After the Grief Comes Healing – Part One

I saw a lot of professionals since I was 10 years old. When I say ‘professional’, I mean social workers, psychologists, counselors and psychiatrists. If I had to guesstimate how many I saw between age 10 and 27, I’d pick around the number 15. I think that qualifies as A LOT.

I started with a nun when I was in elementary school. I’m unsure if she was also a social worker, but she went by the name ‘Sister’, followed by her name. And, I ended with Shirley who was basically the best thing since sliced bread.

In between the nun and Shirley, I met some decent professionals, but most were short-term. I didn’t stay in one place for long, simply because I was ‘difficult’, or at least the professionals told me I was difficult. Too much work. I was ‘resistant’ and ‘no progress’ was being made. They transferred me to another professional when they were fed up, or wrote an evaluation on me (suggesting numerous diagnosis) and handed me to someone else. I went through some real loser professionals. I realized that there are very few professionals that have the experience and knack for developing relationships with clients.

There was one that I found incredibly interesting and very interested (in me). I can’t remember his name, but he was Russian and I called him the Russian Dr. Phil. He was a very tall man and was built like a football player. He got excited easily and his accent was thick. He was convinced if I followed his six week plan, I’d be cured. Because he was a psychologist on my university campus, he would be waiting outside of my classes if I had skipped an appointment. He’d be on the lookout for me. It made me laugh. He shared with me the most interesting stories…and I just found him fascinating. He was a lot of fun, too (and actually gave me some great food for thought). We ended after a couple of months because he was moving out of town.

The last – Shirley – will always be my last. Yes, that’s correct. I will never go back to therapy. (Ok…so, never say never…but let me just say never today.)

I disliked Shirley the day I met her and pretty much walked out of her office when she told me she hadn’t even read my file before I saw her (I had been transferred to her from another therapist). I took it as laziness and believed she was another crappy therapist…but what I didn’t realize…was that she didn’t read it…because she wanted my permission to read it. Now, she legally and by all rights HAD permission to read it…since it was transferred to her and I was okay with the transfer. But, she took it as an opportunity to show me that she wanted to earn my trust and wanted to give me control of the situation and what I wanted to share with her and what I really wanted out of the relationship.

Shirley was a serious trouper. I admittedly made it very difficult for her to get anything out of me and because I had such trust issues, I tested her to the max. She really hung in there, like no one else ever had. And, she cared in a way that no one else ever had. My happiness, health and well-being was at the forefront for her. She was invested in me…in my life…in my future. She continually stood there and held space…even when I walked away. Shirley was willing to do whatever it took (and it took a lot) to get me better.

She walked by my side through terribly dark times. And, once I made the choice to start some healing…she was right there to walk back to the bright side, with me. I’m grateful beyond words. To her and for her. And today, she’s still by my side (although I haven’t talked to her in a few months, but I know she’s there) and has been very present and supportive in my suicide prevention work that I do. She’s one of my loudest cheerleaders.

One of the common threads – I’ve come to just realize in the past few weeks – of my difficulty with most professionals, is that the adoption issue never carried much weight for these people. To them, I was adopted…but what were the other issues I had been dealing with. I was adopted, but had a good family. I was adopted, but was generally healthy. I was adopted…and was smart, intelligent and outgoing. I was adopted…so what?!

Yes. SO WHAT.

What 95% of the ‘professionals’ missed…was that my adoption was my very core issue…and all of my other problems and behaviors were just a symptom of the pain and grief that I was handed the day I was born. Not one of these professionals could fathom that my adoption could, and would, cause my life to become a huge train-wreck.

None understood the grief…and therefore, couldn’t work on the very core issue (which I only recently realized WAS/IS my core issue) and subsequently, couldn’t bring about any healing.

…to be continued…

This Mom...

This has been a difficult week. I’ve felt really unsettled, out of sorts, sad, happy, confused, hurt, and various other feelings. It’s probably the big move and the anniversary to when I first met my birthmother in 1996. Yet, I’ve had this anchor to counter every negative thought in my head and heart this week. My Sally.

My relationship with Sally still amazes me and is proof that God is very much alive in my world. She was truly a gift sent back to me last April - after meeting her when I was 10 years old, for less than an hour – when she sat down at my table at a conference. I still shake my head.

Our relationship has been a complete (and unexpected!!!) blessing. I have trusted her completely since the moment we re-met, which is unheard of for me! It just felt so secure. The foundation of my relationship with Sally is so concrete, dependable and based on the truth.

Which is not necessarily what I grew up with.

I mean, seriously, if you’re involved in adoption…as an adoptee, birthparent or adoptive family…the truth is not usually always present. There are so many lies involved in the circumstances surrounding my placement and adoption. There still are.

And, because of her experience with adoption (over 19 years!) as a professional, it adds this awesome dimension to our conversations we share. I don’t have to explain to her…why my birthday is difficult for me. I don’t have to explain to her how my heart hurts that my birthmother told me she wants nothing to do with me. I don’t have to explain my sometimes odd behavior, that relates to my experience as an adoptee, because she GETS it.

Sally so gently and lovingly pushes me…encourages me…loves me…supports me…cheers me on…teaches me…shares with me…laughs with me and on a rare occasion, kicks my butt. I cherish what we share. I cherish her…as a woman and everything she is about and the story WE now share.

Mostly, I cherish her as the ‘mother’ she IS to me. I’m grateful that when I slipped and called her ‘Mom’, the first time…she didn’t correct me and let me continue to call her that. I’m grateful that when my heart hurts…she so willingly will take my hand and just be with me. I’m grateful that she replies to all of my emails (which can sometimes be quite lengthy and all over the place), answers all of my calls and always makes time for me.

It makes me teary…to have Sal in my life. And to know that He placed her there, is an answered prayer…beyond what I thought I would ever deserve or receive. He truly must love me.

I know that she is not technically (or literally!) my mother, by any means…natural or adoptive. But she DOES ‘mother’. She does fill that hole that adoption has left, in my heart. She pours into that hole this amazing mixture of love, compassion, wisdom, faith and healing. The hole is so deep, wide and painful…yet on every occasion we spend time together, I leave with one more drop of healing in the wound. I truly believe that God placed her back on my path because it was/is time to begin the healing.

I doubt the hole will ever be completely filled. In fact, I don’t know that I want it to be. This hole has made me who I am. It is part of me…part of my life, for which – although sad and devastating at times – I am thankful for.

For now, I’ll let the healing continue and be grateful for this Mom I am now blessed with.

I'm under construction!

Victoria made me do it!!!

I decided I needed a change, seeing as I physically moved to a new home, I thought my blog needed a new look, too. It'll take a few days to settle in on a new format/style...so it'll be changing over the next little bit. I kinda want a more classy/clean look.

We'll see what happens!

Random Business

I am going to tackle a few different issues in this blog entry. I will number the issues to keep it less complicated.

1. Keep Your Word! I think it’s general good courtesy and shows character when you follow through on your word and match your actions to what you speak. Although this can be applied to generally everyone in this world…I’ve been more focused on this lately because of my buddy, Tor and her circumstances right now with her birthmother. You can see Tor’s blog by clicking on the link ‘Living the Dash’ on the right side of this page…just scroll down a bit.

I remember that when I was in relationship with my birthfamily, it was very important to me that they followed their words by actions that matched. If they said they would call on Sunday…they better call on Sunday (unless something major happened, which I would understand). But, this rarely ever happened. And, honestly, it cause a lot of upset, panic and fear for me.

I don’t believe I was demanding of attention from my bmother, bfather and brelatives. I do believe that I needed reassurance that they wouldn’t ‘leave’ or go MIA and I’d never see them again. I think that some adoptees have unique issues and fears that literally stem from one of the hugest events of their lives…when they were just (often) days old, they’re separated from the only person they knew. The person they connected with for nine months and then boom…they’re handed off to strangers…who unknowingly, would become their parents and family. This experience of separation…is just as real, traumatic and felt on the adoptees part as it is on the birthmother.

Go figure that my birthmother WOULD actually leave me again. She certainly didn’t…and hasn’t…followed through on her word, ever. In fact, none of my birthfamily has in any regard. Which, in turn, I believe has made me really sensitive to the fact that anyone I love…could just up and leave me without explanation. I struggle with that. I’m better at dealing with it now, however, it’s still an issue for me.

So, my message (in the above ramble!) is…keep your word! And if you can’t keep your word, then admit that!

2. My friend, A. I replied to her email and said that I would be willing to sit down and have a conversation, if there was a mutual intention to have an open, honest, respectful and life-giving talk and to move forward in our relationship. I have not heard back…which, in all honesty, guessed would happen.

However, last night as I was moving some little things to my condo and unpacking a bit and cleaning and fixing stuff in preparation for the big move on Saturday, tears came. I have a lot on my plate. My mother and I have been having some disagreements with the move, I recently lost my friend, Debi…my Grammie is gone…not to mention the adoption stuff with my bmom and that the move is a huge thing for me (I’ve never lived on my own yet!). And I was so ticked off that again…when I could have used the comfort and support, A – yet again – takes herself out of my life when I would love to have her around the most. It seems to me that this happens around the time when I’m having major changes in my life.

I was ticked that I couldn’t pick up the phone and call her…and cry…and talk…and be supported and heard…and most of all…just loved.

I do have support and love and awesome friends that are supporting me and helping me with the move. I’m so very grateful. But, it feels like something is missing…because A has always been a pretty big part of my life for the last almost 13 years.

I always thought, y’know, when I moved…that A would be there. Helping me unpack, hanging out…just being involved.

But, she isn’t.

3. My cat. I took him to my condo on Monday night so that he could sniff around and get a feeling for the place. He was great on the way down, until we got into the condo. Then he started to cry.

He lurked around with his belly close to the floor, ready to pounce at anything that was hiding around the corner. He explored…and often ran back to me to cry and look for reassurance. My boy relaxed a bit after an hour or so…when I had to go and open the door for my father (no phone hook up ‘til Saturday, so I couldn’t buzz him in). When I went to go and locked the door…my poor boy was crying for me.

If I haven’t stated already…my kitty was terribly abused and was set on fire (had to have his tail amputated) and looked like a general mess when I first adopted him. He’s incredibly needy, personable, funny, clingy and is in love with basically everyone that crosses his path. I knew he was mine the moment we met…and he adopted me, too. He follows me everywhere.

4. Cornpop. Have I written lately about how much I love my best bud, CP? I do love her. And, really, I’m unsure that I’d have my sanity without her. Not to mention, I can normally talk her into various adventures that I want to do. CP is a great accomplice! She also deserves an award for putting up with me.

5. Sally, BT & Ange. Of course, I heart my Sal. She’s been so amazing and is always my biggest cheerleader. We went for dinner last week and just ate and talked…and talked…and talked. I can’t put into words how wonderful this woman is…and how much my life has changed since she walked back into it last April. I thank God for placing her on my path, again.

BT is an amazing man that I met through my Sal. He is undoubtedly one of the most inspirational people I have ever crossed paths with. He has an incredible faith in God and has been so very supportive of me and generally gives me loads of advice…even when I don’t ask for it. I must blog about him in the future…and share his story. He’s a testimony to God and His power to change lives. He is also helping me move!

My Ange…is incredibly special to me. We met through suicide prevention stuff in 2006 (I think?) and our relationship has grown so much since then. She began as a colleague of sorts…and it turned to friendship…and I’m blessed. I trust her, I know I can count on her and she has a wicked compassionate spirit.

6. This blog entry is long enough now.

Love it!

I love my new digs! (And, I’m not even moved in yet.)

I spent eight hours on Saturday cleaning it (with family) and man, it NEEDED cleaning! The man who owns it (and had been living there, but is moving into a different unit) had been very tidy and clean…but did not do any deep cleaning, which became apparent after the kitchen took four hours (FOUR HOURS!) to clean. The kitchen looks like a brand new one!

So, basically, the entire apartment is now clean…from ceiling to windows to base-board to floor! It’s spotless and smells wonderful!

I moved in some small boxes and little things, but the big move will happen on the weekend…and then probably my bed stuff the following weekend. Or, I could take my Sally up on an offer to use her truck on Sunday and move my bed and everything else that is left then…and then I could stay there that night. However, I have NOTHING packed, yet.

I made a trip to Walmart yesterday to get bathroom stuff…which was fun. And I got some normal household stuff like dish-soap, garbage buckets, hand-soap…etc. Tonight I’ll be lining the cupboards. They’re clean, but have some scratches, so I’m going to cover them with liner.

I’m taking one of my boys with me tonight (my kitty!), so he can sniff around the place…and check it all out. He doesn’t much enjoy change, so it’ll be interesting. I’ll try to take some pics and post ‘em soon.

I’m excited! I love having my own place, already!