The Adoptee's Silence of Guilt, Fear and Omission
I have discovered something quite astounding about my silence, my "OMISSION" and in keeping my own biological child's biological father secret, I am also the biggest hypocrite as I write about these specific lies and condemn the adoptive parents who do the same.
When a person has experienced a prolonged phase or long time of continued psychological, verbal, physical and sexual abuse, and then we escape it. We never again discuss it, talk about it and when the thoughts and dreams expose this truth we try to ignore it and hold this unpleasant time in our past, swallowed deep down inside us. We are preserving that time forever as it happened yesterday. Without trying to work through this time. The time period and all daily memories from that time become preserved forever as it is encapsulated in time as though it happened last night. By trying to ignore the past we are essentially preserving it word for word, blow for blow and bruise for broken bones. The entire time is psychologically preserved in time for precise and exact details to recall for future reference. When we omit the past from our lives, that which is omitted can never be resolved, can never become part of our autobiographical memory as the bad memories stay suspended in time as trauma memory. Until we begin to think about this horrible time, begin to talk about what happened and how it happened, until we psychologically begin to deal with the huge missing space in the timeline of our lives, we can never get over it, get on with life. As we are suspended in time from an unpleasant experience of living. The time in our lives which we would rather forget where we took part in a dangerous lifestyle teetering on suicide, will always be within our present until we begin to unravel the extended time of our bad behavior and accept how we lived, what we did and who we hurt in the process of survival.
I have omitted this period of my life for twenty years.
I have never spoken about it to anyone, keeping this secret pain, violence and my most self destructive phase in my life. I committed to silence to endure or to ignore it and to suffer through my regrets all by myself within my miserable existence. I am guilty of being selfish enough to jump onto any damaged soul passing by to save me from my own misery. My jump into this episode of self-destruction was to escape my own miserable relationship with my adoptive parent no matter what the consequences would bring. Although the consequences of this particular jump were monumental and the one redeeming event, the one good thing that came out of my jump to self destruction would eventually save my life, as I got pregnant and decided to devote my life to being my child's mother.
When an Adoptee has endured prolonged childhood abuse we know no other familiarity, and as we try and try escape it, only to find the replacement that is more sadistic, more abusive and more violent than we could ever hope for. We find calm in the familiarity of the drama. I found such a relationship that proved to be worthy of my own self-mutilation, self hatred and self destruction. The violent fights, the love marks in the form of black eyes, broken bones and the favorite late night drunk fights, where my parents would come home at two am and tear each other and the house apart. I was my ultimate sadistic fantasy reality for wanting to end my life in a violent way as violence is and was my only friend.
As I participated in a daily routine of self destruction with the assistance of a new even crazier than I partner that is equally self destructive or more than I could imagine. We engaged in the perpetuation of violence, abuse, drunkenness and the self destruction that left a path of broken things, owing money and playing the drinking games of college students without the education.
Living on the extreme edge of possibly going to jail every night of the week. The drinking was exhausting
and then my partner started using meth. That was the one line I could not cross and the beginning of the end of my drinking days and my boyfriend turned meth addict began beating on me, deceiving, stealing and every imaginable repulsive deed to destroy me.
I became pregnant and stopped drinking, to his dismay I would not get an abortion as I found out I was pregnant at six months along. The drug use in my home escalated to the point I had to get rid of him out of fear, self-preservation and the future of my child depended on it. I resolved myself to a life of routine, stability and calm. I needed to be strong for my unborn child and I needed peace and an escape to a new reality. Lucky for me at the time my midwife's husband was going through a cocaine addiction so she understood the dangerous position that I was living in. She helped me, counselled me and gave me hope that I could make a normal life for my child. You see it was my pregnancy that saved my life, changed my life and taught me to do this all for someone other than myself. I learned that I could be worthy of being a mother if I dedicated my life and fallowed through with what was more important than my selfish quest to end my own life.