Following on from yesterday saying that I was utilising my time wisely and took ownership for it, today I am going to do a 180 degree u-turn and say that I am over commited. I have a book proposal to get in, in a week’s time, and I am also standing as a candidate for the Scottish Parliament with all the campaigning that that involves. The election takes place on 6th May, so a busy time at the moment.
I took some time today to write one of my chapters which will go in with the book proposal, so it left little time to write a lengthy blog post, so I will leave you with this:
This week I revisited the work of Deepak Chopra and his “chemicals of emotion” and was inspired to do a meditation to see what my main receptor was in my cells, and then attempt to replace them with more positive ones. Deepak calls them either connection or separation emotions and I was expecting to have pre-dominantally separation ones, due to my relinquishment history. I fully expected my receptors to be programmed for rejection or desparation, after all, that is what happened at zero hour in my life.
Here is my experience in this meditation:
Lying on the sofa under the duvet is my preferred place to meditate, I think it’s because it connects me to the time I was in the womb, as the place that I feel safe and secure to explore these feelings.
Using my usual method of breathing deeply I waited to sink deep within my body, and asked to link in to my emotion receptors. Once I had done that, I asked them what they were receptors for. I really wasn’t prepared for the answer, but I wasn’t surprised:
Gloom and Despair
My emotional receptors are programmed for gloom and despair, which didn’t sound good, so I set about weeding them out. In my mind I visualised pulling the receptors out, like weeds in the garden that are choking the flowers. I tuned into my body and asked where to start. I was guided to the right side of my neck and started pulling the weed that was there. It went into my shoulder joint, up my neck and into my head. I felt as if the roots were wrapped around my brain, and I gently teased them out.
What was I going to do with them once they’d been weeded out? I couldn’t leave them lying around, they would just re-root themselves, so I visualised the burning of the weeds, and the ashes being sprinkled on the soil, to provide feed for the new flowers that were going to bloom there. I planted some new plants. They are alpine plants as I recognise that the soil is thin and sparse, but with further meditation and visualisation I hope to get the soil rich enough to plant something substantial. What should I plant?
What do you think are your dominant emotion receptors? Are you happy with them or would you like to replace them. If you try my method, pleae let me know how you get on. I would love to hear.
Today the daylight and night hours are of equal length. We celebrate balance today, the light and the dark, the inner and the outer, the joining of the unconscious to the conscious. As I continue my journey with my Flourish Family, I am working hard at bringing the unconscious to the front of my mind, so that I can acknowledge and then heal the dark parts of me. It has not always been an easy path to travel, but one that is reaping it’s rewards.
It is also the first day of Spring in the northern hemisphere. We went for not one walk but two today. The first was a few miles from home and the second was round the park at the back of the house. The sun was not out quite as much as it had been in past days, and so the lighting was not great to take photos, but I managed to capture the spring flowers and blossoms, all of which remind me that summer is just around the corner and despite what has been going on globally, we don’t have to go too far from home to appreciate the beauty of nature and that it continues regradless of the actions of the humans on the planet.
As we approach the anniversary of lockdown in the UK, I have to admit that I am struggling. Despite living in a glorious part of the world, and having plenty of food on the table and money in the bank, I am struggling and I can’t quite seem to shift the energy around me. Having spent my entire life not really thinking that my adoption was such a bad thing, I am now realising that it has had such a big impact. I also recognise that it has such a big impact on so many other adoptees too. There is so much pain in the whole filed of adoptees, that I am feeling overwhelmed by it. My Flourish family are struggling and in pain and I feel hopeless in being able to help them.
This afternoon I tried to do a meditation where I switched all the negative points in my mind into positive ones, visualising all those – ve turning into little pin pricks of light like stars in the sky. Whilst I was doing this meditation I was inhaling the essential oils of bergamot and neroli in my diffuser, two of my favourite oils for elevating my mood.
With all that is going on in the world at the moment, with socialising so severely restricted, with our summer holiday looking dubious as to whether or not it is going to happen, I might need more meditation and visualisation tomorrow.
One piece of good news I received today. My craniosacral therapy study days are back on come July. I can get back to training 🙂
What do you do to cheer yourself up in these gloomy days of lockdown?
Yesterday we were intoduced to Biosynthesis, which starts in utero, and that there are three aspects of embodiment.
Ecto – thoughts, thinking, eyes and skin
Endo – emotions & feelings – organs
Meso – musculo-skeletal system and movement.
We were then asked to write about one aspect of our adoption story, and which of the three, or combination of them that we feel we work from, where we may be stuck or whatever comes up for us.
As someone who has been working on herself for over 30 years, I feel that I am pretty intergrated most of the time. My periods of “going” off when I don’t feel as if I am in my body, are lessening. When I do “go” I am able to recognise it a lot quicker, and find a quiet place to explore why I have been triggered, and then work on releasing the negative emotions attached to that event and then forgiving the person or people involved. Yesterday evening, watching the film, The Mauritanian, the main character explained that in his language, free and forgiveness, are the same word. Forgiveness sets us free.
So during the flourish writing session I was taken back to my teens, when I felt that no-one was allowed to function in their endo-aspect. You couldn’t let on that you weren’t happy, or that you were sad or angry, you put on a brave face, there were children in a far worse place than you were, smile and pretend that everything is alright with the world. Now I get the “Fake it to make it” sentiment, I really do, but that involves the ecto to be involved, and the meso to act as though it is happening. Just working from endo, in a fake way is not being truthful and honest, which is how I was brought up to be. So my ecto and my endo were not in sync together.
Without trying to judge my mother, I think she shut off her endo many years previously. She did not allow her emotions to show, and I appreciate that her life was not easy, being evacuated age 9 3/4, away from her mother, her father dying when she was 3 or 4. Marrying a man who was a womaniser. I now stop and wonder if he fathered any children outside of that marriage – now there’s a thought I hadn’t considered before. He had more than one affair I believe. Are there half brothers or sisters out there? My parents left London in 1954, what made them make that decision? Will someone contact my 3 siblings claiming that they were related. Oh how ignorance can be bliss. Maybe Vera knows them, maybe she was subjected to watching women’s bodies swell with the seed of her huband. DNA Family Secrets now takes on a whole new aspect.
But back to my teeneage years and my endo being closed off. It means that I went into my 20’s unable to function emotionally as I would like to have done. It is probably not unusual for an adoptee not to be able to express their emotions and be understood and heard and have them honoured by the people that matter to them. I am now in a marriage where my feelings are heard and my emotional needs met, where I am heard and listened to because we have explored things together.
Yesterday I was reminded in my musings, of the day of our wedding, when my mother told my mother in law that Steve was too good for me. As I was writing I became aware of a tremendous heavy weight, or burden being placed across my shoulders and my heart becam very heavy at the memory of that thought. I know it weighs heavily on me, and that to be free I need to forgive her. I know that my husband is a good man and that I deserve him and I deserve good in my life. Good is good, the good life is what we all deserve. Good for adoptees takes work, hard work, hard work digging, to find those nuggets that are hdden deep within us. Beautiful words, beautiful creations come from the pain and suffering that is in the world. All the beautiful songs and lyrics are borne out of pain, break-ups, deaths and partings. We adoptees can contribute to the beauty of creation when we engage all three aspects of ourselves and start creating.
I read your article that appeared on WIRED on 4th March 2021 titled Adoption Moved to Facebook and a War Began. I feel drawn to write a response in regard to it. You come across as someone who has done their research around the topic of adoption, quoting laws and papers that people can search for and read for themselves. However one opinion is very obviously missing from the article. I am not sure if you have come across the term “adoption triad”, I am sure you have, as you have clearly done your background reading, but the third side of the triad was missing, so I am going to try and attempt to provide that, and who knows with the power of the internet, you may get to read this, and you may feel compelled to reach out to an adoptee and write another article, putting our side across. I can provide names of several who have written on this topic, Anne Heffron, Pamela Cordano and Gabrielle Glaser to name just a few.
First of all, a short explanation of how I came to be writing my blog. In July 2020, when I joined the Hay House 7 day writer’s challenge, all I wanted to do was to write my story, one of adoption in the 1960’s, to a middle class white British family, and how in my late teens, I had met my birth parents and how that had panned out. I wa unprepard for the question posed by Kelly Notaras, which was, “Which two books do you want to see your book sandwiched between on the shelf at the bookstore?” I had absolutely no idea of any books that had been written around adoption, and so in the “stay at home” period of 2020, I spent a fortune on books, ranging from “Primal Wound” by Nancy Verrier to “You Don’t Look Adopted” by Anne Heffron. If you haven’t read them, I highly reccommned them. I also joined several facebook groups and even set my own up, in an effort to help adoptees find some healing as well as peace and joy in their hearts after adoption Finding Joy Community.
So with that bit of background to me I’ll ask “Are you sitting comfortably – with your favourite beverage in your hand – then I’ll begin.”
I am now going to ask you to imagine that it is 2047, and that you are Erin’s daughter, and her mother has just passed away. She is going through her mother’s belongings and finds the paperwork of her parents paying $25000 with an adoption agency. How do you think she feels at this moment Samantha? How do you think it feels as an adult to find that your parents bought you for that amount? Any amount? How do you think an adoptee feels when they realise that there was a price put on their relinquishment?
How do you think that young woman feels having spent her entire life trying to fill a void in Erin and Justin’s life, that was left by infertility? The chances are she looks nothing like them, but even if she did, she is a constant reminder that it took another couple to provide for them, what they couldn’t provide for themselves. That due to their career choices, they left it too long before starting a family of their own. So this baby/child is bought, to fill that hole. This child who is now grieving for it’s own family, it’s mothers’ arms, it’s mothers’ heartbeat, it’s mother’s smell that it has come to know in it’s nine months in utero, has now been asked to be part of Erin and Justin’s “Gotchaa” celebrations, whilst in reality she is grieiving. Think turning up at a wake only to find that the music is blaring for a dance party, fireworks are going off and people are laughing and celebrating, and then spreading it all over facebook at how proud you are of your “gotcha date”. From where I am sitting I am reminded of the child snatcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. ” Come here little boy – Gotcha!” Are you beginning to get an idea of how the adoptee community feels Samantha around other families celebrating getting them, whilst the baby is struggling to deal with feelings that it has no words for yet?
Erin appears to want things both ways. She wants to use facebook and the internet to get what she wants, but she is surprised when people who have been on the receiving end of her wants, fight back. Admittedly people tend to lose their ability to self-regulate when they become passionate, as key board warriors, but could that be because they know the pain and hurt that adoption causes, and that it is not pleasant to live with, and they want to help just one baby be kept within it’s family, rather than become a “fix” for someone else’s infertility issues.
There is little to no help for adoptees to try and understand their feelings and emotions. I am 60 and am only really just beginning to come to terms with it just now. I knew it affected all my relationships with men, throughout my 20’s 30’s and 40’s. After all who would want to stick around in my life and love me, when my own mother didn’t? The one person in the whole wide world who is going to stick around for you doesn’t, so why should some random man or woman you may meet going to remain by your side. Ask any adoptee? They’ll tell you that relationships are hard for them. They keep people at arms’ length. I wonder if Erin or Justin had done any research around how adoptee’s feel growing up away from their biology, away from their heritage, away from their genes? How do you think it feels to not be able to answer the question “Any herediatry dieseases in your family?”, when you go to the doctors? When you are pregnant yourself? You are left saying “I don’t know I was adopted”. How important is it to you Samantha to know what may or may not reveal itself in your genes in your lifetime, or what you may pass on to your children? I know, I know, we have DNA tests now, we adoptees can find out all this information, but d’you know what, it would be so much nicer if we could join in the conversations around the dinner table, when people are comparing physical attributes. Do I have my mother’s or my father’s eyes? Am I going to get knock knees like great aunt so and so? Why do I not feel drawn to being an attorney like my mother? Simple everyday questions that the adoptee cannot particiapte in around the dinner table, and leaves the table feeling only part of a person. Their family cannot understand what is wrong with them, why they act the way they do, because they have never researched the psychological trauma that is inflicted on the very young brain of a baby that is relinquished. They have not read the pPrimal Wound or watched Paul Sunderland’s video. Despite knowing that the bonding between mother an child starts long before the baby is born, we still think that it is okay to part a baby from it’s mother the moment that it is born. We have greater laws surrounding animals and their separation from their mothers than we do human beings. Does that surprise you Samantha? In animal circles it is well known that puppies separated from their mother’s before 8 weeks are more difficult to train, have behavioural problems and are more likely to end up in dogs’ homes for rehoming, than puppies that remain with their mothers. And yet Erin was happy to be the one to cut the cord, and sit with the baby in NICU. I wonder if the baby would have had the same breathing issues if she was able to lie on her mother’s chest and hear her heartbeat, smell her smell, and hear her voice. How distressed do you think that baby may have been, being surrounded by strangers and strange smells and sounds Samantha, did you ever stop to consider that when you wrote your article?
I could go on how it feels to be an adoptee, but I won’t. What struck me when I read your article was how in the past year we have heard Mark Zuckerberg go on about spreading misinformation regarding the covid 19 situation and the vaccine, labelling critical thinkers as conspiracy theorists, and sticking fact checker stickers across anything that doesn’t fit the narrative. Your article unfortunately for me came into that category. I am not an “anti-adopter” I am not anti-anything. I am very much a pro person. I am pro keeping medical and bodily autonomy. I am pro informed choice, I am pro keeping the family together whenever possible. And yet Mr Zuckerberg allows the buying and selling of children via his social media platform, with all the potential for child porn and child trafficking that comes with it. You may see this as a nice juicy topic to write about, I see a much bigger picture. With all his fact checkers I am sure he could put a stop to this today if he wanted to. For me personally, I wish he would, and I am sure many adoptees would do too.
I have been one of the lucky adoptees. Laws in the UK are very different to those in the US. I got my social files, I know the circumstances behind my adoption. I probably was better off being adopted that being left with my mother who, reading between the lines, was suffering with post natal depression after the birth of my elder sister. Maybe if she had had support and correct diagnosis and treatment I could have been raised by her. I may have a whole different set of issues, who knows. What I do know is that I could have sat at the dinner table and compared our eyes, our noses, our mouths, our double chins. She could have told me all about her labour that brought me into the world. I wouldn’t find out that she had paid $150 a month in facebook ads to look for a teenage pregnancy or a granny. Now that is direct marketting and buying a baby if ever I heard it. Shouldn’t that be illegal?
So for now I continue doing the research for my own story. And the 2 books that I would like my book to sit between on the shelf in the bookstore? Nancy Verrier’s Primal Wound and Anne Heffron’s You Don’t Look Adopted. I recommend them to you and I recommend them to anyone who is thinking of adopting someone elses’ baby.
Bessings and I look forward to hearing from you Samantha. Have a great weekend.
In Sunday’s Flourish session we were asked how it felt to be in our body. Well, without giving anything away from anybody else who is in the group, it would appear that we share an awful lot of bodily sensations. This is what I feel, and I wasn’t the only one.
I live in my head. Since joining the flourish group, I often find that I can’t switch my thoughts off. Sleeping was never really an issue for me, but since January I have found that some nights I cannot switch my thoughts off, to get to sleep easily. I drew my body with lots of ???? inside the skull. So many questions in my head at the moment, about the best way to help other adoptees.
I did give my head hair. Someone then announced that the hair was an extension of the nervous system. I drew tension across the top of my shoulders, and described it as carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I wonder what my atlas alignment is like at the moment?My heart was drawn as a heavy heart, and my stomach/solar plexus was active, as in the chakra was active. Again since January and joining the flourish group, my solar plexus has been over-active with lots of belching and wind coming up from the stomach. What is that all about? Need to do some meditaion on that and see what comes up. Not literally hopefully. Could it be that in all of the the processing I doing, I am fermenting some ideas, and like active yeast when combined with sugar, my thoughts are rising to the top, and giving off gas with it. I hope it’s not all a load of hot air and some of it can be nutrifying for others. I was quite unique in not having lots of stomach issues as a child. I can count on one hand the numbers of time I have been sick in my life (non-alcohol related).
The solar plexus is a big energy centre of the body, and sits underneath the diaphragm. In adoptees it needs lots of attention. They will often tell of feeling “empty” in this region or the feeling of being “punched in the stomach”, both of which are solar plexus’ imbalance and work on the chakras is beneficial to balance it. The solar plexus is the seat of the ego. It is the home of personal power and self esteem. When it is balanced the individual will have a high self-worth and confidence. Is it any surprise that it is out of balance in adoptees?
It may help to say the affirmation “I am worthy, I am worthwhile, I have worth” over three times whilst focussing on this area of the body. Imagine a small fire burning, and say “there is fire in my belly”. The colour of the solar plexus chakra is yellow. Eating foods yellow in colour can aid in balancing it, and wearing yellow can help too.
In over 20 years of working as a therapist, as a McTimoney Chiropractor, doing cranio-sacral therapy, massage and aromatherapy along with chakra work, I have experience in recognising what is out of balance with a person and what they need to do to bring their energy back into balance and harmony, using a range of tools. It is not always easy to recognise if a chakra has too much or too little energy in it. For my own healing I would do a meditation asking myself these questions?
What is my heart not in at the moment? Or am I putting too much “heart” into one thing at the expense of another? It is all about balance.
What can I not stomach? is there anything that I would express as “you make me sick”.
I would work on my whole chakra system to bring the business out of my head, and bring it down through my body and ground it. I am great at doing this for others. Today after work I am going to do this for myself, and use some grounding essential oils in my diffuser too. Do you have a favourite one?
Then I am going to start writing my ebook to offer help to adoptees to help them feel more comfortable in their body’s. Watch thsi space, as they say.
This Sunday just gone, 28th February, brought up a new topic, that of our body. How we inhabit our body. What we feel in our body. It is a huge topic and as I have just published a huge post entitled I Don’t Care Anymore, Or Do I? I am going to take a rain check on writing my reflections on it, as it is a huge topic which needs time and care to give it the love and attention it deseves. So forgive me for not writing my usual reflections on a Monday. I hope to get it written later today and publish tomorrow.
I hope to include some self help tips on how to feel better within your own body.
This past week I have been reliving the music of the 1980’s, especially Phil Collins. Back then Phil was separating from his wife, and you could hear the breakup in his music. Oddly enough around that time I was in “reunion” with my birth mother, Pat. The words of many of his songs summed up the angst I was going through, although at the time I didn’t recognise that. I have spent this weekend listening to one particualr song, I Don’t Care Anymore, and writing my emotions about the period of my life in the 1980’s.
“Well you can tell everyone I’m a dam disgrace. Drag my name all over the place. I don’t care anymore”
Well if you had told everyone the truth about you meeting Tom, a married man, and conceiving me, and owned your own behaviour as disgraceful, rather than trying to blame me for my reaction to your behaviour, I may have cared more.
Oh and as for dragging my name all over the place, what on earth did you think you were doing by twisting my father’s wife’s name around and blessing me with it? Bizarre bordering on borderline personality disorder if you ask me. The meanings of my name is awesome, and funnily enough I feel more connected to “Tish”. Maybe it is the energy that is in our mutual names that joins us. As for your reason behind it- I don’t care anymore, to even bother thinking about it.
“You can tell everyone about the state I’m in. You won’t catch me crying ‘cos I just can’t win. I don’t care anymore”
Turning up in my life when I was 19 certainly put me in a state. I had had a very stable upbringing thanks to Ivor and Vera and their childen. I was a cuckoo in the nest, but it was a stable one, with a sense of family and British traditions. Looking back at the colonial sense of entitlement is not great, but it is in my heritage, so I have to acknowledge them as my past. White, British, Privilege.
“I don’t care what you say. I don’t play the games you play. Cos I’ve been talking to the people that you call your friends. And it seems to me there’s a means to an end. They don’t care anymore.”
Well your funeral was certainly interesting, meeting all your friends. No wonder I wasn’t invited to all your “family occassions”. You should have seen your matron of honour’s face when I told her that your daughter and Tom’s daughter were one and the same person. They had no idea that you had met Tom in 1959, leading to my conception and birth a couple of years later. They thought your 2 daughters were separate people. And as for poor Russell. What did he find in the house in France? And what had you told him about your marriage to Tony? Did you bring it forward by a couple of years to make it look as though you were married to him when I was born? Where did Russell think I was brought up? By you and Tony? Russell wrote to me after he had been to France. He sounded confused. I tried to tell him that I had been adopted “out” not that you had adopted Marilyn. Is that how you explained her colouring, that you had adopted her? I can’t even begin to imagine the stories you must have made up to try and explain why we, your daughters didn’t go to family gatherings. Family gatherings like your wedding? Did you tell Russell that you hadn’t invited us, that you sent an Order of Service to me, 2 weeks after you got married. Or did you let him believe that we had been invited, but we chose not to go. My what games you played in your life. I was brought up to be honest and truthful. That wouldn’t work in your life would it? Having people find out your truth was never an option.
“And as for me I can sit here and bide my time. I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what you say”.
I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain if I speak my mind. Because my mind holds my honest thoughts and truths, my truths about how I feel about your behaviour and the repurcussions it has had on my life and who I have become. By speaking my mind, I have unpicked the hurt, and healed from it and embodied the name Joysmith, as somene who finds joy from going through the hard times and being fashioned into a beautiful soul, in the heat of the furnace. I bided my time, but my waiting was futile, you went to your grave holding onto your lies and secrets.
“We never played by the same rules anyway. I won’t be there anymore. Get out of my way. Let me by I got better things to do with my time. I don’t care anymore.”
My rules were truth and honesty. I had better things to do, like go travelling in an effort to find myself. Emigrating to Australia was probably one of the best things I ever did in my life. I found out who I was, got to choose where I went, where I ate, what I ate. I discovered what I liked. Who knows what would have happened in my life if I had stayed in Oz, but life events brought me back to the UK. I had to nurse myself back from my grief. I too had my secrets. I never told you about Jack did I? Maybe if you had shared your secrets with me, I would have shared mine with you and opened up about my feeling s and emotions, but you just weren’t somebody I wanted to open up to, pure and simple, I don’t care anymore.
“Well I don’t care now what they say. Cos everyday I’m feeling fine with myself. And I don’t care what you say. Hey I’ll do alright by myself”
It has taken a lot of work, a lot of tears and tantrums dealing with the brain trauma and psychological trauma that your behaviour, decisions and reactions have had on me. Holli, your grand-daughter asked me the other day that she wished that I’d sorted it all out before she was born. I wish I had too, because I do care. I do care how my behaviour effects the people around me. I do care that I used to struggle to control my anger. I care enough to work on myself, to work on my adoptee adaption behaviours. I can only pray that Holli and I can discuss it, and she can work on herself, to heal the ancestral wounds, because I care enough that they end here and that they end now. We are working through them, slowly but surely.
“Cos I remember all the times I tried so hard. And you laughed in my face ‘cos you held all the cards. I don’t care anymore.”
All I really wanted from you was some information around how you and Tom met, you know like other children know where their parents met, what music was on the radio, your first date, that sort of thing. I get it that it was possibly over the tea urn in a psychiatric hospital. I get it, I really do. But you kept that all to yourselves didn’t you? No matter how hard I tried. I admit that I am now able to voice my requests more eloquently than I could in my 20’s. Back in my mid 20’s I was in the fog. I just didn’t know that such a thing existed. Looking at Phil in the youtube video I can see the anger in his face. Mine was angry too. I am happier now, less angry, more content. I now hope to help people navigate the fog, give them a road map out of it. If you’ve ever driven in fog you’ll know exactly what I mean. Signposts need to be literally right in front of your face before you see them. I’ve even set up a facebook group the Finding Joy Community. It’s just for adoptees who are ready to start, or continue their healing from their primal wound.
“And I really ain’t bothered what you think of me, Cos all I want of you is just let me be. I don’t care anymore. D’you hear? I don’t care no more. I don’t care what you say. I never did beleive you much anyway. I won’t be there no more. So get out of my way. Let me by. I got better things to do with my time.”
I really am not bothered what you think of me, you relinquished me. I am not sure if you stopped and thought about the letter that you wrote to the social worker. I came across it in my social file after you passed. Tony Pollock wasn’t interested in any child by another man and as you hadn’t even seen me, you were going to find it easier to let me go. So forgive me if I put as much effort in trying to hold onto you, as you did into holding onto me. So I will re-iterate again. I have better things to do with my life. I have a loving wonderful husband, and a beautiful daughter, your grand-daughter. I owe it to them to be the best that I can be. And now I have an adoptee family, the Flourish Family. They got me to look at some music and I identify with Phil Collins and so many of his songs as potential adoptee anthems for disatrous reunions.
I wish that things had been different between us, I wish I had the tools that I now have, back then. Things may have been so different. I maybe could have forged a relationship with you and Tom, better than we had. My recovery and acceptance of myself would no doubt have been hastened.
I do care, I care greatly. I care what your behaviour towards me, inflicted in me. I had a whole era of not caring. I am who I am. I have worked hard on learning to care for myself.
“I don’t care anymore. D’you hear me? I don’t care anymore. I don’t care no more. You listening? I don’t care no more, no more. No More!! You know I don’t care no more! No more, No more, No more, No more, No more No more”.
I have to admit to being quite relieved when I heard the news that you had died. No more could I put myself in the position to meet you, and have you fail to turn up, without any warning, triggering the abandonment feelings and emotions all over again. I could now start to look for myself and heal from something I didn’t know existed until recently, a primal wound.
I have learnt to take care of myself, investing financially in my own mental and physical health. I have to admit to not having taken a lot of time to look after myself physically recently, spending far too much time sitting and writing and far less time stretching and doing yoga. So I will sign off here and do some self-care.
If you are looking for some help in dealing with the issues that relinquishment and adoption have on your health and life, then please consider joining us in the Finding Joy Community We are not a group that helps you find birth parents. We are interested in helping you to find yourself.
I came across a video on youtube where Dr Ramani was talking about borderline personality disorder (bpd) and how to recognise it from the 9 traits of it. Watching it I thought wow! This sounds so much like the traits of an adopted person.
There are the 9 traits according to Dr Ramani. You can listen to the full interview here.
She describes it as a disorder of instability and impulsivity. In relationships, moods and behaviour, and sense of self. OK how many adoptees reading this have already put their hands up as recognising themselves in that description?
A TREMENDOUS fear of ABANDONMENT! It cuts through the disorder. No shit Sherlock! Have you ever asked any of your clients that you are treating if they have actually been abandoned in their life, especially around day 1? Did they teach you anything at psych school about the primal wound? Have you read the Primal Wound? I totally recommend it for anyone seeing clients with what you are labelling as bpd. Have you ever asked the person that goes ape shit over someone being late for a dinner date what it’s like waiting for your mother to take you in her arms, but it never happens. Have you ever thought how a simple thing like someone turning up late could trigger that feeling. Although they cannot recall that memory, their body certainly remembers the feeling and so when they get triggered, then bam, they are reliving those feelings and emotions that they experienced at hour zero. OK rant over, I will now try and write without emotion and triggers and just write emotionless over the traits that Dr Ramani calls bpd, which I prefer to call “adoptee functioning”.
Fear of Abandonment: real or perceived. A sense of self fulfilling prophesy when someone leaves you.
Unstable and Intense inter-personal relationships. Relationships have a roller coaster feel to them.
Identity Disturbance: Doesn’t know who they are. Changes appearance, hair colouring, tattoos dress style. Multiple personality identity.
Impulsivity: Acting without thinking of consequences. Bingeing, addiction, act out in the moment. Using substances to soothe, not addressing the issue. “Don’t want to feel this way”.
Suicidal Behaviour: thoughts or attempts. Response to inner pain they cannot manage. Uses threats to keep relationships.
Affective Instability: fluctuating moods. Tidal wave of emotion, express it openly, cannot inhibit it. Over react to everything in their environment.
Chronically Feels Empty: Struggles to feel whole. A hollow shell or drum. Psychological skeleton is missing.
Inappropriate or Intense Shows of Anger: Frustrated by small things, quick to throw things, and be intense. feels everything, really really thin skin. Everyone walks on eggshells. Regretful after anger, continues the abandonment cycle, suicidal thoughts, an emotional loop.
Transient Stress Induced Paranoid Idealation: Under stress, may experience paranoid experiences. “Everyone’s out to get me” Symptoms of dis-associtation “Act like a child”
To get a diagnosis of BPD, you require 5 out of the 9 traits according to Dr Ramani. Well I don’t know about any other adoptees who are reading this, but I would say this is pretty typical behavior of someone who has experienced being relinquished at birth, and it is the way that adoptees function, rather than it being dysfunctional. If professionals understood the psychological trauma that Paul Sunderland speaks about in his Addiction and Adoption lectures, adoptees might get the right type of support that they need. Support them to help them come to terms with their relinquishment.
I am going to re-label Borderline Personality Disorder as Adoptee Adaptive Personality, caused by relinquishment and will explain my reasons in a later post.
If you recognise these behaviour traits in yourself or someone close to you, then please come and join the Finding Joy Community on Facebook. We hope to offer help in recognising these situations and how you can help yourself to come to terms with the issues that adoption can cause.