortable, to say the least. Blue hated it, and despised the fact that while her friends all wore gowns to sleep in at night, she wore jogging pants and tried to hide herself in her clothes as to not draw attention to the woman she was becoming with her body.  She found herself staying ore and more in her bedroom and locking her door, just to avoid the man she knew as her father. She wanted to runaway many times, start over somewhere else, but she never did. She was destined to live there and she done that the best way she knew how.

What bothered her was the fact that despite the unnatural way her father treated her, her siblings nor her mother seemed to notice. I guess it was not awkward for a mother to come home and see her  teenage daughter sitting on her husbands lap. Maybe the fact that one does not want to admit there is an issue was the reasoning behind all that. Sadly though no one ever noticed or if they did they ignored it.  While her friends were wearing bathing suits and enjoying the tans they got , she was hiding out in her room. She had lived with abnormal for so ling that it felt weird to spend the night with her friends and see the interactions between her friends and their families, especially their fathers. She could never had imagined being that “free” just to be in her home. It was such a different world she had. Her friends thought she was just shy and reserved but she was really trying to protect herself from any other man who would see her in a sexual way; yes, even her friends fathers. She didn’t want to risk it. Her friends never knew.

Once she was out sunbathing, this is before the actual understanding of the actual thought process that her father had concerning her. Her father approached her, he got down in a sitting position by her lawn chair and looked at her from head to toe and told her how beautiful she was. He also said that there was no one that beautiful to him. It was at that moment she felt most uncomfortable and left and went inside, never to sunbathe outside at her home, again, After that moment she knew she needed to hide and hide she did.

Faultless she was, but never knowing that, she blamed her growing up , maturing for the way she was looked at. Not that growing up isn’t hard enough for a kid. She blamed that growing up for her deepest pain. Sometimes she almost wanted things to never change, nothing to change, not even into another day of her life. She blamed herself, blamed her father, and wanted it all to end.  It should not hurt to be her, but it did. Her heart turned blue in those days, years, she had to live there with him. Somehow her heart still managed to continue beating.

Blue always wanted to be loved the way other girls are by their parents. She wanted to cherish her father not fear him. Although she never did anything to deserve the torment she had received she felt somehow in the wrong. What should have been a wonderful loving childhood turned into one like you can not imagine. She preserved parts of her heart in spite of that so she could give it to those that most deserved it. Blue made many more wonderful stories and lives happily with her own family now. She feels blessed to live and she distanced herself from those that wished her harm. That is how she survived.

If only Blue had a chance to create her real world like she had done for her pretend world, she would have created one filled with genuineness. Her pretend world would have had a girl who lived in a beautiful home, one where she could have her unconditional love and be nurtured. There would have been no fear. Life , however cannot be created that way. Wouldn’t it be great, though?