Unwholesomeness

"Why is it that you have the say-so in every situation, from birth onward, and I am left without a choice or a voice?
Why is it that you have sent me into exile in order to prevent yourself from having to go into exile?
Why is it that you let me sit here without what I need to be whole?
Why have I been more concerned about the well-being of you, dear birth mother, than I have for my own well-being?
Why is my reason for wanting to find you borne out of worry for you - I want to assure you that I am fine so you don't have to worry about me?
Why is it that I give you so much power, such control?
Why is it that I have often been angry at God for screwing up my life by making me an adoptee, when in reality, he removed me from your life for my own emotional protection?
Why am I willing to carry your pain for a lifetime by letting you have the say-so in every situation?
Why?
Why is it so?
Will someone please tell me?"

I make these words mine.
A letter from an adult adoptee to her birth mother extracted from the book "Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew" by Sherrie Eldridge.

Through the window of her own self

Looking at life through a lens of rejection, expecting it at every turn.

"Grieve not" A poem by Haseeb

Skepticism has been her life, and it looks like it will be a nightmare, or maybe a little treasure, until the end. Can't she look at a different direction? So many different persons, or many different things that she can't help it but try to discover each one of them: an expedition into herself. But the more she tries, the more it seems to be farther away. The only vision she gets is a glimpse through a dusty window with pictures of her soul flying away. Two forces pulling into different directions. Each one seems to be stronger, that way they are always even, always on the same place. A triangle within other triangles. An illusion formed by mirrors inside her own eyes.


A gift!?! Who said it is a gift? It made her become a dormant monster who deserves nothing  and nobody.


She builds walls around herself to keep others at bay -- walls of perfectionism, achievement and self-sufficiency. What she wants and needs most, she often resists. She is  master at keeping that vulnerable place within herself concealed... beneath the surface there is depression, rage, confusion about identity, fear of loss, and shame. If she doesn't grieve her loss, the ability to receive love or attach emotionally in meaningful relationships may be seriously hindered. 


How should she grieve??

Cicatrizes

Você diz que me ama, que me amou, que me amava, mas não se tornou real em suas ações.

Você ficou feliz de poder ser livre, já que não precisaria mais dar satisfação a ninguém. 

Você se atrasou por simples falta de determinação, pois eu já era responsável.

Você se contentou com o pouco, pois melhor assim do que ter que fazer mais.

Você procurou outra logo depois. 

Você me usou como objeto sexual.

Você não me cuidou, não cultivou a amizade.

Você me deixou sozinha.

Você disse que sexo era mais importante e que isso era necessário à sua sobrevivência.

Você me abusou emocionalmente e fisicamente.

Você se aproveitou da vulnerabilidade e inocência.

Eu somente queria ser o melhor pra você, assim caí em suas teias venenosas.