My parents remained married, and there was never any kind of neglect.
This is fairly common for many adopteesadoption isnt cheap, so many adoptees go to families of privilege.
I didn’t suffer any major traumas within my adoptive family, or in general growing up.
Verywell / Madelyn Goodnight
I receive monthlyketamine infusionsfor mytreatment-resistant depression.
Adoption, it would seem, treated me well.
Loving parents who cared for me the best they knew how, never wanting for love or anything material.
If you are having suicidal thoughts, contact theNational Suicide Prevention Lifelineat988for support and assistance from a trained counselor.
If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call 911.
For more mental health resources, see ourNational Helpline Database.
But what if its somewhere in between?
Growing up hashtag blessed doesnt erase the trauma of being removed from my birthmother almost immediately after birth.
I didnt understand this until I was older, butour body stores trauma.
My head frequently aches under the pressure I feel to prove that Im not abandonable.
But what if its somewhere in between?
Mytherapistsays I go searching, and shes right.
Theres not some big secret trauma Im missing.
Theres not one particular reason that validates my pain.
Intellectually, I do know and believe that my birthmother made the right decision for both me and herself.
Its both never enough, and I freeze up, already anticipating it leaving.
Indignant, I said, Um, no, Im OK with you leaving.
I mean, Im an adult, and now a therapist myself!
I know a therapy session ends after 50 minutes.
I know I will see her next week.
Myconsciouswas OK with her leaving.
The women on my moms side of the family all have self-described bad feet.
They are prone to bunions, to corns, to myriad ailments of the feet.
I remember looking on, envious, in a way that I didnt fit in there.
Raised Italian and Irish, but biologically Swedish.
(I know these are privileges, too.
Myconsciouswas OK with her leaving.
Telling an adoptee that you dont think of them as adopted is a knife that cuts both ways.
In 2017, my adoptive mother died, and it destroyed me.
My closest attachment and connection in the world, yanked away from me.
She was my ambassador to our family.
Telling an adoptee that you ‘dont think of them as adopted’ is a knife that cuts both ways.
When she died, it was like I was marooned just outside the family but couldnt get back inside.
I know their lives arent perfect, but I see those deep ties, whereas I feel alone.
Our bodies and brains yearn for homeostasis and the familiar.
If abandonment is what you know, it becomes comfortable, and self-abandonment is something you could control.
Its up to me to take those tools from them and paint my own life.
2013;132(4):639.
