I decided to write from my point of view what it is like to be adopted. Some people may be able to relate and some may find it interesting to know what adoption is like.
When I was around 5 or 6 years old, I asked my mother the where do babies come from question. She did not go into a bunch of details, but did her best to explain. I asked her if I grew inside her tummy and she told me, “You didn’t grow under my heart, but you grew into it.” She explained that God had chosen me to be with a different family than my birth parents. She then went on to explain what adoption meant the best way she could so that I could understand it. There were times I would look in the mirror and wondered who I looked like, thought that my bio mom was perfect in every way and so on. I was never made to feel like I was a mistake or accident, I was accepted and adopted into a good family. My mother told me that she would pray for my bio mom every night while she rocked me. She knew one day that I would want to meet her. There were some underlying medical issues that I went through as a child and my parents had no medical history on my bio parents. It made it a bit trying for them to know if what I had was family history illnesses. As a child it’s hard not to think about where your bio roots came from. For years I wanted to know who did I get my height from, where did my ancestors come from, who’s eye color do I have, are my bio grandparents still alive, would my bio mom and dad ever want to meet me…. I could go on and on with the questions. I mentioned that I thought my bio mom was perfect. My thoughts as a child were that she had never been in trouble with the law, didn’t do drugs and was stable. I wondered more about my bio mom than I did my bio dad when I was growing up. I thought about how it was possible for one or both of my bio parents could be a celebrity. Hey, it could happen, right? When I was around 14 or 15 years old, I was looking through my adoption records and found an envelop that was taped up with what looked like packing tape; it had my name on the front of it. At that moment, I felt like I had been betrayed because my mother told me she would not hide anything from me about my adoption. I took the envelop and ran upstairs to open it in my room. Right in front of me, on that piece of paper was a physical description of my bio mom and some info about my bio dad along with a little medical history. I don’t know how many times I read that document over and over. I eventually confronted my mother about the document and she told me she felt like I couldn’t handle reading it at that time. She did take me back to the adoption agency so that I could find out if there was any way I could get some answers to my questions. The lady told me that I could write letter to her and she would research my file to find the answers. By age 18, my questions started to get more answers when I started communicating with my bio mom. She and I had registered on a database that would match us up should one of us join it. On my 19th birthday, I finally got to meet her along with my two half sisters. It felt awkward at first but I slowly warmed up. The only mom and dad I had known were my parents, but it was interesting to get to know my bio mom as well. My question about where my ancestors was answered along with some others I had. Things slowly started to sink in that my bio mom was not the perfect person I had imagined in my mind. She is human like everyone else and makes mistakes.
I found out that my ancestors were coal miners in Alabama and Kentucky and that in some way I am related to a family that makes clarinet reeds. I also found out that my ethnic background consist of Dutch, English and French hence why part of my blog has the name Dutch in it.
Part two will continue on with more experiences….
It has been 18 years since I went through one of my dark times in life. In 1995, age 14, I tried committing suicide by overdosing on pills. There was so much I was dealing with at that point in my life. I was still adjusting to moving here to Baton Rouge in 1993, the sexual abuse I suffered when I was a small child played on my mind a lot, I made myself sick over the wondering about my biological family and just felt like I was a waste of space. I had confided in a ‘friend’ at school about the sexual abuse and how I thought about suicide often to end the pain. Instead of this girl showing some sort of sympathy, she told me, “You should just kill yourself to get out of this crazy world.” All that did was add to more of my suicidal thoughts and when I got home from school, events unfolded. How is it we have a hard time remembering good memories sometimes, but we can remember the bad stuff that happened to us much better? I say this because I remember the whole thing that led to my overdose. Here it is, I have someone that just told me I should go kill myself, I already feel like shit and I just want to be left alone. I went directly upstairs and turned on the computer so I could continue writing my story I have talked about. My Dad was at home with a bad sinus infection and sleeping in his chair; he heard me run up the stairs. He must have had super hearing at that point because he heard me turn on the computer and told me to get off of it. Things escalated to a yelling match between the two of us when he got upstairs. One thing led to another, I locked myself in my room, took a handful of my sleep medication, wrote a suicide note and then laid in my bed hoping to die. A few hours later, my brother’s girlfriend found me passed out and unresponsive. Only thing I can remember from that point was her lightly slapping my face to try to wake me up. Close to midnight, I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital. My mom was pleading with me to just go back home with her and that she would hide all the knives to keep me safe. I looked her dead in the eye and told her, “You can hide stuff all you want to, but I will kill myself in front of you.” I spent 72 hours (Friday/Saturday-Monday) in there with teens who seemed worse off than I was. Trust me, when they found out I tried to commit suicide, they let me know how stupid I was for trying to do that. I had my medications changed and have been on my long way to recovery. Over the years since then, I have had more battles to fight with suicide attempts, alcohol addiction and finding out who I really am.
Suicide is never an answer, it just leaves more questions. If you need help to overcome suicidal thoughts, please call your local suicide prevention hotline, they are there to help you. In the U.S., call 1-800-273-8255; this is the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. Your life is worth living regardless what others say. Do your best to ignore those who taunt you and make you feel like you can’t achieve anything. Believe that things will get better.
On this lazy Saturday, I thought I would write some random facts about myself.
1. When I have a plate of food, I have to eat the servings one at a time and they can’t touch the other food on the plate.
2. Once I get hook on a certain genre of music, I stick to listening to it all the time.
3. Even though I am lactose intolerant, I still consume milk and cheese when I know it will make me sick.
4. I keep people at arms length and don’t let anyone get close to me. If I feel threatened with closeness, I push people away; I have major trust issues.
5. I am a deep thinker at times.
6. I am very verbal when I’m talking to one person, but if someone else joins the conversations, I’m not verbal anymore.
7. I like being alone more than being around a large group of people. If I have been in a large crowd for a long time, I MUST be alone for a few hours to recharge; it drains my energy.
8. I have a short temper.
9. I don’t like people who are showoffs or think they are better than anyone else.
10. Even though I don’t let people get close to me, I like to help others who feel like they don’t belong to know they do matter to others.
On the 30th of October this year, it will be ten years since my daughter was born. She wished she could have been born on the 31st, but I told her the 30th is the night before Halloween and plays a part in it. She smiled and said she was okay with being born on the 30th.
I remember finding out that I was pregnant on my 22nd birthday. I was already engaged and planning my wedding; I knew there was going to be a lot of stress involved. I really could never see myself as being a parent even though I thought about it from time to time. I was scared out of mind when the pregnancy test came back positive. I was not ready to be a parent at 22! I had to grow up quick and learn the ropes of being a parent.
It has not been an easy road but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Only thing I would change is the physical abuse she went through with her ex-stepmother and the rapes that her ex-stepbrother committed against her. Both she and I are learning how to live on our own again and she always test my limits. I would never be nominated for Parent of the Year, but no parent is perfect. She looks up to me like I am a rock star. She loves to help me out with anything in the kitchen or when I’m helping my parents maintain their yard. She has an artistic side and can use so much paper to draw dress designs, flowers or anything else that comes to her mind. She cares about helping other people who don’t have a lot. She tries to imitate what I do whether it’s singing, playing guitar, playing the piano or writing. She has an upper hand on me with piano though, she took two years of lessons. She is really good with math but struggles in reading. I am opposite; really good in reading but struggle with advanced math like algebra and others. It all boils down to that she keeps me on my toes constantly. I dread the teen years that are ahead; mood swings and an attitude from Hell. I know I put my parents through Hell when I was a teen and drove them to the edge many times. Combine her Dad and I’s personalities and mischievous ways, it’s going to be one tough battle, but nothing tough love can’t fix.
Ten years have passed quickly. We will go though a lot over the next phase of life. Soon I will no longer be the rock star she looked up to; I’ll be considered Nurse Ratched at some point. On a happier note, happy early birthday to my sweet daughter!
We all have a dark side….
When I was younger, I was always following the rules and staying out of trouble. I was raised in a strict religious household and basically had the fear of God instilled in me. I’ve never been one to follow the latest trends or crowds. I was considered a nerd in middle and high school, and no one ever knew how to take me. It was not until 2007 when I unleashed my dark side to break away from being the nerd. I had to keep a certain standard while I was married. I wasn’t allowed to have any tattoos, piercings or anything else that would be considered ‘trashy’. When I separated from my husband, I felt like I was free to do what I wanted. I got into listening to Evanescence in the beginning of 2007 six months after my separation. I dyed my hair black, started dressing in black clothing and started listening to heavier music. My mom was so upset to see the change in me that she made the comment, “I’m scared you will show up with a vial of blood around your neck.” I told her that she was over reacting and that I had no reason to wear a vial of blood around my neck. I laughed when she said that she researched the ‘Gothic’ culture and that it was centered around death and satanic rituals. She was taking things waaaay out of line and thought I was turning away from my upbringing.
I eventually let my hair grow back out to it’s original hair color, changed up my wardrobe and added some lighter music back into my playlists. I don’t regret dressing the way I did or listening to the music I did. The heavier music helped me through that time and even today still helps me cope with some things in life.
We all have our dark sides so don’t be ashamed if you have one. We can’t be pure and innocent 100 percent of the time. What matters most is who will stay by you when you are going through your ark side. So if someone tells you that you can’t have your dark days, flip them off and say “I can and I will.”