Reunion is harder when you’re only 14…
And when your nmom is bipolar…
And when it was brought upon you by force…
And when your nmom is ODing on Kool-Aid.
Reunion is great as long as both parties are ready for it. In my case, neither were. Yet, you can’t change what’s going on. What happened, happened. What is happening, is happening.
Sometimes I wish I could just open her eyes to make her see what I see, but I don’t know how. I want a pair of anti fog glasses. It took me 3 years to figure this all out, she’s had 14.
She’s proud of me, and she’s trying now. But… it’s still hard. It will always be. But, I guess that’s why they call it a roller coaster.
Sorry for the suckish blog post. (and the lack of blog posts…) I’ve had a lot going on. I’m leaving for boarding school next month, and finished with a 3.7 unweighted GPA for freshman year. (woot!)
I’ll try to make time for blogging even though I’m working 5/7 days a week and have a mega hectic schedule.
Peace to all.
Spring Break is in the air…
April 3, 2010, 10:19 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Beauty,
Eating Disorder,
Life | Tags:
Adoption,
adoption movies,
Juno,
Mom at 16,
spring break,
teenage adopteeIt’s every teenager’s dream, right? Live by the beach in the warm weather. Go tanning every day? Spring break! But.. it’s not as lovely as it seems. I’d like to thank my mother for my abnormally fair skin. Yes, I am the girl whose mother constantly nags and warns about the dangers of the sun. I’ve gotten quite used to it. In fact, I actually like my fair complexion.
For the first time all week I’ve gotten out of the house. I’ve been sick. On Spring Break. Lovely, eh?
So I went to the beach today with a couple of friends. I decided I’d let people judge. I didn’t wear my watch to cover my scars (some fresh, sadly) and I wore a bikini. If people want to judge, by all means. I, however, will not return the favor.
I had a lovely time. It’s nice to be carefree every now and then. I felt like a normal teenager for the first time in months, and I got a tan (sunburn, sunburn, sunburn). Okay, what am I kidding, I got sunburnt… a little… but my face is tanned!
I guess being an adoptee makes adoption seem more obvious in the real world. When you see a young Asian girl with white parents you immediately feel her pain, even though she might not feel it yet. Everywhere I look I see adoption. It’s like I can run, but I can’t hide. I mean, while I was in line for an ice cream some newlyweds were discussing which ethnicity of a child to get as if children were just a commodity. The sad thing is, they are. I don’t think people realize how often children are just sold.
While I was sick I was watching Lifetime movies. Mom at 16, The Pregnancy Pact, Baby for Sale, and other titles I cannot remember. Adoption, adoption, adoption.
I’m not against adoption being in the media, I’m against the way it is portrayed. There are some things that must be acknowledged with adoption.
There is loss, and there is pain.
There are some things that must be changed with adoption.
There is corruption, there is a lack of rights.
If these movies that reached thousands of people would have information that addressed the above mentioned, then I would be okay with this industry. Life isn’t a Juno, at all. Babies aren’t clean slates. Isn’t it obvious?
If you drop a child on its head as a baby, the effects would be visible. Why can’t the effects of adoption be as visible? Do people need special glasses? I’m willing to hand out pairs. It’s time we fixed this blindness.
Favoritism.
March 18, 2010, 6:56 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Bullying,
Life,
School | Tags:
Adoption,
Bullying,
daddy's girl,
favoritism,
School,
SoftballI’ve never been anyone’s favorite. I was never daddy’s little girl, I was never his kid. This past weekend my father said some hurtful things. But when he says those words, it’s not him speaking, it’s the alcohol. I learned at a young age not to take his words to heart. He didn’t mean it, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. I wish I knew what he was like before the drinking. I wish I knew him before his breathing became labored, and his face was red from the drug.
People say ”adopted children are lucky.” No, truly we are not. I have not had an easy life, that is for sure. For the past 14 years I’ve been trying to make my parents proud and have been failing greatly. All I want is a pat on the back, a job well done. I just want to be loved. Is it that hard?
The head softball coach for JV quit Monday. The assistant is now our only coach. He’s chosen his favorite, and it’s not him. I’m trying so hard to get liked, to be… noticed. I’ve grown to love infield. I can catch a popfly. I mean, I can catch a popfly. My old coach asked my friend if she’d been feeding me nails for breakfast because I’m so aggressive out there. Yet, despite my aggressiveness and my technique, I’m not good enough. One girl has an awful technique but is cute. The coach even has a nickname for her. She got to play for the full game and I was taken out after the third inning (at least I wasn’t a sub this time). And my friend, who’s been playing softball for years was playing as a sub in the second string. What’s wrong with this picture?
Well, actually. I am a favorite now. Not by my father, not by my teachers, and definitely not by my coaches. I’m someone’s “freshman.” Not like the whole “get me stuff” relationship, but more of a “you’re cool, let’s hang” type of thing. It’s pretty cool.
Plus, she can beat up the junior who made me do all her work at practice yesterday and then hit me. *sighs*
I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor
March 10, 2010, 8:11 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Bullying,
Life,
School | Tags:
Adoption,
adoption agencies,
Bullying,
death threat,
fight,
SchoolToday at school there was a huge fight. When I say huge, I mean one girl was arrested. So there were three girls. One girl is rumored to be pregnant. She was punched in the stomach and had scratches all over her face. She was unrecognizable. A lot of girls do not like her, she has the reputation of a slut. Everyone was cheering the other girls on, that’s not fair. Mob mentality.
So the girl who punched the rumored to be pregnant girl in the stomach was arrested (I cheer on the inside)
I think that this could be interpreted as a metaphor for adoption. Some agencies are just so brutal with trying to get babies. They’re methods are blinding, and like this the effects of the punches may not be felt right away but they soon will come. And, if this is a metaphor for adoption, then it is a hopeful one. Hope is something that just shines light on the dark spots and makes them better because forgetting is worse than the pain of remembering.
I’ve gotten comfortable in my own skin, heck I’m comfortable enough to talk to people which is a step up from a few weeks ago. I’m pretty sure it was my adoption issues/bullying issues that prevented me from opening my mouth. Actually, it was my bullying issues but my adoption issues exacerbated their effects. I was afraid people would hurt me and then leave me: all truth lost in the separation. That bugged me.
Seeing the fight today reminded me how things are so much better. Last year a few girls threatened to kill me on numerous occasions. It was very scary for me to hear those things, the words just scarred. I would hide in my bedroom under the covers with my doors and windows locked. People were cheering those girls on when I got hurt last year. I know what it’s like.
I’m not their victim, I survived. Like many others, I’ve gotten through this. I’m climbing a new mountain, right now is a new search for truth.
They never won. And they never will.
The girl in the oversized t-shirt
We all know the girl who wears an oversized t-shirt to the beach or the pool. The girl who never takes it off because she doesn’t like the way her body is. We all know the girl who wears twenty hair ties on her arms to cover her struggles. The girl who never knew how to ask for help because she didn’t know how to ask for it.
And we all know the girl who has gone 11 days without doing the horrid act.
And the girl who doesn’t lie when she smiles anymore.
And the girl who is beginning to question the use of the oversized t-shirt.
And the girl who holds her head high and doesn’t look back on her former life: a life of repeated peer abuse.
We all know the girl who doesn’t wear make-up because she believes that it is a lie: covering your faults as if to erase them.
Here’s the girl who is herself.
complete: fully carried out
February 13, 2010, 3:45 pm
Filed under:
Life,
School | Tags:
adopted teen,
Bad grades,
Boarding School,
Happy,
High School,
Homework,
Some of Us,
StarsailorI pressed the send button on the email this morning. My final step in the application for boarding school is complete. Done, zip, no more! I’ve been agonizing over this all week, my mom has been stressing me even more with this by telling me the unthinkable. Now, I’m happy to say that my work is done.
All I have left is to wait.
So, that being said, I’m in a pretty good mood. You’d think I’d be semi catatonic right now, but I’m actually doing quite well. Today I’m going over to a friend’s house for her birthday celebration. I’m pretty excited. Especially saying that I found her the most perfect gift!
I guess a week that began on a low is going to finish on a high, I haven’t had that happen in a long time.
I really should work on bringing my grades up this weekend. Right now I have one F, one D, three C’s, one B, and one A. I’ve never gotten anything below a B before. Albeit this is only the beginning of the quarter I should still fix them. It’s kind of distressing to see those god-awful grades. I’d better rock that self-esteem shield to raise my F and do a super dandy job on my Bystanders and their Role in Bullying paper, too. And I have that lab for AP Environmental…
Ever heard of a weekend?!?
*sighs*
Right now I have “Some of Us” by Starsailor in my head. It’s a pretty good song. You should check it out (says the girl who is avoiding her increasingly high stack of homework)
I’m going to start my Comm. Psych. homework.
Have a great long weekend!!!
boil: to heat or become heated to a pressure
February 9, 2010, 5:05 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Bullying,
Eating Disorder,
Life | Tags:
adopted teen,
Adoption,
Adoptive Parents,
Anorexia,
Bullying,
cutting,
Disappointment,
High School,
Rejection,
Stress,
WorthlessnessWARNING: contents under pressure.
Sigh, I guess I should be used to rejection. After all my experiences with it at school it’s shocking that I can’t take it this once. Lemme rewind. A few nights ago I was searching through my adoptive mother’s room and I found an article about adoption. There were so many similarities with mine that I’m pretty sure it was mine. So the article confirmed that my mother was a teenager. So I begin to search classmates.com and high school alumni sites around the hospital I was born in for pregnant teens in my birth year. I find a name, she was proud of giving me up. She loved the experience. She was recommending it to others because she loved it so much.
In the article she said that adoption was the easiest decision that she’s ever had to make. It was easy to give me up? Me?!? ME?!? ME?!?
I threw up when I read that. It was so sickening. I’m not wanted anywhere. Where do I fit? At school? Nope… Home? Not really. I’m not wanted. It’s times like these where I wish I would have been aborted. It would have been easier on her and caused no pain. And, not to mention, I wouldn’t even know what happened so please do not take this as suicidal thoughts because that is the last thing on my mind.
That aside, yesterday at school, a popular girl made the comment that all ugly people should die. She was staring directly into my eyes. So, I’m invisible and hated. glorious!!!
Last week I skipped so many meals that it’s sickening to even think about it. Call it stress, call it a stage but whatever it is it’s obviously not healthy and this week I am attempting to resolve that.
OH! And stress!!! These past two months I’ve been getting in daily arguments with my mother. I really cannot see what is provoking them. I mean, I’ll walk out of the house in a t-shirt and she calls me a whore. I work on an essay that I have to write but she doesn’t like how I worded it. I’m under so much stress right now I could scream. It’s verbal blows, that’s what it is.
Right now I want a hug, or to cry, or a song that will make me cry. Anything really.
*sighs* What… ever…
emp-ty: containing nothing; having none of the usual or appropriate contents
February 1, 2010, 8:13 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Bullying,
Life | Tags:
Adoption,
Bullying,
cutting,
emotions,
emptiness,
guilt,
rape,
self injury,
SilenceI can’t even begin to describe how I feel… empty? Would that be the right word? I’ve let people down. I should have been watching over him, taken care of him, and now… he could be dead. It seems as if all it takes is one simple word for life to come crashing down. A thought, even, did the trick.
All day I just wanted to cry but I couldn’t. I can’t cry. I wanted to stop feeling this, I usually never feel. But, the thing is, I was feeling all these emotions but I wasn’t feeling them. It’s so hard to explain. I just wanted to feel something other than emptiness.
I want to undo all the wrongs in my life, I’d like to have friends. I’m wondering right now, what’d it’d be like if all these things would never have happened. Could I be a normal, happy teen? Why am I not a normal, happy teen?
I hate wishing and dreaming because they are pure fantasies. Since the day I was born, I’ve been experiencing reality: the harsh truth. At 6 I lost all innocence, unfortunately I can never get back what they took from me.
My writing is just a rambling. I can’t speak. I haven’t spoken a word since yesterday. Let’s see how long that lasts.
*sighs*
mi-graine: pain in one side of the side
January 26, 2010, 7:57 pm
Filed under:
Adoption,
Bullying,
Life | Tags:
adopted teen,
adoptee,
bio mom,
High School,
hurt,
prejudice,
Stereotypes,
teenager,
WordsNow, why on earth did I choose migraine today? No, I don’t have one today… But migraines tend to last for a long time with me, between two and three days so to me a migraine is a long lasting pain.
It’s surprising at what words mark you. It’s not always obvious. Today during class, one girl told me my mom was a ho. I was appalled. How can she say that?!? Where was the premise to base her prejudgment? I can’t even say that because I don’t know her, and she’s my mother. Even if it were true, I’d never say that. So, enlighten me: why can a random girl just say “You’re mom’s a ho to me?”
No reason, eh?
Those words really marked me… because it’s been hours since they were said. Maybe I’m just overanalyzing…
But, WHY?!?
The girl who said those words to me was in no way, shape, or form to make judgments. I could just as easily responded with something as shocking… maybe the fact that she wears a cloak to school… or the fact she’s obsessed with things that don’t exist… But no.
And, what’s with the stereotype? Can’t surrendering mothers be doctors, lawyers, soccer moms? Why ho’s? I wish the public would just listen, or maybe learn a thing or two. As a society, we are too quick to judge, mock, and ridicule. What about those who wear different colored converse, or the girls who don’t wear Aberzombie and Hollister? What about the girl in the hippie headband and zebra sweater. Is she overlooked and labeled weird for originality.
Stereotypes cause pain.
Pain is bad.
Therefore, no more stereotypes.
de⋅ni⋅al: disbelief in the existence or reality of a thing
Some people just refuse to believe in the pain surrounding adoption. It’s like trying to explain to a child that their parents are divorcing out of love, it just doesn’t make sense to them. Of course that is a bad metaphor as parents divorcing is rarely a result of love, more of hate as I have learned.
You see, it isn’t the denial that is infuriating, because there are skeptics everywhere. The true pain in this is that those people dismiss our pain as if it’s just a story we are making up.
I find adoption and its stages of grieving no different than death. With death, at least you know that the person is gone. As John Walsh always says on America’s Most Wanted, not knowing is the hardest part. I’ve begun the stages of grieving, I’ve passed denial, and anger, and possibly a few more. But unlike death, I will never “accept” this fact because adoption is something that I will never condone. Why should I accept this?
The thing about adoption is… it’s permanent.
3 and 1/2 years…
