Overwhelming pain From my "Sweet Spot" of dealing with Supressed Feelings
It happened again. I fell into a bout of depression and extreme nerves. I was soo happy yesterday, and last night. I was on my peak of self-belief and happiness. But this morning the pressure of the day got to me.
My 10 month old baby showed extreme signs of sadness, and I could not give her comfort at the moment because I was wrapped up in something I found important. Suddenly, my heart sank into my stomach and I felt I could NOT do this aware parenting. It was WAY TOO HARD. How could one mother help her baby with all the feelings? Especially when she had her traumatic birth, and I had spent her first nine months suppressing her cries with a pacifier, and she just had my DNA so she must be always as confused and sad as I am. It shattered me completely, and I felt helpless. I listened to her crying and raging in small doses, and watched that when I put her down she clammed up and acted silly, but then when I held her to me again she shrieked in even more distress. So I sighed and felt like I was just ruining her more and more, and she would NEVER be HAPPY and able to HANDLE her life! It freaked me out.
And then, as I listened to her cries and whining, I was aware of my own intolerance of them. I realized that when I felt tolerable of them, things seemed easier and more in control and life flowed. But I just couldn't, and I had to ask myself what was behind that.
And I realized my own angry screaming inside was still on. I was still angry, hurt and repressed by all those around me who raised me to believe that emotions were trivial. All those who ignored their own sadness and pain, and just focused on getting the job of raising us done. And when we raged, they raged back and punished it. So anger was terrible. And I still need it to be seen.
This was a sweet spot, as Marion Rose describes in her website. When a parent has an overwhelming feeling that does not allow them to see their child's feeling.
Well, this was done to me my whole life. My mother never let me see my feelings, because she shamed them.
I am so angry. I will have to cut her out of my life for a while. Just yesterday, she told me I was too angry to make friends. As if I was a bad person. I could not hear it objectively. She has no right to tell me what I can't do, because she just wants me to change into who she wants to see. And that is not the real me.
Codependents, as I told my husband, do not let you have your own feelings if they don't match what they feel must be reality.
As I was watching Losing Isaiah, a movie about a mom who had to give up her baby because of drugs and a white woman adopted him, only to have the original mom take him back when he was 5, and he threw tantrums because of leaving his white mom, it struck me that each mother was selfish in her pain of losing him that they didn't real understand that he was so broken at each abandonment.
It made me cry like a fountain, because of how attached a child gets to each attachment he makes. Kids are so innocent, they need love and that is all. So when he left his white mom, he was soo sad, and I resonated soo much. Although I am so angry at my adoptive mother, I can realize that I if something would have happened to her when I was a kid I would have felt broken.
But right now, I just don't really care about her. I am so numb to what she caused happen to me, that I am in selfish mode of finally looking at my grief. I lost my identity, and I was living on survival mode all my life. Probably like Isaiah was too, as he was clinging to his white mom because she was all he knew. But something inside him must have felt broken, like a torn ligament, because his first mother abandoned him as a baby.
So I cried, and cried for all those people who each had their own tremendous loss.
And I wonder how all the people in my life are so codependent that they cannot open their eyes to their subjective pain and start seeing other's pain too.
And I realize that the more I embrace my trauma, the more I can see objectively that my baby daughter needs me more than anything and I can make an impact on her through my holding and listening to her story. It is not so overwhelming anymore.
Sadly,
An Adoptee Heart
My 10 month old baby showed extreme signs of sadness, and I could not give her comfort at the moment because I was wrapped up in something I found important. Suddenly, my heart sank into my stomach and I felt I could NOT do this aware parenting. It was WAY TOO HARD. How could one mother help her baby with all the feelings? Especially when she had her traumatic birth, and I had spent her first nine months suppressing her cries with a pacifier, and she just had my DNA so she must be always as confused and sad as I am. It shattered me completely, and I felt helpless. I listened to her crying and raging in small doses, and watched that when I put her down she clammed up and acted silly, but then when I held her to me again she shrieked in even more distress. So I sighed and felt like I was just ruining her more and more, and she would NEVER be HAPPY and able to HANDLE her life! It freaked me out.
And then, as I listened to her cries and whining, I was aware of my own intolerance of them. I realized that when I felt tolerable of them, things seemed easier and more in control and life flowed. But I just couldn't, and I had to ask myself what was behind that.
And I realized my own angry screaming inside was still on. I was still angry, hurt and repressed by all those around me who raised me to believe that emotions were trivial. All those who ignored their own sadness and pain, and just focused on getting the job of raising us done. And when we raged, they raged back and punished it. So anger was terrible. And I still need it to be seen.
This was a sweet spot, as Marion Rose describes in her website. When a parent has an overwhelming feeling that does not allow them to see their child's feeling.
Well, this was done to me my whole life. My mother never let me see my feelings, because she shamed them.
I am so angry. I will have to cut her out of my life for a while. Just yesterday, she told me I was too angry to make friends. As if I was a bad person. I could not hear it objectively. She has no right to tell me what I can't do, because she just wants me to change into who she wants to see. And that is not the real me.
Codependents, as I told my husband, do not let you have your own feelings if they don't match what they feel must be reality.
As I was watching Losing Isaiah, a movie about a mom who had to give up her baby because of drugs and a white woman adopted him, only to have the original mom take him back when he was 5, and he threw tantrums because of leaving his white mom, it struck me that each mother was selfish in her pain of losing him that they didn't real understand that he was so broken at each abandonment.
It made me cry like a fountain, because of how attached a child gets to each attachment he makes. Kids are so innocent, they need love and that is all. So when he left his white mom, he was soo sad, and I resonated soo much. Although I am so angry at my adoptive mother, I can realize that I if something would have happened to her when I was a kid I would have felt broken.
But right now, I just don't really care about her. I am so numb to what she caused happen to me, that I am in selfish mode of finally looking at my grief. I lost my identity, and I was living on survival mode all my life. Probably like Isaiah was too, as he was clinging to his white mom because she was all he knew. But something inside him must have felt broken, like a torn ligament, because his first mother abandoned him as a baby.
So I cried, and cried for all those people who each had their own tremendous loss.
And I wonder how all the people in my life are so codependent that they cannot open their eyes to their subjective pain and start seeing other's pain too.
And I realize that the more I embrace my trauma, the more I can see objectively that my baby daughter needs me more than anything and I can make an impact on her through my holding and listening to her story. It is not so overwhelming anymore.
Sadly,
An Adoptee Heart
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