I knew I would miss my children- that was a given, but I didn’t realize how much their missing me would affect me.
As an adoptee, thinking about what my kids must be feeling stirs deeply rooted emotions of missing my birth mother. I remember how much I just wanted to know her. And now that I know that I will never know her, I have been able to move on.
But I am alive and my kids have to deal with the emotions of knowing I’m here and not with them. And it breaks me inside. The feeling that I am going to burst into a million pieces is gone. Replaced by the feeling that I AM in a million pieces and I have no fucking clue how to put them together.
Sometimes I think I’ll never be whole again. My family was my whole life. It defined me. I don’t have some great career or my own anything. I have to rely on my friends for stuff and I hate that. It makes me feel like a burden or a fucking charity case. It makes me feel weak when I am being told I am strong.
I’m being asked “what are you good at?” “What can you do?” from people who are trying to help me find work.
I was good at being a mom and a wife. That’s what I’m good at. Centering my life around my family and making sure that they were all good before I worried about me.
Now I’m here, with just me. And I feel lost. And lonely. And confused.
How did I end up here? What can I do?
Right now, I have no easy answers and all I know for sure is that I miss the hell outta my kids. I wish they could come see me here.
Just another day to spend wandering aimlessly hoping to find some direction. Hoping to find a way to get a little bit stronger and not rely on anyone for anything. Have I mentioned that I fucking hate having to rely on anyone?