I blog in my mind all the time. It used to be I didn't have time to come here to write. Anymore, I hold in pretty much everything because I have closed many windows that once peered into my life and I'd rather leave those shades drawn. Doing that has forced me to close off many of my avenues of release--writing, interacting on Facebook, corresponding via e-mail, visiting certain areas because of whom I may run into or see.
In some ways, I've never been happier. Constantly defending yourself and your choices makes for an exhausting part-time job. At first, it hurt to realize that no matter what I did, it would never be good enough. It hurt even more when I realized this isn't something new. This is and has been my life, for years. I saw the first inkling of this when our trusted therapist told me that the only way we'd continued to survive as well as we had and the only way I still had a sense of humor about the mess our daily life had become was because I'd been groomed for this from childhood. Take that emotional abuse and keep on trucking.
I understand what she's saying, but I don't blame anyone for who I am. I've allowed myself to be made to feel less than. I've taught people how to treat me by putting up with some pretty messed up bullshit.
There is really not one positive thing that has come from the decision we made three years ago to adopt. However, I'm determined, as always, to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Very soon (although not soon enough), this whole experience can be left in the past along with a lot of other things.
I'm almost 40. I've wasted a monumental amount of time on people, places, and things that should have been left curbside decades ago. I've decided not to do those kinds of things anymore. I can't change other people. And, if people don't change (I believe very few people do), then an adult is faced with a choice. You either continue on in the relationship, taking whatever someone dishes out or, you don't.
Push came to shove a long time ago in my life.
I know who loves me.
I know who claims to, but can't possibly given what has been said and done...or not. And, frankly, if that is what it takes to be on the 'loved' list, I'd rather be on the casual acquaintance list given that the fakey persona shown to those folks is so much nicer.
I'm done wasting time trying to prove a negative. You can't prove you're something you're not. Period. You are who you are and if people choose to believe differently that that, it will be their loss.
When people show you who they are, you need to believe them. Even if it sucks.
My children requested a break from the drama a few months ago. Try as I might to cover it up, they saw the things hurting me. Not only because it was only hurting me, but because they were also being hurt. So, we're taking that break.
The hiatus is self-imposed and it is indefinite in duration.
And, it feels great to take the necessary steps to protect my kids from that hurt. It's sad that I was willing to be called names and treated as a horrible person in the hopes that my kids could continue interacting with those choosing to behave inappropriately. But then, it started to affect them and my husband and I took a step back and said, "What in the HELL are we doing? This is crazy. We're done."
And so we are.
People can feel however they want. Many of them choose to share all those feelings, filter-free because they somehow feel they have the right. They have ignored our directives over the past year and a half and have cost our family dearly. For those folks who want to keep believing they know better than us and who, even though they can't even walk in our shoes for more than a day or two, feel that we are failures--Go on with your bad self. Preach it. Talk all you want. Bait all you want. Put on that public face and represent to those who believe it that you actually care.
I refuse to participate. People can continue to behave however they wish. But when it affects my family, I don't have to be a part of it.
From now on, if I want to write, I'm writing.
And, I am not ashamed to say that even given his many foibles, my husband is the only person who walked through this fire with me and who honestly gets it. And, who respects and loves me more because of what we've been through. I love him more today than I ever could imagine possible. He has been my rock. I trust him. I trust a handful of other people. And that's that.
We have given up and had so much taken from us because of one fateful decision to try and grow our family through adoption. Mental illness is no joke. If you don't live with someone whose brain is physically altered because of what happened to them, you can have no earthly idea.
I refuse to give up the one thing I love--writing. It's the only thing that is really mine. Not even my business is mine anymore because all my commission is going to go pay our legal bills for the dissolution of this adoption.
Whatever. Spilled milk. Not worth crying over anymore.
Cleaning off a shelf in my closet because the boxes up there are growing in number. But, I'm okay with it. I'm a better, stronger person for it.