Today is a Good Day

Today should be a good day. I’ve got plenty of work to do, good work, no one will probably die, and my Love is coming to see me tonight. It’s sunny too, that means a lot.

There are lots of things I should be doing today, mowing the lawn, organizing my cabinets, getting rid of all the junky stuff around the house, but I’m not going to get to that, and that’s OK. I’ll get to it when I’m ready. One thing I’ve learned in the last year is things happen when they happen. If I can find a place where there is a sort of flow with any kind of ambition, I’m in good shape. You don’t have to do all the hard things at once.

As an adoptee there is always the feeling you need to fix everything, right now.  All be damned if the fixes come with problems of their own, just do it. It’s a dangerous and wounding way to go, but very hard to let go of.  Adoptees tend to miss their own experiences taking care of everybody else.

Today I’m going to go with my own experiences. I’m going to play with words, create something, and most importantly let myself really feel the love that is in my life. Letting myself go to that love has been difficult, it’s not really a trust issue, it’s a being overwhelmed by own feelings issue. The sheer depth of feelings that I have is frightening, I have to will myself to let go. But it’s good, even if I have to do it one day at a time.

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Still here, Still Adopted.

There is nothing like an adoptive family crisis to make you feel all the more adopted. My a-dad had a bit of a health scare recently. He was diagnosed with cancer, luckily, it looks like it’s treatable. This is good, really good, but waiting to hear that was an awful experience. It’s a feeling of just waiting to panic, or not.

We didn’t have to panic. Big sigh of relief there. But not panicking and getting my a-dad through cancer treatments is going to be challenging enough. Long time readers of this blog have got to know my a-dad a bit, so you can imagine the challenges ahead. For those who don’t know, let’s just say a-dad is very outspoken (that’s a nice way of saying he’s a bitchy old man).

Then there is the whole adoptee thing. My a-famiily once had a family dinner, complete with relatives from out of town, on my birthday, and “forgot” to invite me. But who is the first one they call when they need a ride to the hospital for surgery, or wreck their car, or can’t figure out the cell phone? You guessed it, the adoptee. I know they do it because they see me as being the one who can handle it (or possibly because I’m alone right now and might not have anything better to do. Ha.), but it’s still hard. Sometimes it feels like you get all the responsibility and none of the good stuff.

There is nothing to do but deal. And deal I will. I always do. Adoptees are like that.

It’s an Adoptee Thing

I haven’t been adopted much lately. I’m blowing off more Adoptee Rights Demonstration meetings than I attending, I haven’t blogged, honestly I haven’t given adoption much thought. It will always be there.

Adoption is always there, it runs like a current below everything thing else. Below the big losses that everyone experiences, below the day-to-day bullshit, even below the happy. Adoption is just there and I know it’s not going anywhere. I’ve dealt with it long enough I can ignore it, for a while.

There are, however, some things I cannot let go. I can’t sit back and see the work adoptees, and their supporters, have done collectively be co-opted, corrupted, or used to leverage an unrelated goal. So many have worked so hard, so tirelessly, so long, and that work is really beginning to pay off.

The right to identity is a civil right, an adoptee’s civil right. It really is all about us. Don’t forget it. Don’t make me get all adopted again.

I’m Not Strong

I’m not strong, I do probably look that way, but it’s an unintentional front. I am gutted, sad, screaming inside. I want my David back. I want to punch the fucking Universe in the face. I cannot fathom that my poor sweet husband had to go through that, he deserved better.

David wasn’t done. He still had so many things he wanted to do. I cry not just for the things we would do together, but the things he would achieve, the things he would make, the stuff he would make work. I cry for the beautiful days he won’t see and the good meals he won’t eat.

Losing him seems to be much too much about me and not nearly enough about him sometimes.

Make no mistake this is about David.

My sweet, smart, curious, and ambitious David.

Fovorite Blog Post for Grown In My Heart

This time on the GIMH carnival we are sharing some of out favorite blog posts.

OK, this might seem a bit odd, but I really like this post.  It is so funny, a bit scary, and real.  That’s why I like the great lady that writes this blog so much.  She has a way of making you feel like she has just called you up to let you know what’s going on,even if it’s a bit disturbing, or not at all.  It doesn’t matter.  She shares, and does it honestly.

Tongginator Stalker

First read this, then hook up at the carnival here.

I’m Back and In Trouble Already

I’m Seeing Double and have been sent to the principal’s office over at Grown In My Heart….

Seeing Double at Grown In My Heart.

Other than that, I’m adjusting.

I’m a freshman at a small mid-western university.  I always thought these things were made up, until it happened to me……

Actually I have managed to get myself enrolled in school.  We’ll see how that goes.  More later.

Ward Of The State (Slight Return)

Due to my recent employment situation, I am again dependent on the state.

It’s triggering.

As an adult adoptee most of my contact with the state has been adversarial.  I want my original birth certificate and they refuse to give it to me.  This because they think of me as a child that cannot understand my position.

The fact is, I understand my position very well.  Obtaining my OBC will not change a thing about who I am or what has happened to me, but it will make me feel like an adult.  It’s simple, but they won’t help me.  I’m  supposed to be fine with all that.

The state does  feel that I might need some help with my joblessness.  It’s been explained to me that losing a job can be very traumatic.

I get that.

The state has told me that’s it’s unfair and I shouldn’t be able to understand my situation.

I think I have a pretty good grasp on the situation, actually.

They tell me that I may feel like my identity has been taken away.

Um no.  I know what that feels like and this isn’t it.

They say this could be the most significant transition in my life.

Trust me, it’s so not.

They want me to know if I start to feel out of control or that I fear I might hurt myself, counseling is available.

Oh where have you been all of my life?

They even offered to set up a “rap session” for us to dicuss what we are going through.

No, in the name of all things holy, no.

I’m not trying to minimize  job loss here, it is hard, but it’s not like the end of my world.

Honestly I’m offended that they take unemployment so much more seriously than adoption.  I lost a job here, not my biological roots, not my name, not my identity.  I’m supposed to be just fine with being adopted and not require any kind of assistance dealing with it, but lose my job, and it’s time for intensive intervention.

What the hell ever.