Interesting title for a post but today and tomorrow that is what I feel. Tomorrow is my 41st birthday. My birthday is something that is sort of an oddity for me or at least in the past it was. Last year my mom sent me a dozen white roses. It brought me to tears. Yes I want my family to celebrate it but this year I hate it. Just plain hate it. I spent yesterday being weepy. I will probably be weepy today and tomorrow.
Right now I want to punch a wall. Scream at the top of my lungs. Throw all kinds of crap. Scream some more. I want to destroy something but I can't. I have to watch what I say and do around my children. I can't throw a major hissy fit like I want. I have to be an adult.
I don't know how many times I have read those transcripts. The very first time I read it. I was hurt by the way she placed her sons over me. I got the impression that she felt women were not important or useful. As I read it again, I saw the fear. I asked myself, "how can I have such a coward for a mother?" Here I have fought in a war time situation. I have taken on the good old boy system here in Texas for years. I was a city carrier for the Postal Service. That job is tough on men yet I did the job. My parents never allowed me to hide or keep secrets. It just wasn't acceptable in my family. Whatever action I caused, I had to face the reaction for it. I too have faced abuse by a father. Only difference with my father is that alcohol made that happen. He realized his mistakes before he died. He made amends to all of us in his own way. His mission on earth was through. He and I were friends because he worked for Fed Ex and UPS and I worked for the Postal Service. He understood the problems that I faced with the cruelty of the Postal Service management. I faced some tough ones. I came out ahead. I thank those people because they made me stronger. They didn't defeat me. Yet she is a defeatist.
What really ticks me off even more as I began to search I talked to many many birthmothers. I made sure that I understood. I made sure that I would not back away from her. That I would stand strong and care for her if all the memories came rushing. I made sure that I could help her. Even though I had friends to back me, I never bothered to take care of me. I never bothered to acknowledge my feelings or emotions in this. How can I really take care of myself when all that I did was prepare for her? I can't even begin to imagine not acknowledging my daughters. Neither can any member of my family, my birthparent friends, or my adoptee friends. I have said before she is rejecting herself by rejecting me.
She worries about the rejection of her husband and her sons. She never worries about my rejection after all that she has said. She never seems to worry truly about my hurt, the chaos created by her rejection. All she says is that she is sorry. Yep she is sorry. She never thinks about the possibility about her sons rejecting her because she failed to tell them about me. That they have a brother in law and two nieces along with an older sister.
I can't do anything about all of this because I have done all my searching possible at this point. I can help others search. I can help others with the pain of adoption. In that I find solace. So here's to Happy Screw You Day.