We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn. – Henry David Thoreau
I have lots to write about but very little time. So I shall offer a list post.
- Plugged – I was plugged on Bitch Magazine. Thank you Dawn. I encourage all of my readers to go read Dawn’s article on Bitch.
- Holiday Gift for my Daughter – Thank you to Denise for the recommendation of the National Endowment for the Arts. I took her suggestion and made a donation in honor of my daughter to The Big Read. The Big Read is one of the initiatives sponsored by the NEA. I sent my daughter an email letting her know this. I received no response of course. Thats okay. As I told her, her refusing my love does not cease it from being. I feel good that I am able to acknowledge her through an effort that I feel honors her. (Though I must admit I would much rather buy her something personal and send her a gift for Christmas, or perhaps something new for her latest apartment in NYC.)
- Angels Lost Found and Coming Down – Saw Tran Siberian Orchestra last week. Their song “An Angel Came Down” sent me into a puddle of tears. It always does. I really need to blog about this but as noted above, no time. In short, the song brings about wild flashbacks to the eighteen years I lived with out knowing where my child was. I used to speak to the heavens, to the angels, and pretend I was talking to her. My feeling was that at least she and I saw the same stars. It was the only thing we had in common during the years we were separated. Maybe we saw them from a different angle but they were the same stars. We shared the night sky. To me it was our private chat room, those twinkling stars above. Additionally, there is a lyric in the song “to bring something back, this angel was told, that no one could touch, but angels could hold”. I couldnt touch my daughter during the lost years but I hoped that angels would hold her and that some day I could “bring something back” when I found her. Again, more to come here but you should get the gist (and maybe sense why it makes me cry so much).
- Conformity – I am also researching Asch Conformity experiments. I was recently asked a good question wherein the interviewer was trying to understand why, if I planned to raise my daughter, always wanted and loved my daughter, did I succumb to the pressure exerted on me by my parents, church, society, baby brokers and promissory notes. The answer seems obvious to me but to many it is not. They believe that motherhood, love for your child, should be strong enough to combat those forces and if you are not strong enough to combat those forces, well golly gee, you are an unfit mother and its a darned good thing your child got a spanking new parent. I thought about quoting a list from Origins Canada, I considered talking about Milgram. I pondered citing a friend and former solider, who has PTSD from active combat in Somalia. He killed many people and did horrible things and he knew it was wrong. Yet he was a soldier and followed orders. These thoughts, this question, prompted me to start researching Asch. (I never answered the question asked to me. It brought up too many conflicting feelings, I couldnt even answer. Maybe some day I will.)
- Black and White – I am amazed at this wierd little paradigm, this shadow stuff, that I have going on. I am, for the first time in my life, feeling completely and wholly accepted and loved. My fiance is an amazing man. Our conversations are amazing. Our home is amazing. Our sex life (yes, I did just say that) is amazing. I feel incredibly loved. What amazes me the most is that there seems to be some odd little parallel going on. The more I open my heart, the more love I let in, the more I seem to hurt in relation to my daughter and my adoption trauma. (And I thought I had hurt as much as I possibly could already!). The resulting effect is a bit disabling. I am struggling with it a bit. Not really sure what I will do with this curious side effect of all the love in my life. I suppose it makes sense, intellectually. I had emotionally numbed myself for years. I had to. It was the only way I could survive the pain. Yet in keeping the pain out, I also kep the love out. That is not the case today. As noted, not doing so well with handling the negative stuff. All I seem to be able to do is cry – alot. I am choosing to assume it is some part, a good part, of my recovery and healing.
- Extraction – I have pulled out of three major adoption related activities. The most significant one is that I have ceased owning and moderating a yahoogroup formerly associated with my ehbabes.com site. This was incredibly difficult to do. I have owned that list and moderated it and friended its members for over six years. They are like my family. However, I had to do it. For me. That list and the other adoption related events I have pulled out of (one of them was even a paying position) are taking too much from me, from my life, from the emotional headspace. Adoption has taken enough of me. It has damaged my life beyond words. It is time I stop the madness. There was no informed consent in 1986 but there is today. I am the one choosing to let adoption have so much of my life. It. Must. Stop. I am filling up the time and headspace left by the removal of these activies with yoga classess (highly recommend Feldenkrais Awareness Through Movement), studying for CLEP exams, and spending time with my loved ones.
Life is good.
P.S. I received another one of these emails. Sigh.