I was up late last night finishing the last minute presents for my family. Today of course I am utterly exhausted. I read an article the other night about adoption and the primal wound it leaves behind in the adoption triad. As I was working on Christmas gifts, I began my thinking about that article.
I realized that I had researched all my options on family structure. That I had done all my work possible on those issues. I also discovered last night that they don't affect me as much anymore. I had written journals of stuff on alcoholism and its effects on children and parents. I thought about where my rage comes from. I mentioned in a previous blog that I had an issue with my first adoptive father. He remarried two weeks after his divorce from my mother. Even went as far as adopting a child named Amy. I realized that action has left some long term scars. Even my sisters have scars from this same type of wound. I know that we all have struck out at my mother for this. I realize that it was no fault of hers or my second adoptive father. They both did the best that they could. They were helpless to help us with those issues.
If I am ever going to face this rage and get it gone, I have to face my first adoptive father and tell him what I feel. I also have come to terms that the only way I am going to ever face my birth family. This issue must be faced head on and with conclusion and finality. My adoptive father is a selfish jerk. I hope that I never see him again. I know that this must be done though. I plan on writing about it for a while. Then I will compose my thoughts to him and put it down on paper.
Until the next blog, keep pushing that pen to your elected officials. Change the laws so that they don't hurt us anymore.