Skip to main content

Posts

Disassociated

"Dissociative amnesia

Cause: A way to cope with trauma.

Treatment: Psychotherapy (e.g. talk therapy) counseling or psychosocial therapy which involves talking about your disorder and related issues with a mental health provider. Psychotherapy often involves hypnosis (help you remember and work through the trauma); creative art therapy (using creative process to help a person who cannot express his or her thoughts); cognitive therapy (talk therapy to identify unhealthy and negative beliefs/behaviors); and medications (antidepressants, anti-anxiety medications or tranquilizers). These medications help control the mental health symptoms associated with the disorders, but there are no medications that specifically treat dissociative disorders.[6] However, the medication Pentothal can sometimes help to restore the memories.[5] The length of an event of dissociative amnesia may be a few minutes or several years. If an episode is associated with a traumatic event, the amnesia may clear up…
Recent posts

Family Traditions

This is the first year of holidays after I ran into the brick wall of adoption reality. And today I want to talk about family traditions.

The very idea of this post fill me with misery and makes my eyes sting and my throat close up.

When you have to text your bio brother, asking what your real family does for the holidays, because you've been completely cut off from your adopters, then you'll understand where I'm sitting this morning.

It was a cracker barrel commercial, of all things. "Family Traditions, because I'm your mom" hand Xmas ornament to cutey baby daughter "and traditions are my job."

Then I realize, that since my adoptress died, none of the "family traditions" I've been trying to instill in my children mean anything. They are activities savored buy a family that had no affiliation with these children. No one in my adoptive family has even seen any of my children in person. So WHY in the name of all that is stupid am I teaching …

Julie Gray, Buried Alive

If you were adopted at birth, you may have only known yourself for a few days before it happened to you. But rest assured you knew.

I was eight months old. I knew who I was when they started trying to bury me. I screamed and threw off the dirt. "Julie's not dead. I'm Julie!" But my "mother" was determined, older, stronger. She could shovel on more that I could throw off. I was slowly buried under the daughter she named.

She shoveled the identity over me with her violence and her cloying, syrupy, overprotective "love". She subverted my real self, dictated that I was "theirs" and therefore should be "like them". I fought her until I was four... It's the only explanation I have for the violence escalating so far against such a young person. I must have resisted and rejected her efforts to pretend to be my mom. Why else would you knock a two year old unconscious?

By the time I was four, I was pretty well subverted. Compliant. Mise…

An Adoptee's Sacrifice

Sacrifice. It's such an abstract concept. It's basically and frequently defined as: giving up something for the sake of something else. (Or killing livestock and children in the name of a diety. Since I refuse to allow adoption to be referred to as a diety, I'll be sticking to the former.) But what does that really mean?

For adoptees, it means everything. Because that's what we give up for the sake of something else. 

I gave up my family. I gave up my name. (I was eight months old when they "got me", I knew my bloody name.) I gave up my original unfalsified documents and my access to them. I gave up knowing where I came from. I gave up lifelong relationships with siblings and the connection they  afforded. I gave up my concrete identity and sense of self. I gave up my ability to ever fully trust anyone to stand beside me. I gave up my ability to believe in anyone's "best intentions" or "love". I gave up a life. for the sake of something …

You Can't Help.

I wrote a blog not too long ago about ways adopters can "help" their adoptees cope with being adopted. Let's face it, it was a list of a couple of do's, and mostly don'ts. Problem. I've since come to a realization, with the help of adopter apologist Nancy Verrier, Adoptive Families Magazine, Adoptions with Love, Brave love, and Gladney adoptions (not to mention multiple mixed groups of adopters and adoptees on Facebook)...

There's nothing you can do to make it better. If you're the kind of person who thinks it's ok to adopt, you're NOT the kind of person who can help an adoptee cope with abandonment and relinquishment. 

Even Nancy Verrier, author of the primal wound and supposed "adoptee advocate", was not the kind of woman who could do any good for an adoptee. Yes, her points about developmental trauma and the severing of the maternal/infant bond are spot on. But not even she can own her adopter shit. For instance: "...although s…

Never Mind My "Bad Experience"

Seven months ago, March of this year, what were you doing? I was trying to cope with the fact that suddenly BOTH of my mothers are dead.

Seven months ago, March of this year, what were you doing? I was coming out of an all consuming blinding fog of denial.

I don't claim to have been fogged like the "I'm so happy, life is so perfect" adoptees are, but I had my own special version. I actively ignored it. Any reference to adoption was refused admittance. It bounced off. The fact that Dexter was a foster child; on Friends, Monica and Chandler's gleeful hunt for a newborn or Phoebe's surrogacy, Sons Of Anarchy and their baby farms, the Blacklist, This Is Us, etcetera. The endless stream of baby-collecting celebrities... I literally didn't allow it to connect. The cord was too short and the plug wouldn't reach the wall. Even when asked about it, I would proclaim it didn't bother me and didn't matter, all the while loudly humming the theme to "I D…

I'm Not Angry, I'm Just Honest

The truth is a harsh mistress who spares no one the wrath of her convictions. She minces no words and allows no subterfuge. She doesn't care about your feelings or what you think of her. She holds everyone to the same exacting standards. Only standing with her are we all equal. And the only people who take an issue with that are those who fall short of those standards. Those who choose to live lies.

I live in the truth. It is not pretty, soft, or comfortable. It's hard, cold, and unforgiving. I am constantly assaulted by facts I'd rather not see. Emotions I'd rather not feel. Truths that are so invariably ugly that some days I wish I could be blind again.I wish for the comfortable, woolly brainwash that goes along with "adoption is a beautiful thing". 

Really, do you think I ENJOY knowing what I know? Do you think I like having to defend myself against the irate attacks and verbal abuse I get daily? From FELLOW ADOPTEES WHO FEEL THE WAY I FELT ONLY SIX MONTHS A…