birthday #2

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My birthday was last week.
It's still a little difficult to feign happiness on that day. And I still have it hidden on most social media sites that I use in order to just avoid it.
It was only the second birthday with the knowledge that I am adopted.

I can't stop from thinking that this would have been the 36th one that my birth mother has gone through with the knowledge of being separated from me.

This past year, it feels like I keep fluctuating between just feelings of frustration, and straight up anger.

So, I started to write my thoughts that night, and here's something I wrote and shared on Instagram:

I got a papercut sometime ago. And it was annoying.
Although I was hurt, I wasn't hurt by it.
It just happened, and the pain was sharp.
Every now and then I would accidently aggravate it and the pain would come back.

I started to think about hurt vs pain.
Hurt is an unpleasant sensation. To me it has more of an emotional and psychological connotation.
Pain is just an unpleasant sensation.
It's hurt without the hurt.

Last week I had a birthday. It was the second one with this knowledge that I was lied to.
It was the first one that my APs did not wish me.
And even though I have made a conscious decision to move on and cut ties, it still affected me.

All those times they said they'd love unconditionally,
All those times they said they'd be there,
All those times,
All those lies.

It didn't hurt. But just like an aggravated papercut, I felt the pain.

The pain comes from being lied to.
That is still hardest to comprehend. I mean, who does that?
Shit, I was lied to for 34 years. THIRTY FOUR FUCKING YEARS.
I just can't understand doing that to a person.
I am not emotionally hurt by this, but I still feel pain from the anger, the trauma, the sadness, just everything about it.

It's hard to be in the present when my past is corrupted.

My younger sister called on the day to wish me. And since I'm doing what I can to move on, I have stopped asking how the adopters are doing. I simply try to ask how she is doing, and whether or not they are causing any issues for her.

She did share this with me. The adoptive mom apparently asked my sister to wish me, since she knew my sister would probably speak to me. She told her that she no longer had my number to do it herself.

Pain of an aggravated papercut.
I don't want to care about it, but it still stings.

All those times they said they'd love unconditionally,
All those times they said they'd be there,
All those times,
All those lies.

As much as they claim to love, it was not the love that I required. I believe it was simply the love they needed to give. They did the best that they wanted to.

I have come to recognize that I stopped caring about how they showed love a long time ago. What I needed was acceptance. I needed them to accept that I am/was happy with certain decisions I made in my life.
My adopters would always say "All I want is for you to be happy", yet at the same time would always tell me that nothing I did, and noone I ever accept in my life would ever be good enough.
Can't have it both ways. At some point you just have to accept that I am happy. You have to be okay with it. And if something went wrong, I didn't need the "I told you so" speech.
I still think a lot of their decisions for doing things were based on keeping the truth away from me.
It's a mind fuck just thinking about it. Because ultimately I was raised adopted.
I had the Adoptee experience without the conscious knowledge of knowing that I was adopted.

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