An update, of sorts
My reply to a question in an adoptee group about our love for animals (or not, as the case may be) garnered the following response from me:
“I’m not a great lover of much of anything tbh.”
It’s true, I’m not. I’m not exactly enthralled by kids, animals’re just like people, I’m fine not having to live with them. Some of the are nice enough, but there’s not many I particularly enjoy spending my days around, too often.
I’ve been reflecting on that initial reply since I wrote it, and it’s true. While I do love my daughter, I do so by default because that’s what moms’re meant to do. It’s certainly not the fawning adoration that some moms inflict on their kids. Yes, I’d probably kill and/or die for her if needed, but that’s because it’s what I as a mom am s’posed to do.
The only person I do think I really love is mbro, with whom seems to be the only person on the planet I can truly really relax with. It’s horrific that I was 37 before I even knew he existed.
Anyway, yes, Life(tm) has been taking it’s usual twists and turns. Remember the Happy mothers’ day post where I said “oh woe, it’s all over”? Well, as predicted by The Reunion Textbook, it wasn’t really all over.
Me ‘n’ bro went round after she replied to my poking on my Happy fathers’ day post, and I wound up pointing out to her exactly where her reactions make the rest of us think she doesn’t care, ‘n’ so we go into don’t give a fuck mode too. So she’s taken note that the levels of contact aren’t as extremely horrific as she thinks, and has agreed to get counselling too (trauma counselling, not bmom counselling). Oh yeah, ‘n’ she wants me to go along to the counselling with her.
I am gonna have to make sure it’s not too close to my own counselling though.
Yes, I’m having counselling. Not, as I am so desperately in need of, adoptee specific counselling, though. Counselling this time is just about trying to find tools to help me manage the stress of it all, rather than dealing with the stressors. My counsellor’s willingly taken Primal Wound to read, though has cautioned he only plans to skim some ‘n’ not get engrossed. It’s an easy read though (unless you’re an adoptee, then you have to keep going to get new boxes of tissues every few pages), and so I’m hoping he might start to be able to help with some of the stuff at some stage in the future. Even if he doesn’t get there for me, he might be more aware for someone else in future.
Dad’s still confussling me some though. I *know* he loves me, and that he loves all his kids (perhaps in the same way I mentioned ^up there, who knows), and that like the rest of us, he does have a life to live. But … <sigh> … some contact ‘d be nice. Yes, I know I can go over, but … … … *waves hands around ineffectually* I was waiting until my birthday to see whether I’d hear from him before I started this post that I knew was coming at some stage to see if I’d get any contact. I did. I had a brief call (’cause I was about to drive or summat) so he could ask me to send our address so he could send a card, and I’ve had a card. Of course, now I’m left pondering if that’s ’cause Mrs Dad got it of the calendar, or whether Dad actually remembered ‘n’ thought of doing it himself.
No wonder amom says I think too much. She’s fine, if tired, ‘n’ still lovely, btw. :}