Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Traumatizing Y'all Too


Eating a large, cooked from scratch supper at 4:30 p.m., just means everyone is hungry again by 7:30 which translates into me doing the dishes until nine each night. As I drove folks from football practice to soccer camp and home again, I took a picture, more of Martin's snack than of him. The size of his after dinner snack was more than I'd eaten for several days.

Under severe stress, all food feels like shards of glass in my stomach, it's just better for me to not even try and eat.

When I've not had a chance to blog, this time due to a Wednesday morning therapy session at Dr. Mandy's office, my now traumatized readers call, text and email me. See what I've done to you? Conditioned to expect a first thing in the morning post, here I am now on my fifth year of consistency, if I fail to do so, you automatically fear something is wrong, since that too often has truly been the case. Sorry 'bout that.

Bart blogged about his mis-treatment as an adoptive parent over the years in court sessions, Sharon today asked where she failed. HUH? Girlfriend, you did NOT fail. You taught, they refused to comply. Brenda, The Adoption Counselor, explains here experiences that are similar to my own, like yours as well, the misunderstood life of an adoptive parent.

Does a bus driver get fingers pointed at them if an assault occurs in the back of their bus? Do teachers get blamed when it happens in their classroom? Are store employees held responsible for what sex offenders do in their restrooms?

Why are adoptive parents blamed when children arrive in their home after years of documented abuse and neglect...and then these children commit crimes? Do you honestly think we taught them that? Were we not completely investigated during our various home study processes? Do folks think we've chosen to be lied to and about, stolen from, assaulted, injured and violated?

It's not just because I am single. I get emails, oh boy do I hear from you all, and truthfully I wish I'd saved every single one in a file. Someday I hope to change laws and policies. I know of adoptive fathers who've been attacked, ruined and falsely accused, mothers left to carry on alone, fearful and beat down. Post adoption services? Non-existent honestly. Not any service that will physically protect you.

If you die? Oh well.

I am so angry and upset that I can barely type.

I see Dr. Mandy as well, knowing I need outside help too. I confide in several well-trusted professionals, I seek help and resources, yet remain dumbfounded even after all these years. My life is so upside down that even though I'm confident I was very well educated, I have to ask Dr. Mandy if my own feelings are valid. Well yeah, I thought they were...just checking.

I just wanna be Aunt Bea, wearing an apron and canning my tomatoes, dispensing hugs, cooking supper, and reading to my dear children.

I don't want to fear a broken hip from preventing a fistfight from a kid who does not want to do homework, nor do I want to shake like a leaf over threats and events.

When my children come home after school I put on my happy face, doting on those who can handle it, tiptoeing around those who can't. I'll get most of them to church youth group tonight and some to soccer camp. I'll sign agendas, listen to Nando's reading program, check Tabby's folder, feed the hens, freeze some more tomatoes, and continue painting, as the repetitious act of using the brush is immensely soothing to my terribly fractured, torn up emotions.

We're going with the John Deere theme in that room.

Mandy did reassure me that my emotions are valid and normal, she explains processes to me from my children's viewpoint, she helps me to cope.

She reads my blog, so does DJJ, my former caseworkers, many teachers, and others who I beg constantly for their insight, theories and suggestions.

Where are the answers? Solutions?