Infidelity, infertiltiy and secretly kept obsessions and addictions

I have a confession.  My warped mind is able to take any topic into an adoption issue.  Need proof?  Behold...

Roots of obsession
Sanford told Vogue that male politicians become blinded to how infidelity can poison their personal lives and political careers.

“Politicians become disconnected from the way everyone else lives in the world. I saw that from the very beginning,” said Sanford, who helped run her husband’s Senate and gubernatorial campaigns. “They’ll say they need something, and 10 people want to give it to them. It’s an ego boost, and it’s easy to drink your own Kool-Aid. As a wife, you do your best to keep them grounded, but it’s a real challenge.”

Sanford, who found out about the affair in January, said her husband was “obsessed” with visiting the Argentine divorcee Maria Belen Chapur.

“I have learned that these affairs are almost like an addiction to alcohol or pornography. They just can’t break away from them,” Sanford told Vogue.   [From:  Jenny Sanford: Affair was like ‘punches to gut’]

I cannot help but think my Amother, when she pursued adopted me, has always been little more than a formally battered child obsessed with the idea that she had to get what she wanted, no matter what obstacles got in her way.  In some, that sort of blind determination could be seen as passion and drive.  For myself, I see this sort of person lacking all good senses.

My Amother was the daughter of a wealthy alcoholic.  She was a poor little rich girl who didn't get what she wanted when she was a kid.  Someone had to pay.... even though she had a grandmother and aunt helping and praising her every move.

As the had acquisition, who became yet another grave disappointment in a lifetime of disappointments, I cannot help but think my Amother was addicted to a dream... a dream that was created by her imagination and a dream that revolved around a fantasy... that fantasy being The Ideal... Mother/Wife, Life and Family.  Each time her dream-world began to fall apart, she would reach for her crutch... her prescription pills.  The pills took the pain of disappointment away.  Those multi-colored pills put her in la-la-land.  Her Shangri-la was my living hell.

I think about how the adoption industry, even in the late 60's-early 70's fed into the ego that "I can have anything".  Ask, and you will receive.  Complain, and we will work on getting that fixed, even if it kills. Need a child?  We can get one.  Have a problem? We have a pill (or few) to fix it.

Yes, if you have the money, the power, the connections, even the mad infertile individual can have the son... the daughter... The American Dream.

Fast forward 40 years later.

FDH seems to have many of the same traits as The Shrew.  He felt he got screwed by his family.  He was never abused, but he was poor.  [Is there anything worse than being poor in this world?]  He had a dream of how things could and should be... so when he saw the chance, he took it.  He chose me.... the desperate bastard from a good (wealthy) family.  Lucky me. 

Yes, lucky me.  Lucky for me I was able to prove I was very capable and very fertile.  I was able to cook, clean, serve and produce the child he needed to make his family [mother/sisters] happy and complete.  But what if I were not the perfect fertile bride?  Would that problem in me have sent him to impregnate someone on the side?

I never saw FDH as an addict of any kind... instead, I see him as one who is obsessed.  Yes, he is obsessed with getting what he wants:  (other people's) money.  He's addicted to the image of ideal and perfection, and having that all for himself.   I wish I had seen this when I was 23.  As one who needed to seem perfect and be the answer to another person's dream, failure could not be an option for me.  [Failure to please means only one thing:  rejection.]

One person's unshared obsession can quickly become another person's very ugly/unwanted problem.

The term "addiction".... the phrase "obsessive personality" has always been a secret reality in my life.  I don't know anything about members in my biologic family, but I know for a fact addiction to alcohol, drugs and porn are existing problems for many "related" to me.  Here's the messed-up twist:  how many adults in my life spent decades seeking comfort in all the wrong places? How many of those experiences made me think, "I too have become a closet addict, burdened with all sorts hidden problems and issues."?  How many times did I allow myself to believe I have no sense of control or power?

My single worst dangerous obsession/addiction?  Over-thinking... especially when it relates to adoption and the sort of people who bring out the ugly in me.