exposing the dark side of adoption
Register Log in

Primal Beings: Rage and Detachment

public

I have two types of friends:  one type thinks and re-thinks everything to death; the other type lives life without doing much heavy thinking because feelings guide their actions.

I'm stuck in the middle, over-thinking my feelings, afraid to do any living that brings me personal happiness.  I have been trained to accept crap as a life-long condition, and as long as I detach from the pain, I'm ok.

This detachment of mine seems to be rage-related, and I finally see how neglecting my own personal needs feeds into this. What amuses me is how far this pattern goes back, and how such internal rage can be caused.  How do I not see how my first mother's choice to relinquish me so I can be adopted has created the root to my own miserable-being?

 If I allow myself to think back to the days of me laying in a diaper at the orphanage, not sure if my basic-needs were going to be consistently cared about or tended.... back when a simple change in condition, like a feeling of soft dryness or a warm feeding had to follow someone's schedule that did not at all reflect my screaming needs.  I see very clearly how I have been rendered mute because my voiced preference never mattered from the beginning.

Mute-rage is my mutation, and I hate it, and there's not a damn thing that can change my life's origins.  My first year was lived among strangers who allowed my head to go flat on one side.  What does that say about the amount of care and attention Baby Girl 1968 got from the adults who were paid to care for said baby girl?

It suffocates me and bathes me in pain, thinking about the pattern that so easily developed...but my voice is silent to those who should have cared.

Those who should have cared, don't... those who try to care are not all that able to help me when my whole picture grows dark before my always open eyes.

There have been so many "replacements" in my life; not one was what I would have chosen, or naturally wanted.  I know this to my primal core, as I feel it deep inside my bones and the guts that are filled with my angry and sadly deprived blood.

The silent screams make my ears bleed, but those too, go unseen... so I have learned to accept rage as my most intimate internal friend... the one who refuses to go away.

by Kerry on Monday, 12 May 2008