Your personal Tumblr library awaits
Vent post not something I usually do but I can't really talk about it with my family so I might as well jettison it out into the gaping maw of the internet.
I'm... happy to be adopted. I really truly am. I'm lucky to have the second chance at life I was given even if it came with its own issues. I'm painfully aware of how easily I could have become a statistic. I don't miss my blood family at all and they certainly don't miss me.
It doesn't mean I don't wish I could have someone to ask questions. Finding diagnosis for my mental health, being in and out of all kinds of therapy, being asked over and over again if there's any genetic history of mental disorders. I can't answer that. I couldn't tell you. My half brother had adhd and went off his meds before I was born. My mother claimed she had bipolar disorder once upon a time. But I have to take that with a grain of salt because I couldn't tell anyone if that was the excuse to hide the symptoms of her drug addiction or if the drug addiction was a symptom of her trying to self medicate her bipolar disorder.
How do you explain that the signs of a family at full mental decay are there but you're so far removed, that the situations of your childhood and the existing structure of your entire blood family are so toxic you couldn't tell a rumor or an insult from the truth?
My adoptive family has pictures dating back to the Victorian era. Thousands of beautiful connections to their family history. Windows into where what came from. Who passed down the nose or the eyes or the smile. I look at them and the history I was taken into but not apart of and I just.
I can only say that I grew up starving, digging through trash for food, that I am missing chunks from my childhood memories that speak of horrors I don't know whether to be grateful not to remember or devastated to be left with the symptoms and no root cause to address. I grew up not so much raising myself but trying to survive in the most basic ways. I just.
I want to know what's wrong with me so I can help myself in the ways those around me failed to do. I want to get it under control I want to understand what's wrong before I somehow end up in the same cycle I've tried desperately to escape for years. I want to be better than the blood running through my veins.