Animal instincts, attachment, bonding, and feeling scared

Lately, I have been exchanging emails with an Amother and an adult adoptee, and as strange as it may sound, while each has very different stories related to very different phases in life, both seem to be sharing the same problem: they don't know what to do when the walls go up, and the barriers surround.

I find myself in the precarious position of knowing some of the whys, the hows and the what-not-to-do's when it comes to learning how to bridge the gap from scared little bear, to caring and capable warm human being.

The following is a story from my own life-experience written to the adoptee, hoping the story would help illustrate how stress and fear can affect someone, and what can happen when one feels trapped and unsafe. For many of us abused and abandoned adoptees, we need to know and understand there are times, places, and circumstances under which it's ok to let the caring helping-hand in... so it can work it's magic.

The story begins:

Last year, I was working mainly on the floor where patients with Alzheimer's and dementia wentto live the rest of their lives, and die.

For the most part, I was very emotionally removed from everyone, but out of the almost 60 patients, there were maybe 2 or 3 I really liked because they were really cute... like old man cute. One of my favorite cuties was a woman, I will refer to as Mary.

Mary reminded me of a little bird --and while I normally don't like birds, (ok, truthfully, I fear and hate almost all of them...) she was the sort of cute little bird that has small puffy little feathers and would sit on her perch, and do nothing, but look around and look real cute.

Now in the past, I never really cared for women, as people or patients. Having a mother like my Amother established a dislike and mistrust towards others... the sort of feelings/mind-set and conditioned association that would not go away.

But Mary was different.

Because I work the night shift, I'd get these people while they were sleeping... and while most Alzheimer patients will get their days and nights confused, for the most part, the majority of the time,almost all the patients on this particular floor would sleep the whole night, uninterrupted, because they were given sleeping pills.

I could tell Mary was deteriorating because the nightmares kicked-in.

She'd sit up straight, in her fluffy bed, (family members brought in really soft cute blankets for her, so it looked like she was in a nest when she was in bed), and she'd scream.

That's when I realized what made Mary different.

When Mary got scared, she didn't yell out "MOM!" or a spouses name, like most patients do... she'd scream "DAD!".

There was something so sweet and sad that her childish basic instinct reverted back to calling out for her dad when she was scared and wanted/needed help. The regression seen in patients is normal and common, but many times unresolved issues will come out, too....especially if the person was ever raped, tortured/abused earlier in life. This is what makes my job so nuts and crazy, because we get a lot of former military men who were POWs, or women who lost/killed their babies/children. It's very very sad and disturbing stuff...anyway....

As one who has been left alone to endure many surgeries and many difficult medical situations in my own life, I know and remember just how critically important it is- or can be - to feel someone's hand, telling me I was going to be ok. The human need for touch and comfort is a need, and I think, most people forget this basic human need, until they themselves are in the sort of situation where they fear what's coming next, and feel that sensation that lifeor death is looming like a blanket.

In the past,, if I knew a patient was really scared or stressed, I would do what most nurses I've worked with DON'T do.... I'd stay and hold one hand, and use my other hand to stroke the patient's arm or back until the patient told me it was time to let go. [I like them having that control, since there is little else they can control in the sort of crisis situation I'm talking about.] The reaction to me and my offer,to this day, is almost always immediate and intense and the same: the average patient will grip my hand, like a vice and that vice-grip would stay until a sense of more calm would penetrate and take-over.Only then, when calm took-over, would the vice grip become less tight,and finally it would loosen enough so I can take my own hand back,usually sore and wet. Others, the more stubborn, angry bears as I would call them, would ignore my touch for a bit, then slowly realize my hand wasn't moving... that it'd be ok to hold it.... and then they'd slowly hold, then squeeze. <tears>.... those scared angry bear squeezes are my favorites. It's as if after the traumatic event,it was made clear we both speak the same language.

Well, one night, Mary was having a very bad time; her condition was quickly deteriorating, and she was ordered to have morphine every 2hours for pain or difficulty in breathing.

It broke my heart seeing my little Mary in this deteriorated state. That wasn't my Mary. My Mary used to be perched in her little nest at the way end of the hall. She did not need to be seated in a specialized wheel chair that reclines, right next to the nurse's station, so her behaviors could be more closely monitored. This new Mary looked frail and old.... even a little mean. I didn't like this new Mary. So once she seemed to settle down, I asked one of my nursing assistants to put her back to bed, that way she could be more comfy, and maybe sleep.

Mary was in bed for about five minutes before she yelled out,"DAD! DAD!". Of course I was nearby, because I kept checking-in, so I went in her room and sure enough, there was poor cute Mary, sitting-up, scared.

I did something I NEVER do.....

I sat on the bed with her, and at first I tried to stroke her arm, but I found myself wrapping my arms around her,instead, like she were the child, and I were the mom she didn't call for, but most likely needed.

My God, she was like a little child.... sobbing, scared... so afraid of something. Everything about her exhibited a state of fear and terror.

So I did something else I would never do to a stranger, but have done to my own kids -- I used the back of my fingers, and stroked her cheek and face. She didn't know if she should hold onto my body or squeeze my hands into her face, like people do when they take a persons hand and hold it against their cheek.

At first it felt really creepy touching her in such an intimate way.... but my touch calmed her, and soon she was able to relax enough to sit back, lay-down, and get snug in her bed. I think at one point, I even kissed her, and nuzzled my face into her cheek so she could feel me... feel the warmth... feel the safety that someone was near, someone was watching,someone was going to take care of her, and she'd be ok.

I spent maybe 45 minutes with her, which by any institutional standard, is a lot, especially when my job requirements [the tedious bureaucratic BS we have to do each shift] are very time consuming and almost endless. I had few problems with Mary the rest of the night,and when she did call-out, she called while she was still lying down,and because my voice and touch were already familiar, it took less time for her to relax and feel reassured. I made it a point to always whisper mommy-sort of things in her ear, and give her a kiss.... then she'd say "thank you!" in her cute little cheerful chirp.Damn she was cute... and I was so glad she could calm down and rest.... she needed the sleep.... she was exhausted, and it showed in every way. It made me feel good knowing I gave her what she needed,when she needed it.

As I write this, I recognize my own adoption/abuse issues, and how they have manifested their way into my actions and emotions, especially when I'm feeling angry, hurt, or upset. I recognize how often I would not let anyone offer me a hug,because I saw such actions as so transient and superficial. I hate superficial. I hate when seemingly sincere acts become insincere, and the battle for control begins.

For a while, as they saw me in Mary's room, on her bed, my nurses' aids thought I was nuts,spending so much time on one single patient, when there were so many on the floor. But it became very clear, once they saw the results,from that point on, they never questioned me or my mind-set if I told them to do something out of the ordinary. They knew in that milieu, I knew what I was doing for whom.

While I myself am still earning the way real authentic caring intimacy works from the receiving-end.... it's still all so new to me... I have learned, so far, this "new" type of intimacy... it feels good... it feels nicer and sweeter than sex.... it simply feeds the heart and soul.... something I feel very deficient in. I've learned, sometimes words are not enough... sometimes, with the right person, whoever somehow reaches and touches me in a way that few really can, it's ok to break the lines and barriers I know I myself have put up and maintained. It's not easy trusting in another...not when so many decide they've had enough, or feel too burdened by my pain and needs.

The information I wanted to share with this adult adoptee continued:

In the past I would use sex as a way/means to get and feel close to another person, but that means to achieve never worked.[It never does.] And since I can remember, I would not let people in,even though I know some really tried. The walls and barriers were too thick. I could do intimacy on a temporary/short-term even superficial sort of way, but even my best friends didn't know me or get as close as they thought they did. In retrospect, this shows me what I had with them was not real intimacy, at all. It was all more of the same, and I was done with the same. In fact, I hated it.

In the past 7 years, I have allowed 3 people into my world. Because of their steadfast commitment to me and their willingness to sit, endure, and really listen, I have learned the calm and bliss that comes with being loved, appreciated and understood

Adopters need to know, each child that is adopted has already suffered a trauma; they have already been treated like an unwanted thing or animal. Because the individual circumstances behind each adoption is different, adopters need to see there are various breeds of adoptees. Some are lost/abandoned little birds, who will respond quickly and not need too much attention; others are very hurt and angry bears, and require a LOT of kind patience and commitment. Each breed has it's own language/dialect, so meeting the needs of the wounded child has to be breed-specific and based on what soothes and calms the adoptee best.

Sadly, over the years, I have seen and read what some "adoption specialists", and their instructed APs do to quiet and subdue an angry triggered adoptee. The methods used are often cruel and barbaric. And while many in adoption-circles would like to believe and agree the use of force or deprivation on an adopted adoptee works, all those actions do is still the beast long enough to quiet the storm and allow the parent/authority figure to re-gain control and dominate.

The implications behind this "you WILL be controlled" teaching method, and the influence it has on future intimate relationships are huge. Just think about all the various ways a teen or adult will try to sooth and calm his or her own nerves. Sobering, isn't it?

I know for myself, it's very hard to go through PPL's abuse archives, and not feel incredibly sad and empathic for the many many children promised a forever loving and protective momma-bear, complete with a cozy and safe den, but got a mad circus trainer and lion, instead.