The Trouble With Christmas

Published December 8, 2016 by maryleesdream

sad-dog-in-christmas-hat-dp

It’s almost here, again.  Christmas.  The most dreaded time of the year.

Another year of nothing from my natural family.  Another year of dealing with Ramona.  I shouldn’t complain.  I’ve been told by many people that my mother is the one who raised me.  I wonder why I just can’t go along with the script and believe it.

I can’t stand Ramona.  I never could.  The worst part is, she lives with me, and I don’t know how to get away.

Some background:  My adoptive father died in 1990. I am an only adopted child. Ramona was much too sickly to ever adopt again.   Ramona owned an apartment, and lived alone.  She never drove a car and was dependent on A dad for all her transportation.  In 1997, I gave birth to my 4th child.  My dear husband did not have a high paying job, and we were struggling.  Our house was in desperate need of repairs, the taxes were overdue, you get the picture.

Ramona sold her place and moved in with us.  I was reluctant, but my husband said, “keep your eye on the prize”.  I wanted my children to grow up in a nice house, so I gave in.  Ramona invested the money in the house, and we added an apartment for her,  more bedrooms and a bigger kitchen.  The house is great.

Cut to 20 years later.  My kids are grown, but three of them still live at home.  Ramona is still here.  In fact she’s hovering over me right now.  I took the day off from work, and promised to take her to the store, so she’s checking to see what time I’m going.  Once she starts a conversation, it’s very hard to stop her.  She asks question after question, until you want to tear your hair out.

She is 87 now, and in good health.  I wish for her death everyday.  My heart sinks when I hear the noises she makes when she gets up in the morning, because I know she lived through the night.  Once she did not answers her phone, and I hoped for the worst, but she was alive.  I feel like a monster.

She drives my daughters and husband crazy too.  This morning I had to lead her out of the kitchen where my 29 year old daughter was making herself breakfast before heading out for the day.  She just hovered, asking question after question, about Christmas gifts for her sister.  I felt bad for DD, so I stepped in and took Ramona out.

Giving Christmas gifts is very important to Ramona.  It’s one of the ways she earns her place.  She pays rent, and buys some groceries also.  We could live without her rent, but I can’t kick her out.  She has no place else to go.  We could sell the house, and move, but it would be expensive to find a place big enough for me and my family.  If my girls ever move out, I would love to get a smaller place with just me and my husband.  I wish Ramona would die already!

I left home at 19, because I could not stand Ramona, but I ended up back with her.  Between this,  my natural mother’s death, and my father’s family shunning me, my heart is in tatters.

I  shouldn’t complain……

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Birthday #54

Published November 13, 2016 by maryleesdream

Today is my birthday.

It’s difficult, to be adopted, on your birthday.

I lost my only home today.  When I was born, my parents had big plans.  The plans included giving me away, ASAP.  They were in a hot rush.  They did not want me to be too old to adopt.  They wanted me to go to a good home..

free-to-good-home

I’m not sure if I was free.  My adoptive mother says I was, the agency says they never give newborns away for free.  I’d love to see some sort of receipt.  My adoptive home was poor.  They did not have money lying around to buy babies.  Who knows what’s true.

Maybe I was some kind of charity case.  I’m not sure why.  I was a healthy white female.  Maybe they knew Mom was really black.  Maybe they knew I had a birth defect.  Anyway, I went to a poor home.

So, my birthday again.  My mother’s gone, my father and his family have shunned me.

I can’t wait for this day to be over.  I’m painting my kitchen.

Trying to Understand

Published October 15, 2016 by maryleesdream

family-blessing

 

 

Ever since I found my family, I’ve been trying to get back into the family.

 

I have failed.  I’m not actively trying right now, but I think about it everyday.  I try and figure out how to do it.  How to make their minds and hearts open, and allow me inside.

It has happened with a few kinsmen.  Three have welcomed me with open arms, flaws and all.  They understand the pain and anger, sympathize and know they are not responsible for causing or fixing  it. They know it’s part of me, and are willing to take me on anyway.  It’s a wonderful blessing.

I don’t use blessing in the religious sense, as I do not believe in a god who rules the world.  A blessing, a mitzvah, a good thing in the universe.

 

They are on my mothers side, only.  The wild side. My fathers family says Mom’s family was terrible.  Things too horrible to even talk about. It’s all true.

 

But somehow, my good, good father, from his good, good family managed to get together with this bad, bad family, and create me.

 

I think if I could only get them to understand, that I’m just normal, not a sick person who is out to get them.  But the more you try, the more like a sick psycho you appear, so its better to back off.

They say that I show, by my actions, that I don’t want to be part of the family.  I guess I do, but it’s really a defense mechanism.  I want to be loved so bad, but I have to seem cold and hard, so they can’t see how their rejection hurts.  It comes off looking cold.

My family actually had some sort of sit down, or at least phone chain or something, where they all decided to cut all contact with me.  This is my father’s family, the good guys.  Pillars of the community, grand marshals in the town parade, all around good, nay, great citizans.  This is what they have decided is best, for dealing with me.  Best for them, mostly.  Best for me, definitely not.

I send baby gifts to my cousins, when they have children.  I want them to know that babies are wonderful things, and to think about me, and love me despite what happened to me.  But I never know if the gifts are received, and they probably think I’m crazy for sending them.

Imagine being shunned by your kin! And for what?

If there’s anyone out there who reads this, what do you think I should do?  I love sending baby gifts.  I’m so happy to know who my family is, even from afar.  I can’t forget about them and go on with my life.  I do go on with  my life, all the time.  How does one not? I get up everyday, just like everyone else.  I have a job, and live in a big house with 5 other people.  I cook dinner and pay the bills and run a busy house,and work full time.  I do a decent job at both.  I’ve seen a few therapists, but they haven’t been able to help me.  I think it’s because there is nothing wrong with me, I just feel a certain way about things, and that’s it.  There is no evidence of mental illness.

Should I  just disappear, completely and leave these good people in peace, or continue to send gifts, and leave flowers on my grandparents graves from time to time, to let them know I’m still out here, trying to connect?

I think I know the answer, disappear.  Stop beating a dead horse.  They will never, ever accept you, no matter who you are.  They cannot admit that they may have been wrong.  It’s against family law.  I am outside of family law.  It does not matter how I feel about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Thing About Blogs

Published September 14, 2016 by maryleesdream

 

BLOG on speech bubble price labels

 

Well, I made a big boo boo.  I showed my blog to a bio family member.  It did not go well.  All they saw was anger and hatred, on my part.  Nothing at all of the pain that I’ve gone through.  They told me, repeatedly that I was harboring hatred, and that I hated my entire bio family.  I do not.  I don’t even know my entire bio family! ( that’s a joke)  I do know that they haven’t lived up to my expectations, but then again, I haven’t lived up to theirs either.

ISA, Infant Stranger Adoption changes everything about a family.  It removes a child, like surgery, and the wound that removal causes heals.  Scar tissue forms.  Life goes on.  When that person finds their family, no one knows what to do. There is fear, a lot of fear, on both sides.  Here are my mother, father, brothers sisters, aunts Uncles and cousins. but they are all strangers.  And I’m a stranger to them.

I wanted them to treat me as if I had been kidnapped, and finally found alive.  I wanted them to fuss over me, show me off, invite me over.

But, with ISA, there is also shame.  A kidnap is not voluntary, ISA is.  My parents made a decision to give me to strangers.  It was not random.  I was not taken.  There is guilt involved.

When I blog, there is usually a reason, a trigger.  I don’t do it that often.  The trigger is usually negative, something that made me feel hurt, and I use my blog as a way to get over it, to get it out of my system.  So, most of my blog posts are angry, or hurt, or mostly both.

That does not mean that I am angry all the time.  I’m just not.  I actually have a real life, full of good things.  I guess if you read my blog, that may not show.  My blog was written over years, but reading it all at once may be overwhelming, especially to someone who has lived a happy life.

Letting my family read it was a very bad idea.  They think I’m bad enough already.

 

 

 

What Have I Done Now

Published September 11, 2016 by maryleesdream

shunned

 

I think I blew it again

I tried to reach a bio cousin.  I let her read my blog, hoping that she would understand me, and see that I was hurt by our family, but instead she told me I harbored scary hate and anger.

So that did not go well.

She said that the family decided that no one should contact me, ever again, because I’ve been mean.  I guess I have been.

I don’t know what to do now, or how to fix it.  I guess I can’t.  I found them 6 years ago, and it was never good.  I said things, they said things.  They told each other things, and decided to shun me.

I tried.  Maybe once you’re given up, you can never go back.

I just wish it didn’t hurt so much