MARY LORRAINE DANROTH
I realize that I can’t fault my adoptive father for shutting me out completely. I know how he could only have room in his heart and life for one person at a time and after mom died he only had his son living close to him. I let him have him. After my brother molested me I didn’t fully understand how or why it happened but I feel like I get it now. He was 4 years older than I was and when my parents decided they wanted a baby girl I took all the love and attention away from him that he was used to getting. The best way for him to put me in my place and remind me that I wasn’t Family was to molest me. It worked. I knew my place from that moment on. I struggled with it. I fought with it. I rebelled through it. I made sure everyone knew I didn’t belong. Just as my brother wanted. Not what I wanted but felt that I had no choice. If I said anything then I’m sure they would’ve gotten rid of me.
I’m a little mad that I didn’t get to see my father before he died but at least I know that karma is coming for my brother. He’s all alone now. No wife. No girlfriend. No children.
I have a big project ahead of me. I have to clean out the house that is filled with some of my happier memories. I did not grow up in this house so I don’t have to deal with the bad shit so much. I just have to make sure my brother doesn’t think he’s going to be there at the same time. I can give him forgiveness in my heart and soul but I cannot let him know. I feel that he can live with it. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the full capacity of compassion or understanding to receive any forgiveness from me.
and now we drink the wine...
On January 17th. my adoptive fathers son called to tell me that in his opinion our father would not be coming out of the hospital. My husband and I went to see him in the hospital on January 27th. As we were walking in the doors of the hospital my brother called. He said my father was dead. He had passed on about noon the day before. I am thankful my husband was there and that there were seats at the door.
We had to go get the key from him so that we could get into the house and assess what I wanted and needed to do. I was definitely in a state of panic as we got closer to his house. He came out to the drivers side of the truck and asked if he could come to my side. I said no, not right now. He kept apologizing and saying that if he could take it all back he would. He said he was going to fix up his property and put all the money from that sale and any inheritance into a trust for all the people he has hurt. I didn’t know he hurt more people than me. I am sad for them. I know their pain.
I am finally realizing that I’m glad that the birth family wants nothing to do with me...it’s not that it’s me that they want nothing to do with. It’s because they are really bad people. Sadly some of them are good but they don’t know about me. The ones that do know about me have made it perfectly clear how two sided they are. They talk the talk but refuse to walk the walk.
This is mostly about my sister who seems to think that she is a caring person and that she can help people that are suicidal. She really doesn’t get it and she refuses to learn about suicide obviously. I reached out to her for help and she shut me out.
people say that I should move on and get over it. The one thing they don’t think about is that the two people that were supposed to protect me from the boogie man, didn’t. And if they couldn’t or wouldn’t then how am I supposed to move on and get over it. How am I supposed to feel like anyone cares about me.
I realized early this morning that my children suffer right along with me on this gratefulness of adoption. I have always had a hard time bonding with them...and everyone for that matter. But it’s sad that I still can’t hug them even after I found my birth family. It makes me wonder if it’s because I was once again rejected by my birth mother, my brothers, my sisters, and my aunts and uncles. I hope that one day it will all be ok and I can let them into my bubble. It was fine when they were newborns and toddlers but then it just hit me that they didn’t need me anymore...I guess that’s the key...the fact that my birth family didn’t need me either...not sure if I will ever get the closer for that nightmare but I sure hope so. It seems like that’s where it all began...the beginning of my end.
When I think of the way I use to think about when someone would die, and someone else would go on and on about how sad they are, and then I would think ‘but you hardly knew them’...I’m actually scared people think that about me now. I may have just found my birth family but when I see them, even for the first time, I feel so much love. It’s amazing how connected I am to them. I’m not sure if they have the same reaction since they have always had connections. Birth family to love and be loved back. This is new to me, but I love the feeling I get from it.
Something I noticed today...I want a sister...I watched my birth mothers cousins with their sisters at the funeral today...and I watched my Great Aunt mourn her sister today. I heard a story about 2 sisters going on a road trip together, driving in the dark, the fog and quite possibly a field...I want that...
Although I did acquire a first cousin once removed that’s more like a big brother to me...love him to bits❤️
They’ve known about me for 5 months and they think they’re stressed...I’ve known about me for 50 years, how stressed do you think I feel? I’ve had to go through every emotion known to mankind far longer than them. 600 months as opposed to 5...they never had to experience the loss that I’ve had to...yet they think they’re hurting more than me. They have no idea what the rejection feels like...they all had their mother and father in their life. The woman that carried them in the womb for 9 months is the same woman that rocked them, coddled them, loved them from their first breath of life. They cried she held them...I cried I stayed alone...who do you think suffered more?
It’s been a bit of week to say the least. My Great Aunt Grace passed on Tuesday. My adoptive parents son called Wednesday night. My group counselling involved me, 2 women councillors and 3 men on Thursday night. One on one therapy this morning. And the pièce de résistance was the reading of the will tonight! I have to say that having my adoptive father send me the copy of the will after my adoptive mother passed 8 years ago completely threw me for a loop. I don’t remember reading it when I received it but I deciphered it tonight! For once I feel as though my adoptive father cared about me...
My Best Friends
Scott Alan Warner
Angela Barra’s Medium
Adoptee Rights Australia
NPE and Me
The Invisible Threads