Thinking about "her"

I haven't thought much about my birth mother until today. I wondered what it must have been like for her to give birth and have to give a child away. I've had three children and could never imagine doing so. I'd like to think she loved me enough to do it.

Then I wondered if I was the product of a young love. My thoughts turned more negative and hoped I wasn't  here because she was a drunk or drug user or, worse..a product of rape. That thought bothered me..a lot. And my little fantasies of being the child of two young lovers quickly vanished and I immediatly felt depressed again.

That's one reason I'm afraid to try to search. My exhusband was adopted and he found his birth mother. It wasn't pretty. She was a severe alcoholic who had all of her 4 children taken from her by the state. His own drinking went from bad to worse after finding out. He always knew he was adopted. He was 3 when his parents took him home.

I felt horrible today. Like completely depressed. I could barely move. I was exhausted and very emotional. Of course, I assumed it was everything going which includes a whole lot of drama that isn't about my adoption so there's a lot on my mind.

Later in the day I managed to get going and took my granddaughters out for a bit. I was dizzy and it dawned on me I hadn't taken my Metformin in a day..maybe two. I'm Type 2 diabetic.
Sure enough, I tested and my sugar was 464. Well no crap I felt like ass all day. Took my meds and after some sweating, felt much better and last checked, my sugar was 140.

I need to try to not let all of this get me down to where I forget to take care of myself. I just brushed off my feeling of blues today to my situation. Sometimes, we expect to feel something more than we actually are feeling it, if that makes any sense. I've told my children that if I act like that again to gently ask if I've tested my sugar and not just assume I'm sad. I may be. But I may be so self absorbed in my thoughts about this adoption and my other strives in life that I had forgotten to take care of me and take my meds.

It's 1 a.m. and work comes soon. I dread it. I dread everything. But I push forward and do what needs to be done.

A good expression of how I feel.

A rose

Since finding out, I had posted about it on FB and told friends and family members who didn't know. All offered words of encouragement that I greatly appreciate and love them for.

But like most things, until you live it you don't really understand it. I'm not "boo hoo-ing" about being adopted. I know my birth mother could have ended my life. Or chosen to keep me in conditions that weren't great. I know she did it out of love. I've carried three babies and could never image how hard it is to do something like that. I'm not mad at my parents, although some anger about never being told sneaks in. But I get why they did it. I totally see my mom never wanting to me find out because she didn't like to discuss unpleasant things. I know they loved me. They never, ever treated me differently. If anything, my siblings will tell you I was a bit spoiled.

So what's so hard? What has me in a depressed state eating clonapins daily?

It's not knowing who I am. Meaning, where do I come from? My whole life I thought I was Jewish, Russian decscent. I thought I had my father's temper. I thought I got my handwriting from my mother. I bite my fingers like my father. I thought my metabolism was my mother's fault. It goes on and on. Now, I don't know where I got anything. Who gave me this crazy mess of blonde hair or huge hips that have passed down to my children? Was someone a writer? Did someone give me my love of acting (that I never have time to do). Am I german? Maybe polish?

I'm a lovely rose in a vase. I had been nurtured and loved and cultivated to be the person I am today by my parents. But I have no roots. Without roots, I'm stuck in vase and feel like I'm wilting. A bit dramatic but best way to describe it at 3:30 a.m.

I miss my parents so much. I wish my father could tell me about my adoption because he had such a flair for stories he would have made it sound amazing.

Some of the comments I've received almost make me feel like I should just smile and be glad I was choosen! How easy that would be to do and how I wish I could only focus on that and move on. And I will, in time. But for now, it's not something one learns in the middle of their lives and can just push aside as a "blessing."

Discovery

I am 46 years old about to be 47. My whole life I always felt different than my family. I didn't really look like them. Or act like them more or less. I did grow up with some of my father's mannerisms. Or so I thought.

My father died in 2001 and my mother in Oct. 2012. I'm still grieving her loss daily.

I got an email from an old family friend who said he was mailing me a long letter and that it was very important. I told my brother about it and wondered what it could be. My brother knew, of course, but didn't let on. Until about an hour later when he and my sister called me at work and said they had to talk to me right now before I got the letter.

That's how I found out I was adopted. My brother, 11 years older than me, my sister is 7 years older. They always knew. And it amazes me through all our sibling fights no one spilled the beans.

It's been a few days now and I'm not really sure if I've processed it well, or at all. So many things going through my mind. Saddness, a little anger although I'm pretty sure more of that will come. I've lost all interest in anything. I don't want to work. I don't want to clean. I don't even care about showering. I'm sure it's depression but I'm not going to take medications. This isn't a chemical imbalance. This is my life being unbalanced and unknown. So many lies.

So I decided to use this blog for a diary of sorts. I doubt anyone will read it so I'm not worrying about typos or grammar. Should someone like myself find this, and wants to contribute and share, I don't think they'll care about that either.

I've been feeling ill ever since. I push through the day, doing what I'm suppose to, barely. Nothing has changed day to day. I'm still needed..by everyone it seems some days. They don't know or understand what's going inside. I'm lost.

It's all so surreal and I find myself having to use terms like "adoptive parents." It's like another person doing it.

So this blog will be a bunch of rambling as I try to sort through this journey and learn who I am and learn to accept this blow.