Going In

For most of my adult life I've kept a lot of my feeling to myself. When I was adopted, it was something that no one really wanted to talk about. I think my adoptive parents thought that I would automatically be a totally different person just from being adopted, and shown love and all of that stuff. I quickly figured out that my old life was not to be discussed unless it was putting it down. I'm just now realizing how that has a part in me trying so hard for so long to deny who I am. I am so much like my birth mother, or how I remember her it's scary. Down to habits of mine. I like to lay in bed and read, and sometimes(a lot of the time) I like to have some kind of crunchy, salty snack while I'm reading. I have vivid memories of my mom doing the same thing.Pretzels were here salty reading snack of choice. Like every day. I could go on and on, but that is just one example that for whatever reason sticks out in my head. She loved to read, we always had books spread out all over the house. All kinds of books. She had a lot of opinions, but she was well versed on her opinions. I am the same way. I have loved to read since I can remember. I loved books before I could read! I also got my love of animals from her. We always had animals growing up, and she was a warrior for animals. At one point in my life, we lived in the country, on like nine acres or something. Hunting was a thing in this town, and a lot of the acres were just not fenced in, and totally wild. So, every hunting season she would put on a fluorescent suit and go chase off any maniacs who thought they could hunt anything on our property. She was fearless that way, and people didn't scare her.  But she had a dark side. A side that for some reason could not love me. When I was eight, she married my step dad. A short time after that, she had a baby. She might have been pregnant when they got married, I can't remember. Anyway, she loved my half sister, and was certainly never abusive. She used to let me know that my half sister was the one who was going to make her proud, and other gems. It was as if it wasn't enough that I could see the difference, she had to make sure I got it. I feel certain that maybe I was born out of some kind of attack, or my birth father did something horrible to her or something of the sort. I may not have been a perfect child, but for the love of all it seems too weird to me that she could have such hate for one kid, and such love for another. I mean, I suppose most parents have a fave, but to be totally emotionally and physically abusive to one, and not another is strange, and most horrible parents are horrible all around, and to all children.
I'm only now starting to look at my past from a different perspective. I now realize why I always think everyone else deserves what I don't. Love, respect, kindness, the life I want, etc. I've always thought that stuff was simply for other people.
This is what happens when you spend so many years puking and drinking away your feelings. They continue to exist, no matter how much you ignore. I guess maybe you face things when you're ready. I don't think I was ready to get in there before. I wanted to be free of all of this. I wanted to be one of my friends, with their family no matter how fucked up, it was their family. They had that connection that just is. That kind of connection can't be forced.
I'm really glad I've decided to write here whenever I'm getting the feelings. This is seriously the most I've ever delved into my own past, and feelings and I have to be honest it's really helping. I feel like I'm getting to know myself, and I feel like it's helping with my self esteem in some weird way.
I'm not doing a whole lot of editing, I'm going with the flow and the feels, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes.