Wednesday, November 11, 2009

raw


Were wounds so old, ever so raw…

* * *

It would seem that one never quite recovers from that first loss.

We must endure a severance of that which was never intended to be severed.

So, almost as though we believe there is no other way, we spend the remainder of our lives dropping pieces of ourselves as we choose to leave or to be left—convinced that there is no hope of ever being whole again.

* * *

I see it over and over again among adoptees—a pattern of being left and leaving. It is as though we cannot but repeat that which was done to us.

We cannot live life without wounding ourselves and wounding those who surround us—time and time again.

It is as though the abandonment has become a part of our blood, our flesh so that it begins to trickle out into everything and everyone we touch.

* * *

Nothing seems able to satiate the persistent emptiness and loneliness, the ravenous depth of insecurity and uncertainty that tells me the world will always choose to leave me behind.

* * *

Body convulsing and mouth quivering, the words were choking in my throat.

Please, don’t ever leave me.

And how does one ever convince someone like me that he or she will not leave?

It is not his or her fault nor within his or her control that I am consumed by such a fear. And yet, how can a human being ever make such a promise without telling some form of a grey lie, wrapped in a thin veil of good intentions.

I know you’ll say that you will never leave me. And you would be the first to ever utter such a commitment, such a vow.

To this day, you have kept your word.

This makes me cry. This will always make me cry.

But these are the kind of tears that taste sweet, and those without which I hope I will never have to live.


6 comments:

Melissa said...

"Please, don’t ever leave me."
My little lady just uttered those words the other night while she slept in bed with us. Her cheek pressing against mine as a she placed a choke hold around my neck for quite sometime.
Reading your posts help me to have the the heart of a mother who raised an amazing son...she is quoted as "treasuring these things in her heart." This is who she is and who she will always be; I will always be grateful to Abby for introducing us...you, my friend have made me a better mom and friend!

Mia_h_n said...

I, too, feel the fundamental insecurity and almost expectance (I know that's not a word, but hopefully you'll catch my drift) of being left behind, alone and for good. By husband, family, friends and strangers.

In my case though, it doesn't cause me to be the one who cuts people off and out, but only to kling on to every little spec of kindness like a desperate, hungry leech.
So I sit quivering in my little mental corner, whispering to myself "please, don't leave, please, don't leave..."

I try not to take it out on people, but it can be difficult not to "test" people's claimed affaction for me, and my hat's off to my hubby! I'm not sure, I'd have the strength to cope with me...

I'm here for you (forever ;))

Melissa said...

Melissa...I share your gratitude for Abby for introducing us :) Maybe one day all of us will actually get to see each other face to face!

Melissa said...

Mia, my friend, I am here for you [forever] also! And I also can completely relate to the whole "testing" behavior. Just ask my husband...

You wrote: "...my hat's off to my hubby! I'm not sure, I'd have the strength to cope with me..."

I share the same sentiment about my husband.

Anonymous said...

It always makes me cry too when I finally feel in my heart that someone is true to their word or "proves" that they love me. It's like the impossible just happened. But then sometimes, when the trust and faith are there, I then, have no idea how to act or make them "stay". I feel like I have to do something so they won't think about leaving. That's how I used to feel and still do, but I've gotten a little better at getting rid of the nerves that go with it. The thoughts that go along with abandonment are still there, but the nerves, the fear, the angst, is slowly becoming something that I can control. I'm sure it will come and go, maybe. But it's a process that I consciously apply. I've even been working on my thoughts that go along with the fear. Like, "the proof is that they're still here, right? So, they will stay. They do love me. They may not always act like it, but they do." and then I don't feel so worried that they'll give up on me and leave. I'm not sure if that would work for you or if you've tried that, but I see you're in so much pain and wanted to offer a way that I've dealt with my adoption issues. Of course, I haven't met my parents or family yet, so I can only imagine the can of worms that will open, but I've learned that at the root of adoption, it's a feeling of a lack of control. A MAJOR lack of control over almost everything. and if you can take the final control in how you respond to it,9the acto of abandonment) then it is a step in beginning to not being a victim to your circumstances,which is how I had to start thinking. I was so miserable and felt so alone and scared. I started getting angry at how I was reacting to my abandonment, a situation that was completely out of my control. Abandonment burdened me with all these feelings of fear, isolation, and sadness (to name a few)my whole life! i just wanted to stop feeling that way, so I decided I would NOT let that ONE situation ruin my whole life, because that what it was doing. I hope this doesn't come across I just want you to know that there is another way to look at abandonment. And I know there are many nerve endings that attach itself to the feeling of abandonment, and by no means am I "cured", but maybe it has helped to fill the whole that may never completely heal. Just my thoughts. I'm grateful you have this blog so I can share my experience with you and see other people out there like me!:)

Melissa said...

Anonymous, thank you for what you shared. I greatly value your honesty and concern.

Not to worry, though. I often share the very "raw" and perhaps the somewhat more emotionally uncomfortable or disconcerting things on my blog. Be assured that as much pain as I express, so also do I experience as much healing. I just often don't share those aspects of things, simply because it is my personal opinion that the pain of adoption is often what gets neglected and needs expression...So, often I choose to share the more vulnerable emotions and experiences so that others may know that they are not alone and that it's "natural and normal" to feel such things and that such feelings need not be feared or buried...

Each adoptee much discover the ways of coping and overcoming that suits him or her, which for me personally includes letting myself feel ALL of what I experience...even the deepest of pains...

I believe a big part of healing and becoming whole is letting oneself go through the pain and experiencing it in full. When I share my deepest pain with those whom I can trust, it is then that I feel love to its fullest extent...

We need not fear our fears, but rather face them. It is then we can grasp that they need not crush us. And even though they may come true at times, it need not be the end of us.

I have lost friends and loved ones over the years--people have left me and rejected me, but not because I am an adoptee or because my greatest fear was destined to come true again and again, but simply because human nature is imperfect. Even if I was not an adoptee I would have experienced such losses. Unfortunately such experiences are common to the human experience. People will disappoint not because cynicism is the ultimate truth, but simply because human nature is imperfect.

Acknowledging that people will fail, that there are those who I will lose and will be lost helps me to heal and to realize that ultimately human nature is beyond my control.

The only thing I can decide is how I will respond. I choose to feel. Every awful pain, every lovely joy.

A favorite quote of mine in all it melancholy yet hope:

"Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." Aeschylus