The Truth Hurts, But Denial’s What Will Kill You
As you may be aware, I didn’t post last Saturday, and this post was meant for Tuesday, but is coming a bit late. Reasons being that I’ve had a lot to process in that time. I have been suffering from a greater amount of depression, and I tend to close up shop when that happens. Pretty sure that’s how it works for most people when they are depressed. I say this mainly to let you know that this post is basically going to be two posts in one (so yes there will be two songs). And will be pretty long. So grab your favorite sipping drink, a bowl of popcorn and settle in folks, because the show is starting.
Many commented on my post last Tuesday that the relationship between adoptive families and birth families takes a lot of time and effort on both parts. And in these early stages it is a very difficult path to walk down. Mistakes can be made on both sides very easily. Well last Tuesday that is exactly what happened. Both sides made a mistake. The mistake being that we both failed to communicate with the other side of the equation.
When this happened for me a thought that I had been having became more dominant in my minds eye. I had been thinking about pulling out of the adoption. Not blocking it (I could never do that to the adoptive family, I care about them too much), but deciding to not be involved anymore. I was feeling like I wasn’t really wanted, and that I didn’t matter to any involved. And I posted about it, instead of talking to the other people involved. Well by the time Friday came around this thought was consuming my thoughts pretty much all day. I was working with my cousin whose opinion I value very much, and decided I would ask for his input before I made my decision.
I just asked if he thought it would be better for me to pull out, or matter at all. His answer was very honest and sincere. The guy has known me since I was born, so I think he might know a thing or two about who I am and how I operate. This is what he told me (paraphrased). “Benjamin, you know I think it might make it easier for you to handle now, but in the long run I think you would regret it. I think you would regret not going through those hard things and having those experiences to help you later on. You would regret not holding your daughter, and closing the relationship with the adoptive family”. A wise man, a wise man indeed.
After getting his input on the whole thing I decided I to talk to the adoptive family and express my concerns and feelings. So we set up a time to talk the next day. I find it funny because when I talked to my cousin about it he said that when I talk to them I shouldn’t just jump into the heavy stuff, and try to just find a way into the subject. Well it didn’t really happen that way at all. We sort of did the usual thing you do when starting a conversation with someone. The “how are you”s and the “what’s new?”s came and it felt to me like after that the conversation basically died haha. So I just got down to it, and told them why I was calling. That what had happened on Tuesday had really REALLY hurt me, even though I knew that they had never meant for it to. We all acknowledged that we felt like we were walking on egg shells. How unhealthy is that!? You can’t expect for a friendship to work if one or both parties is not being themselves. A relationship grown in dishonesty can only bear fruit of failure.
It was a good conversation all in all. It provided a lot of clarity that I was looking for, and hopefully some that they might have been seeking as well. Opening the lines for communication helped a lot. To not feel pressured to act a certain way, or feel like you can’t say certain things. And I’m glad that they were able to express their feelings to me as well. And hopefully I will remember that I CAN talk to them if needed.
Now for the intermission.
This Is Goodbye This Is The End
Two words, therapy.
I wish I didn’t feel as deeply as I do sometimes; that it were easier for me to mourn loss. I have been avoiding the fact that I am in fact not just dealing with placing my daughter. But that I’m also mourning the loss of someone I loved very dearly.
My case worker has said it, my sister has said it, and even Darling’s adoptive parents have said it. I’m mourning losing the birthmother. I have been fighting admitting that it is true for months now; since before I ever started my blog or even joining adoptive support sites. A few days ago I went through all the text messages that we have sent back and forth on my phone. All the way back to when I first got the new phone back in October, and before we knew she was pregnant.
It was painful; it took me three hours to read them all. The main reason I think it hurt so much was because I looked at the wonderful things we said to one another, and then think of the fact that we no longer have any relationship. It has made me feel like I’m a failure as a potential husband for anyone at all; like I’ll never be good enough. I loved her so much that it still hurts to try and think about when we were together.
A few days before I looked through all the messages we sent one another, I had a realization. That we never would have worked out at all, no matter how much I tried, or how much I wanted it to. Even if we had stopped during the act, or even if we hadn’t stopped and she hadn’t gotten pregnant at all. We still wouldn’t have been able to save the relationship. And boy did I want it to work. She is one of the sweetest, and most attractive people I have ever dated. And my fear is that I will never be able to find someone like her again. That I will compare all the women I date to her and they won’t add up. I fear I won’t be able to find someone I get along with the way we did when we first started dating. And fact is that I just don’t know how to get past it right now.
I miss that girl that I fell in love with. I miss the way she would stick her tongue out just a little after she giggled. I hate the fact that my last memory of her voice is in an upset tone, instead of the sweet voice that she really has. I miss being able to have someone to hug and hold me when I’m upset. I miss holding her small hand in mine. I miss having a best friend to talk to and share excitement with all the time. I miss feeling like someone wants me in their life forever. I miss her the way she was before all this changed us both.
I wish that we could go back to that fantasy we had and just stay there. I wish I could feel like I’m in love again. I wish that I could feel like someday I will be again. I know I’ll move on at some point, and I’ll have that fire to find someone again. But I’m just not ready for it yet. I’m not ready to put myself on the cutting board at another person’s mercy. I know this all sounds pathetic, and maybe I am wallowing here. But the truth here is that my heart is broken.