MARY LORRAINE DANROTH
All your life you felt like you didn’t fit in...like someone’s keeping something from you and then you find out you were a secret all along. There really isn’t anything like it, but then you connect with the missing link...the family that was never to talk about you. You know that the puzzle piece was you all along and it was the birth family that wanted that piece back to make the puzzle whole again. Unfortunately not the birth parents though, they can’t bear that you still exist...I’m not sure what they thought would happen.
I have seen a commonality with adoptees. They seem to be very apologetic to searching for their birth family...Their roots...Their heritage. They also tend to wait quite late in life to start their search...It's seems like it is most often because they don't want to piss off their adoptive parents. They usually wait until they have passed. But unfortunately that usually means that their birth parents have passed as well. It's like a continuous circle of regret...abondonment and rejection.
I read a lot...like ‘a lot’...and when I see certain things that touch my soul I know I can’t put it on Facebook since my friends don’t want to believe what I go through as an adoptee. They want to be like the majority and tell me that I should be grateful that I was ‘chosen’. They don’t want to listen to me tell them that I was actually abandoned because that doesn’t fit into their fairytale ideals. They don’t seem to understand that I am grateful for being picked up from my abandonment. It’s frustrating growing up always thinking that if you do something wrong you can easily be abandoned again. Why wouldn’t they. My first Mother, the one that took care of me in her womb for 9 months disposed of me.
Adoption is more complicated than any non-adoptee can ever understand.
When you have to learn how to think like a psychopath you delve into a whole new crazy world. My psychiatrist informed me that I need to be like him and play the game. But be evil like him. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I know I have to and I have faith that I can do it. But fuck people are fucking stupid.
If you ever run into someone that is so super nice and charismatic that they seem too good to be true...guess what...they are probably a psychopath
In my search for my heritage I hit a roadblock...more like a dead end. My Grandmother came over to Canada when she was 3 with her mother and 1 year old sister. My Great Grandfather was already in Canada working on a farm. I have the passenger lists and the ID card. The passenger lists document the place of birth and then that’s it.
In my quest for info on Poland I discovered the gypsy heritage. I shall never give up on this search since I have always told people that I was a gypsy in my childhood. There actually might be some truth to that...
Certain things can never be forgotten. Seeing my Adoptive Father before he passed is going to be one of those painful regrets. I refuse to take full blame in this one. His son made it out to be not so bad. He said it was in his opinion...not a doctors opinion that he wouldn’t be coming out. Even though he had been in there for a month already. Then the asshole couldn’t even be bothered to tell me the day he died. He waited until the day after and I was standing in the Hospital that he told me that he was in. It wasn’t the right one.
I’ve always felt like I’ve been drowning my whole life...I finally understand it better. Anxiety can choke you...sadness can disable you...and fighting to survive can lead you to run away...
It’s becoming clearer but it’s still foggy to me. I want closure. I want to feel equal. I don’t want to be the shame of someone anymore.
My Best Friends
Scott Alan Warner
Angela Barra’s Medium
Adoptee Rights Australia
NPE and Me
The Invisible Threads