About Adoptee Rage

Statistics Identify large populations of Adoptees in prisons, mental hospitals and committed suicide.
Fifty years of scientific studies on child adoption resulting in psychological harm to the child and
poor outcomes for a child's future.
Medical and psychological attempts to heal the broken bonds of adoption, promote reunions of biological parents and adult children. The other half of attempting to repair a severed Identity is counselling therapy to rebuild the self.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

The Forced Holiday Smile


The Forced On Holiday Smile

Being adopted means that where you came from, that is as unknown to yourself as is your real identity. The family that abandoned me that miserable day known as my birthday. Where I came from, my biological family has continued on with their lives uninterrupted by my long ago absence, they continue to live, grow up and grow older, and the worst part of it all to me, Is their continuity of a loving, caring and memory making family that I do not belong in. I never could imagine the depths psychological suffering or the consistency of new pains that I would discover and feel when you come to the realization that again I am an outsider, an alien and have nothing in common. Not to mention the harsh reality that my own biological family has absolutely no interested in me or my pathetic life in the least....Accept my brother's wife that invites me to contribute financially to my nephew's high school band's fundraising, If I contribute money to the kid's hobby funding then I might be allowed/forced to attend some horrific school engagement.  Gee thanks! However there is no relationship in the least attached to my giving them money for their kid's activities, as that is the only reason for my brothers wifes's emails., Never a Christmas card, bbq or bowling invite to participate  
in my own family, that is the christian material culture here in California. When I never sent her any money the fundraising requests stopped. The opposite is true for my paternal family but they are on the east coast,
and based in the racial south of a bible-thumping nature. The whole world is a disappointment when you are adopted, as no one will ever waste their time getting to know the adopted child in the slightest because they are temporary in nature and never authentically considered real kin. The adoptive parents decide who they want us to be, that is a complete contrast to who we really are although our identity is unknown to all. When I wanted to take piano lessons I got a piano for a Barbie doll! When I wanted to participate in my Baseball family's pastime "little-league", I received ballet lessons, and was forced to attend. You see I could never win, and never will be anything worth anyone's time or attention. As adoptee's are obsolete, once we have fulfilled our roles as adopted children, there is no longer a use for us. We are psychologically traumatized and this trauma grows more convincingly troubled as the years pass us by. We do not become older with more wisdom and insight, as we age the psyche damage burrows throughout our persona leaving a shell of a broken person in it's place. The horrors of adopted child abuse laying dormant in childhood's past, become the adoptee's everyday present. The enormity of the injustices suffered become forever amplified in our present day memories. There is no outlet, no release for rage held inside, although I struggle everyday to contain it, most days I want to beat someone to a bloody pulp, and maybe prison would or could contain the outrage that I keep simmering below my surface. At least in prison the law of the survival of the fittest, not the psychological mind fucks that we are forced to engage with in everyday life. The casual and meaningless manners and avoiding talking about anything that is real or concrete, the pleasant acquaintance conversations 
we engage in with the check-out girl at the grocery store, common courtesy and a wave hello to a neighbor, that could care less how your life is really going if you dare step beyond "the how are you"-"I am fine" conversations of good manners. When the adoptee looses the taste for our materialistic culture,
when there is no antedote for the bordem and melancholy that keeps adoptee's from jumping of the nearest bridge or taking one's own life for fear of living with the horible reality that our own life does not matter and never did. When we come to terms that our lives only had value when we possessed youth and the adoptee's self fulfilling prophecy that their life was not meant to be and the only real contribution to society was being that temporary adopted child puppet for the wealthy adopter that needed a child to fill their own void, lacking and in their desperation we provided the relief they sought. We were the temporary antidote, the answer to their emptiness. That our job and legal obligation to the adoption that we did not choose was fulfilled by our very existence, and the truth that we adoptee's had no more left to give.  
I always wished that there was a place for adoptees to go, to hide from the pain of the holidays. Like a rehab for adoptees to rehab our lives as each year's holiday passes more and more slowly with increasing misery, increased self awareness of brutal truths. It is no wonder that Christmas is the most popular holiday for adoptee suicides.