Therapy Is in Session

I've been trying to figure out why my family history has been bothering me so much. Especially issues I have with my adoptive family. I'm back in Seattle now, so it's not like I have to see or deal with them ever. It's been bothering me because I now realize that in order to fully heal myself I have to deal with these feelings. They're just brewing inside of me, like cancer. And I feel them all the time now that I'm not purging or drinking them away. I've been stunted all these years, and just punishing myself over and over, and I can't do it anymore.
I never knew my birth father, but I can only assume I'm not much like him, because from what I can remember I am almost identical to my birth mother. Some of my demons are clearly passed down, so I'm sure they were her demons as well. I see things in my past differently as an adult than as a child, as we all do.
When I moved back to Erie PA which is where my adoptive family were born and raised, it took me about two minutes to see that there would be no bond with my adoptive mom and myself. You see, I had changed, I had somewhat grown into myself while living in Seattle. I met people who accepted me, fucked up bits and all.
The problems with my adoptive parents are not even their fault, or my fault. It's just something that shouldn't have happened, and now it's kind of just a mess. They are who they are. They are conservative, right wing, Christians. I am not. I was raised in an extremely liberal household, and that has stuck with me. While I lived in Erie, I could not be around my adoptive mother for more than five minutes without a lecture about how she was never happy until Jesus, and nothing will ever work for me until Jesus, and she's so worried about my soul and just insane things.
My birth mother had me when she was a teenager, classic story. My grandparents, (her parents) wanted me to live with them, and in the early years I did here and there, but when I was eight years old she married my step-dad and I went to live with them full time. For some reason my birth mother just could not love me. Or as she used to say, she loved me because she had to, but she sure didn't like me. She was a complicated woman, at least that's how I see her now. She was abusive to me both mentally and physically. A few years after they married, she had a baby and was a very loving and doting mother. I was told from as early as I can remember that I was ugly. Any chance she got to tear down my looks she took. The funny thing is that I look  a lot like her. I'm saying all of this to say that there were reasons that everything in my life happened, but I never dealt with the feelings of loss, and I never really grieved. I remember that we didn't really talk about my old family with my new one. It was as if they thought that by me living with them it was as if I had lived with them always.
This is all such a mess, and I'm sure the way I'm kind of reliving it and writing it is making no sense. This is one of the main things that has come from my meditation practice. This new knowledge that I have to deal with this crap within myself, and come to terms wit it all. Running away and living in denial has done nothing.
I'm emotionally spent now. I guess the hour is up for now! I'm going to organize my thoughts over the next few days and figure out an organized way to sort all of this, and tell my story in a way that is more fluid. But for now this has been a huge step just talking about it, and opening this can. It's very scar, and I thought a million times about deleting that post. But I know that this is important for me to do, so I'm sticking with it.