Snowflakes and Camel’s backs

November 5, 2007 at 11:29 am (adopted, adoptee, adopting, adoption, adoption reform, adoptive parent, birthmother, birthparents, first mother, help, Independant Adoption Center, natural mother) (, , , )

When someone snaps people often wonder why they never saw the signs. We wonder what could have been so terribly wrong without any of us knowing. How can someone seem so normal on second and then so insane the next? I have wondered these very things about people in my life. How could I know them but not know something was terribly wrong? Now I am sure many people in my life are wondering the same thing about me.

You see, I have figured out the whole snapping process. I watched myself do it this weekend. It was a strange thing. I could see it happening but was powerless to stop it. I could only watch as I spun more and more out of control. Gotta love dissociation. Thanks PTSD!!!!

It starts with the big thing. The thing that is terribly wrong. The one I hide from everyone behind my fake ass zombie smile and oh so strong words. The thing everyone ignores because its just easier that way. The fact that losing my daughter killed my soul. That is the big mountain side of snow in my case. The big thing always lurking under the surface of every moment of my life.

Then come all the little snowflakes. My health is one of those. To some it seems like a big thing but what is it compared to losing little A? So on to my health… I am so sick all the time. I have a hard time even getting out of bed most days. I am sick to my stomach all the time and everything hurts. I force myself to do the things the boys need but after that I am too worn down to do much more. There are a million things i have to do before the Bean gets here and I just can’t do it. I spent 2 hours curled up crying today because i can not figure out how to finish fixing my floor before my due date.

Another thing I can’t do while i am so sick is make any damn money. That means I do not have everything I need for Bean and things are hard on the boys right now. And the things I need to get and do just keep adding up. I found out this afternoon that when my charming father put up my crib for me he lost all of the hardware. That means I don’t even have anywhere for Bean to sleep! This alone brings back all those voices telling me why I am not good enough for my daughter. I can hear those whispers all the time now.

Then there is my middle boy. My sweet Monkey Man. He is high functioning autistic which brings challenges. He can not handle seeing me upset. But that isn’t really the problem. His birthday is coming up. I have no clue how I can afford to do much for him on that day and its not fair to him. He also has the bad fortune for his birthday to be 3 days after little A’s. So I am bound to already be an emotional wreck. Add one more little snowflake of him having a chorus concert on Little A’s birthday. I can not tell you how much I dread the thought of being stuck in a room with all those happy families with their perfect children and perfect lives on her birthday. I will do it for him but it will hurt like hell.

And the snow storm itself…. in 9 days my baby will be 2 yrs old. I have never heard her laugh. I have never seen her smile. (pictures do not count) I don’t know what her voice sounds like. Not a clue what she likes to eat. I have never smelled her hair fresh from the bath. Never seen the sparkle in her eye when she is being naughty. Never felt the weight of her head on my chest as she sleeps. I don’t know anything. I have missed it all and I wish I were dead.

So when the stupid dog acted up tonight it was one snowflake too many. The mountain side came crashing down. I snapped. I’m sorry for everyone that depends on me but i just can’t anymore. Its all way too much. I am tired and I can’t fight anymore. I fought damn hard for 2 yrs but its way too big for me. I don’t have anymore supportive advice or insight or whatever. All I have is a broken soul and pain. I can’t fight the good fight. I can’t help everyone else. I am going to bed and not getting up until December. Maybe by then I can muster enough strength to pretend I am alive again.

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