02
Digging For The Truth
There are things renting space in my head lately that have caused me to withdrawal even more than usual. Feelings of resentment, fear, and indifference have been camping out. The time isn’t the most convenient but it is what it is. I don’t relish in these thoughts, rather just try and rationalize them. The problem is every time I try and sort out whats going on, I end right back where I started. Resentful & lacking trust, which leads to fearing the unknown and how stable or unstable it could become. Consistency is a big thing for me. I need to know that a person is somewhat balanced and not going to be irrational from one day to the next. If I don’t know this, or sense otherwise, I don’t necessarily shut them out, but it becomes a challenge for me to continue to involve myself. When I was growing up, and into my twenties there was so much that could falter from one second to the next, and I learned to deal with it, but never in healthy ways. I hated myself and I always thought it was my fault that things just couldn’t stay nice and balanced the way I wanted them to be. This lead to punishing myself in numerous ways. Awful things I would call myself inside my head, or intentionally bruising myself because I thought I deserved it, and as I got older it lead to cutting. This behavior started when I was around 7 or 8 and it didn’t take a break until both my parents passed away. I think in a way, since I was adopted, I felt responsible for their happiness, and when it wasn’t there, or they were mad at me, which was more often then not, it became a huge weight on my shoulders and I felt like a failure at “my job”.
When they died it was saddening, in fact I think I’m still trying to deal with it. On the other end of the spectrum though, I felt “free” in a sense. What was done was done, and there was no going back, no more blame, hatred, hurt feelings to contend with…it was too late, and didn’t matter anymore…they were gone. So in a way this helped me..it was the end of an era.
Until recently when I’ve realized I am by far, free from my past. One of the luxuries of being adopted and getting back in touch with your birth parents is having a whole other division of life to contend with. All over again. One more time I will witness the unraveling, the sickness…and the eventual death. Combined with this there is the truth that no matter how much I try and convince myself, this set of parents…my first, will never be what it could have been had I been raised by them. The bond just isn’t there for me, at least not yet. So it makes it hard to want to deal with whats inevitable. Maybe it’s that I feel I don’t owe them anything, at least not in the way I did my adoptive parents. I’m not implying that I’m right in feeling this way, just that I feel this way and its part of what goes on in my head sometimes.
I need to grow up in some ways and realize that this is how life is, full of challenges and obstacles and that the answer is not to hide myself away from them and pretend they aren’t there. It’s the easy way out, and that’s usually not how I take on things. In other areas of my life, a good challenge makes me thrive and step up to my true potential. This challenge is personal though and it digs. So fucking deep…that if I’m not careful, I fear I’ll bury myself once again.
Hmmm. I’m not sure where to go from there today. I woke up with my extra hour and this is what I did with it. The words poured out with little effort, like it was planned…but it was very spur of the moment. Like finding a book and seeing it was full of connect-the-dot pages, and going with the flow.
Anyway. I need coffee. Have a great Sunday everyone.
