I've been trying to stop
2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to
Tonight Suz had another great post. She put much of what I feel regarding Christopher's birthday into writing:
"It is a strange feeling, this straddling two worlds. In World One I am a mother that is recognized and in World Two I am not. I exist in both worlds and yet I feel incomplete in each one simultaneously.
...I reflected on that today as I thought about mothers like me often have the reverse problem, or perhaps the same problem, only slightly in reverse. We are also wiped away, disappeared at the time of separation. We go on, in many cases, as we once were. We suppress the memory of our child and we go along with the great charade of society and pretend we are not a mother. Then one day, upon reunion, whether it be our doing or forced upon us, some person tells us that person that we denied DOES exist and damn, they want to know that person....
...Other mothers like me, we embrace that existence, but really, we don’t know how to live that life, particularly when so many continue to deny it. It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of. Multiple personalities. Dissociation.
Sure, my mother and my sister and my friends acknowledged me today, but did my daughter? No. Do her parents? No. Does society? No. So where do I go?
I guess I'm hoping that by getting all of this out here, I can get rid of this nagging desire to write to Christopher. To say more than I should. Another catch-22 ~ so much I wish he could know, that I pray that he never finds out.
I have avoided writing too much here on my blog because I'm still scared that Christopher may find it somehow. I don't want him to know how much I hurt. I don't want to scare him away. It's not his fault, I don't want him taking my pain onto himself. All of this pain and loss from one bad decision made when I was barely 15 years old. Seems like an awful high price to pay...
Why can't society see the deep scars left by adoption?
I think that his job has him only an hour away again this week. So close... So far away...
It is the stuff psychological disorders are made of.