Cracks in the Armor

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” – Neil Gaiman

I am in a training class today. I know the information so it is really more of an audit than a class. Our org effectiveness department asked me to audit a new offering by our primary training vendor.

So I sit and audit.

And I hold back tears.

I have a few cracks in my reunion armor. My self talk of its not me, its okay my daughter doesnt want to know me, its not me, its not me, its not me is weakened. I need to cry. I want to scream. I want to collapse into the fetal position and whimper for a few hours.

I don’t think the training vendor would appreciate that. It might be distracting to those that are really here to learn.

So I hold back the tears. There are so many there my eyes hurt and my throat is constricted. I pray no one attempts to talk to me for I will start to blubber.

Two very close friends had wonderful reunion meetings this week. They shared all their feelings and experiences and photos. One I could take. Two in one week I cannot.

The thoughts of days gone by sneak up. The doubt. The anxiety. The deep well of sadness.

I wanted to write my daughter today. To chatter on about my latest hair color change, others random news, but I cannot. I am committed to the contact schedule and giving her space. I don’t want to give her another panic attack or make her throw up at the thought of me. She has made it clear she doesnt appreciate contact.

So I stifle the feelings, hold back the tears, and keep on with the self talk.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

It is adoption and the horrible things it does to the most primal connection one can have.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

Its not me. Its not me. Its not me.

11 Thoughts.

  1. I am so sorry you are going through this. I am in reunion too. I am the daughter. I too, lose the resolve. I sometimes want to be like your daughter and just walk away. The feelings are so strong..The hurt is to much. I don’t though only because of guilt.
    The funny thing is that I love my mother, but I don’t know why I do..that is the problem. We are strangers, with such strong emotions. Its not normal to me.
    I don’t know what your daughter is going through. But even at 37 years of age, I am so confused that I too want to curl up in a fetal position and just cry.
    I want my mother, but I don’t want her.
    Confusing.
    I hope you feel better!!

  2. I am sorry you feel this way too. (My son’s father is a trainer and at one point I was anticipating you were going to say I talked to the trainer and guess what he has a child etc. etc.)
    Just remember as things are now is not how things always may be. As Linda says it is a confusing bunch of emotions, I believe that is particularly true for adoptees.
    Maybe you should keep a book like a diary and write to her anyway, the things you would like to share. Respect her wishes but give yourself an outlet. Maybe someday she will want to read it. Maybe she won’t but I think it wouldn’t hurt to find a place for your feelings.
    Kris
    Kris

  3. We talk the big talk, walk the brave walk, say what we’re going to do to get through it and even do it, tell how strong and light we feel. But the pain is still there and every now and then it raises its ugly head. And we fall back into the hole.
    One day at a time, my friend. (((TEN MILLION HUGS)))

  4. I agree with Kris completely, a journal that one day you can give to your daughter when she is prepared to have an open and honest and loving relationship with you, will allow her to see the continum of your love even while you were respecting her wishes and boundaries by not being in contact with her directly. If she has put up “walls” then this will help to tear them down, I would think.
    Be gentle to yourself Suz,
    Denise

  5. I guess I am one of those that understands. It is the hardest thing that I have ever done. I know now that nothing will ever hurt me. We can say that but there are days when it just plain sucks and it just plain hurts. I still cry my tears. Sometimes all it takes is a song. Heck I still can’t listen to Kelly Pickler’s song, I wonder. On the video, when she looks into the camara, oh hell do I recognize the look. Take a knee for now we all have your back.

  6. I’m Sorry Suz (((((((((hugs))))))))))
    I know how it feels but from the other way…
    I desperately want my mother and she does not want me.
    ADOPTION SUCKS
    Be kind to yourself Suz x

  7. I know that pain … one day at a time – one second at a time.
    I think it was a good suggestion to keep your own diary. I have at times promised myself I wouldn’t write to my son but words were just bleeding out of my heart. Sometimes I write, keep the letter for a day, read it the next, then shred. It’s helped me survive.
    I want to come cry with you, but perhaps we’d never stop. Try to live for today, those who need you today and hope for tomorrow.
    We are all survivors. Here’s to us.

  8. Something just occurred to me when I was re-reading Linda’s comment.
    I have no idea if this is Linda’s situation or your daughter’s and I don’t mean to imply it. This is just what my son told me.
    He did not have a very positive adoptive experience, despite having wealthy parents, he did not make it out of high school, did drugs, had a brush with the law. He is doing great now but believe me he is a self made man. He has told me often that it pains him to see my daughter and her accomplishments and our happy family. (My daughter is 20 years younger than he is – too traumatized to have another until I found him.)
    Clearly your daughter has accomplished alot but maybe there are aspects of your happy family that she needs to come to terms with.
    Probably all this speculating drives her nuts but what can I say. We are here to support each other.
    Kris

  9. hugs to you (((Suz)))
    It is not you. Just like it is not me, or any of the other mothers, fathers, children who are adopted, or the adults who were adopted. It is not any of us.
    Sometimes, what I do, is think of what I would tell a first mother friend, (because I tend to treat others better than myself, and say nicer things to them) and then I say it to myself.
    Because, it is not our fault. It’s systemic. We didn’t have a chance. And now, we are all suffering for it. But, we are not suffering alone. We have each other. Reminders of it not being us, because we can’t all be bad, wrong, sinful. To the contrary, it is because we are strong, powerful, beautiful, full of creativity and life that we were targeted. But, it is because of their inadequacies, insecurities, greed, those that steal children and then sell them. Who could ever justify that action? It is them. Do not take responsibility for their actions and sin. Let them keep it. They deserve it.

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