Depression From Adoption
I came to realize that I am in a deep hole of depression. yesterday I sank really deep, and everything was getting to me. My daughter's not sleeping properly, my indulging from the bakery and then walking home with a tired worn out baby, my husband leaving me to go to a wedding far away that we decided I would not attend because it was not my crowd... It all blew up.
I even tried taking a calm bath with her to bond, because I felt something was missing deep down and I was desperate to feel good. It was nice, but didn't work. My husband came home, and I lashed out passive aggressively, by giving up on putting my daughter to sleep and eating ice cream on my bed. I wanted to annoy him, because I blamed him for all of my troubles. I told him we were on different pages, he could not see me, and he didn't understand my feelings. He kept answering back, saying that he did see me and he understood my pain. I doubted it, and told him I felt all alone. I knew I had to get out my feelings, but they were all crowded around in me and I could not deal with them so I stayed quiet and tried to act rational. He said he was sorry, and he is there for me. I sighed with relief, and told him I was sorry for being mean to him.
I then cried, releasing the tears that were trapped in me all day, and it felt good. My baby cried too, and then watched me fascinated. Then she fell asleep because it was two hours past her usual bedtime.
The pain was still there when I woke up, but I felt lighter for getting some of it out. I was still blocked, though. I tried distracting myself by going out, and then baking a cake. But eventually, I had to look inside and transmute what was there. But I kept getting cold on myself, and criticizing my inability to "move on." That's what they always told me, move on already, what's the point of dwelling on something that happened soo long ago? All problems come from the present.
I remembered my baby's therapist thinking I was crazy for thinking that my baby has sadness that comes from feeling hurt, and not from the fact that I was being too up in her space, and I felt embarrassed of myself again.
I cried a bit, and then watched a video about adoption so I would not feel so crazy anymore. It helped, and it spoke about how there is no adoption without trauma for all those involved, and many adoptees find themselves in addictions due to their early start of being abandoned. This was true for me, and I was always addicted to love and finding *someone* to SEE me and validate who I was. But no one can do that, as Abby Miller from Worldwide Self Hypnosis says in Old Souls and Relationships, unless they know themselves first. Because unless they know their own pain they will project it onto the other person and not be able to see them.
It all suddenly made sense, and I had to face what happened to me. Because until I do that, I will blame myself and feel shame for how I was altered in personality due to what happened to me.
Paul Sunderland, in Adoption and Addiction, says that adoptees get used to the self they had to become as babies adapting to the trauma, that they forget that it is not really them.
I didn't realize this had happened, but I read somewhere that when adoptees meet their birth family it can open up old wounds of pain. This must have happened to me subconsciously when I spoke to my birth parents earlier this week. I was left feeling more confused about my identity.
Now I want to visit them, and take away a physical memory from it that I can hold onto.
So long,
An Adoptee Heart
I even tried taking a calm bath with her to bond, because I felt something was missing deep down and I was desperate to feel good. It was nice, but didn't work. My husband came home, and I lashed out passive aggressively, by giving up on putting my daughter to sleep and eating ice cream on my bed. I wanted to annoy him, because I blamed him for all of my troubles. I told him we were on different pages, he could not see me, and he didn't understand my feelings. He kept answering back, saying that he did see me and he understood my pain. I doubted it, and told him I felt all alone. I knew I had to get out my feelings, but they were all crowded around in me and I could not deal with them so I stayed quiet and tried to act rational. He said he was sorry, and he is there for me. I sighed with relief, and told him I was sorry for being mean to him.
I then cried, releasing the tears that were trapped in me all day, and it felt good. My baby cried too, and then watched me fascinated. Then she fell asleep because it was two hours past her usual bedtime.
The pain was still there when I woke up, but I felt lighter for getting some of it out. I was still blocked, though. I tried distracting myself by going out, and then baking a cake. But eventually, I had to look inside and transmute what was there. But I kept getting cold on myself, and criticizing my inability to "move on." That's what they always told me, move on already, what's the point of dwelling on something that happened soo long ago? All problems come from the present.
I remembered my baby's therapist thinking I was crazy for thinking that my baby has sadness that comes from feeling hurt, and not from the fact that I was being too up in her space, and I felt embarrassed of myself again.
I cried a bit, and then watched a video about adoption so I would not feel so crazy anymore. It helped, and it spoke about how there is no adoption without trauma for all those involved, and many adoptees find themselves in addictions due to their early start of being abandoned. This was true for me, and I was always addicted to love and finding *someone* to SEE me and validate who I was. But no one can do that, as Abby Miller from Worldwide Self Hypnosis says in Old Souls and Relationships, unless they know themselves first. Because unless they know their own pain they will project it onto the other person and not be able to see them.
It all suddenly made sense, and I had to face what happened to me. Because until I do that, I will blame myself and feel shame for how I was altered in personality due to what happened to me.
Paul Sunderland, in Adoption and Addiction, says that adoptees get used to the self they had to become as babies adapting to the trauma, that they forget that it is not really them.
I didn't realize this had happened, but I read somewhere that when adoptees meet their birth family it can open up old wounds of pain. This must have happened to me subconsciously when I spoke to my birth parents earlier this week. I was left feeling more confused about my identity.
Now I want to visit them, and take away a physical memory from it that I can hold onto.
So long,
An Adoptee Heart
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