My Adoptee Pain that Lives On.
The daily pain I feel:
#1. From being conceived and ready to be born.
#2. From being abandoned by my first mother.
#3. From being shuffled in and out of foster homes.
#4. from being adopted to replace a dead child.
#5. From being maltreated by my adoptive mother.
#6. From being denied by my adoptive father.
#7. From being tortured by my jealous older brother.
#8. From being told I was stupid, lazy and dramatic.
#9. From being slapped, beaten and ignored.
#10. From being isolated from, by my adoptive family.
#11. From being forced to be silent, compliant & submissive.
#12. From not being allowed to defend myself against A-family.
#13. From being rejected,threatened & kicked out of A-family.
#14. Enduring lifetime scapegoating by A-family.
#15. Not knowing how to escape emotional-physically A-family.
#16. Not being a valid human that doesn't deserve abuse.
#17. Wasting my life believing adoptive family's lies.
#18. Not having the courage to stop engaging A-family.
#19. Not having self-determination to leave A-family.
#20. Leaving A-family too late, emotional slavery persists.
In reality, there is no healing or hoping my abusive family will change. To bridge this gap I would be placed right back into my "adopted child role" within my abusive family, and the norm their abusing me would continue forever without interruption.
If I went back I would loose what little gained ground, ability to find the true me as the true me would be instantly erased by them. As in their minds the true me was the helpless child that they saved from myself. I am now 48 years old and am just beginning to uncover my true self, that I could never have found under the scrutiny of the A-family's domination. The pain remains strong in my emotional disease of having no identity.
Yet each day I am alone and away from the A-family doubt, discouragement and control, I recover small parts of myself that belong to me alone... As the person I could have been, the person I have become. I am alive and intact, but the emotional and physical trauma I suffered at the hands of my adoptive mother, that she orchestrated as her narrative of who I should be, not who I was or am, was all along her delusional fantasy.