Stay Tuned

“Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” – Buddha

I havent been writing much. I havent really been doing much of anything. This lack of activity is due largely to my health issues. I havent had the physical ability to focus, think, and oh yeah, walk for any length of time.

I am happy to report the medication does appear to be helping. I can walk now and only occasionally do I walk into a wall or sway the opposite direction from what I wish to go. My headaches are duller and I can focus a bit better. My glasses are on order (thank you Zenni Optical) and that will also help. I am apparently now slightly farsighted. Many thanks to Rebecca, Thorn and all other commentors who offered me support, guidance and personal experience.

There are two additional reasons for my lack of verbosity. One is adoption related and the other is not.

The one in the “is not” category is labelled my life. My life is very full. I have a new boss at work due to a reorg. I need to figure out the new work place. I am meeting new people, getting new duties and well, stressing about all of it. On the home front my children are getting deeply immersed in their schools. They have a ridiculous amount of homework each night. And by ridiculous I mean they have more homework than I remember having as a child. My evenings are a bit crazy with getting home, preparing dinner while home work is done. I run from child to child to help with this problem or that problem all the while making sure the pasta water does not boil over.   I am sure any working mom can understand. Simultaneously, my fiance will be attempting to catch me up on his day or ask a question about a piece of mail.  Dinner and homework usually wrap up by seven and it is from that hour to the next that the four of us try to decompress a bit and enjoy some time together. Bed time arrives around 8ish and by the time my two boys finish hiding on each other, jumping from bed to bed and brushing their teeth with the “shaving cream” iso active toothpaste, I am wiped.

At that point, I generally retire to my ox-blood colored family room and rest with my darling Rich, who is often sorely neglected by me during the craziness.  We continue our adult conversation and if we are energetic enough, tune into one of our favorite shows of late (FlashForward, Fringe, or one of the many crime dramas).

Add to all of the above, I am considering, again, going back to school. I am still muddling through divorce related financial drama even two years post divorce. I am planning a seven year old Boo-thday party (Halloween theme kids birthday party), attempting to migrate my site to a new platform, helping with searches, randomly thinking about a wedding in the next year, working on our fabulous home and more.

I frankly dont have the time to write. Doing what I love to do will inevitably result in someone or something neglected.

I love this and I hate it.

I love it because the things taking up my time are wonderful blessed things. I have a full wonderful life. I hate it because writing is my outlet, my spirit, my voice.

The second reason for my lack of writing is that I am in an angry stage. I am intensely angry at my daughter for no specific reason. While thoughts of her usually bring about a melange of feelings, lately I feel only anger. I wanna spit. I want to stomp my foot, raise my fist to the sky and scream. I want to write nasty emails (I dont). I want to thrash and flail.  I am enraged at adoption. I am tired of reading blogs. I am tired of being ignored by my daughter. I am tired of the damage it has done to all facets of my life. I am just so effing tired of the ignorance and stupidity and self-entitlement and gods-plan bullshit (see, that swearing? That is anger). I am frankly frakkin tired of being nice and supporting everyone and worrying about everyone elses feelings at the expense of my own.

I am fearful if I blog my anger will come through (haha, cuz like THAT never happens and this is an uber happy adoption blog, right? LOL). No really. I havent expressed one ounce of the rage I feel. I do my best to be rational and understanding and thoughtful.  However, every so often, that angry beast will poke his way to the surface and demand to be seen. I play a game of whack-a-mole with the beast.

When that beast is present I find myself all tied up. I am so busy fighting the beast, managing my life (see good stuff above) that I simply cannot form words. I am tongue-tied (or should I say finger-tied) with anger.

However, like the lunch I had yesterday, I am confident this too shall pass. I am searching for the emotional metamucil to push it along.

For now while I juggle my life and battle the anger beast I am a bit quiet.

Stay tuned.

19 Thoughts.

  1. Sometimes we all need a break from the madness. Just take it easy and do what you have to do. As for the anger… anger can be healthy. It motivates us to change what we believe to be unjust.

  2. Triona – I agree on the anger and its motivating qualities. That is typically what I do with it. However, sometimes, it gets a bit out of control and i cannot focus it appropriately. Takes me some time to reign it in and bring it back.

  3. Triona – Ha. To complicate matters, I am sure someone will pipe up that I should let it out…(not here on the blog). Its a little dance I do. Angry, not angry, good, bad, angry, not angry. Right now I am listening to some good angry music (Godsmack). It helps.

    : )

  4. I often don’t write when I most need to write, and I’ve never been able to figure out why that is.

    My partner and I were talking tonight (and last night and the night before; she’s doing a lot of processing) about how when she puts herself in someone else’s shoes she can only do it by imagining what she would literally do if she were herself with her background but doing what they do now. I think this has to be somehow related to her adoption/attachment trauma but I haven’t totally figured it out. I wonder if because you have this trauma bond with your daughter, it’s harder for you to get a more generous perspective on what she might be feeling (not that I’m saying you should). But I also think you’re more like me and a person who listens to other people’s pain and thinks about things from their perspective and history, so maybe I’m totally off the mark.

    Feel free to take your time. The blog will be here when you need it to be. And once you can stand up and walk fine, the whole world will seem better and brighter and newer, or at least that’s how it worked for me.

  5. ((((Suz)))) It’s difficult to be so overwhelmed, especially when health issues are involved. This shall pass. So will the anger. Adoption/reunion stages are very like those death and dying ones. Been there, still go there sometimes. Hang in and enjoy the good in your life.


  6. Between the health issues you’re dealing with, Suz, which are incredibly scary (not to mention the fact that they’re having a huge effect on your quality of life,) work (reorgs are incredibly stressful at the best of times) and keeping up with the kids and Rich, I’m more worried about you taking time for YOU than writing. I know though how much of you is communicated through your writing, but I hope you find a way to write as much as you need without exhausting yourself even more.

    As for the anger: I wish I had something helpful to say, but I don’t, so I’ll echo Judy and just offer a (((((((hug))))))).

  7. Ah. I see. Look after yourself. If there is anything I can do, let me know. Hugs from faraway Europe!

  8. Hi: just found you on BlogNosh, and have started reading your blogs. I can empathize with your anger at the whole adoption world, and how some of us have to pretend to like it sometimes in order to survive it.
    I’m an adult adoptee in reunion with my birth parents, and I find it extremely diffficult. It’s so heartening to read your side of the story. and BTW, your friend who quipped “why do you think your daughter would want to find you; after all, you gave her away” is insensitive and wrong. Paddle on over to my blog if you want to get the perspective of a daughter who very much wants to know her birthparents. (
    thanks for writing!

  9. Andrea – Thanks for visiting and hey, thanks to blognosh too for sending you here. I will indeed check out your blog. Oh, and empathy is also good.

  10. Suz, I found you from This Woman’s Work (Dawn). I am an adult adoptee, almost 40 years old, so you know that I am from the closed adoption era. My folks told me that I was adopted but could not give any information (they could not since they weren’t allowed to know either) about birth parents. As far back as I remember I knew I was adopted. I don’t recall feeling any particular loss or anything as a kid; I had a very good family and childhood. As I got older, I began to wonder about this other woman out there. Who was she?
    My parents had kept all the information they had from Catholic Family Services and the hospital. Notes the nurses kept about my first couple of weeks, family health notes, etc. Of course, no real info about birth parents. My parents were pretty great bout things. My Mom found a poem about me having 2 Moms: one who loved me, gave birth and gave me up out of that love (Now, I am learning about the unethical and outright evil side of adoption, but I think my parents truly believed it was a choice by birth mom and I think that it was as well). And a 2nd Mom who wanted to raise me, who was thankful for my birth Mom’s sacrifice.

    In 2005, I contacted Catholic Family Services to find my birth parents. I was born 1970 and they (CFS) kept records and, as a closed adoption, I had to petition for a 3rd party agent to contact my birth mom. If found, the agent would contact birth mom and let her know I was looking. There was a court fee and statutory fees that totaled like $400. Turns out, she was looking for me. We met for dinner that June.

    It was strange. She recognized me right off the bat. (I am a very large guy, and she was heavy as well. Apparently Ukrainian descent). Funny thing, my family (adoptive family) and my biological family have very similar ethnic backgrounds… eastern and norther European. But, some Native American on my bio dad’s side (who I will never find…but that’s another story). We talked for quite awhile. I wanted her to know that had had a great life. I guessed she probably wondered about me for 35 years and I wanted her to know I had a family who loved me wholly. Also, that my Mom was eternally grateful for her sacrifice. She (birth Mom, Marie) seemed good with that. I found out that I had a 1/2 brother and 1/2 sister. Marie was a college instructor and textbook author (I had just decided to go for a PhD). Her husband (not my bio-dad) knew about me but their kids did not. We left it with emails exchanged and possibly meeting later.

    Then, she sent me a letter…without a return address. She just didn’t want to tell her ‘kids’ about me. She was glad to meet me, but that was going to be it. Maybe an occasional email, but she couldn’t tell the kid about the one she gave away. So, I have sent 2 emails since then. The first was in about 2007, after the first year of my PhD. The second was bout 10 minutes ago.

    I like to say this mostly has no impact on me. But, (and Dawn will confirm this) I tend to write hugely long posts about this. So, maybe there is something there. I go weeks, months without thinking of her or my own adoptive status. My family is my family: I have great parents, g-parents (or, g-ma. Other 3 grandparents have passed). People don’t believe I am adopted.. “You look just like your Mom”. (Oh, you are Angie’s son. You look so much like her” hehe. Aunts, Uncles, 2 brothers. My adoption has never been a secret to any of them. I don’t feel that I have to ‘make up’ for anything lacking in my family life.

    That said, when I do think of her, there is a twinge of … something. Now I know she is out there, I know I have 2 other siblings. I know her name and where she is and what she does. However, she is not my Mom, to me. I love that she carried me. I love my family. I would like to know her and her family, to have a relationship. But, she chooses not to.

    I guess she gave me away 2X. Once under gentle pressure from her Mom (my interpretation of what Marie told me). But this second time, well, I understand residual fear and guilt… but it is 2005. To me, second time seems much more voluntary.

  11. Tony – Thank you for your comment and thank you to Dawn for sending you my way. Your comment has prompted a blog post. I may get to it in a day or two. I will note that I feel terribly sad for mothers like yours (Maire) that are trapped between a relationship with their child (you) and the facade they have lead (not being able to tell other kids). I cannot imagine the pain and conflict. I say that because I am the reverse and yet I struggle immensely. I am honest with my children, everyone knows, and yet my heart still aches. I cannot imagine how much it must ache if you are feeling the need to keep the existence of a child a secret. How she must long for you yet how terrified she must be of further judgement by her own children and others. I wish you both well.

    I find it somehow comforting that even with your wonderful adopted life you acknowledge a twinge of…something. I like to dream that my daughter feels the same.

    Do you have your own blog?

    • No blog of my own. I have considered it, but my writing time is mostly committed to my dissertation right now.
      I sent her an email today specifically after reading your blog. I am open to any communication she wants, but I don’t know how she feels. Maybe she wants to talk more and tell her kids, but could be wondering where my head is with it all. I mean, 1 letter, 1 short email in 4+ years. She could assume I am angry or indifferent or just don’t want to talk. So, I wanted her to know I am still open to more contact.

      Thanks Suz.

  12. Thanks Tony. Like, you, I keep the lines open. I havent heard from my daughter in two years but I still send her holiday notes, emails, birthday greetings, donate to charities in her name (she refuses gifts from me) and essentially let her know that if she ever decides she wants to know me, I welcome it. I do this with no expectation of a response or any sort of reciprocity. In many ways I do it more for me than for her. It is the person I am, the mother I am. and her accepting that or not does not change me. Her refushing my love does not cease it from being.

    Good on you for leaving the door open for your writing to her and being open. That could be key to her. She may have suffered judgemetn and ultimatums all her life. It may be new to her to have someone who doesnt want to demand anything from her.

    • Suz- I guess the key is don’t let her refusal be a fault in you. That is hers, for whatever her reasons are. I remember when people would ask me whether I wanted to find my ‘real Mom’. I would be angry sometimes and say that my real Mom is the woman who raised me. I didn’t want to hurt my Mom. I wondered how she felt; did she worry that one day I may decide she didn’t do enough and I was going to look for my birth Mom.
      Maybe your daughter is still getting through that stage. So, keep the lines open as long as you want and perhaps her heart will change. If not, know that isn’t on you.

  13. Just wanted to say hi and hope that you’re feeling better! Love the post, as always you write the truth and that helps the rest of us. God Bless! ((HUGS)) Summer

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