We've all heard the expression "you can't go home again" I learned that for me, this expression is very true. And what makes it sting so much more is that throughout my years living in Seattle the first time, any time I talked to my adoptive mom on the phone, her answer to anything I said or was going through was that I "needed to come home" Seriously, I don't believe I had one conversation over the span of twelve years that didn't include the sentence"you need to come home" I never considered Erie PA. home. I wasn't born there, and even when I was first adopted they lived in Ohio, which is the state I lived in. I was born in Ohio, and although as a child my birth mom and I moved around a lot, it was all in Ohio, save for a short time in Colorado. So, already by saying I needed to come home, my mind doesn't really know where to go.
I knew it wasn't the right choice for me to move to Erie. To this day it seems like a bad dream that I did, or that someone else took over my mind and made me make that choice. I moved back with my now ex boyfriend. As soon as we arrived, my adoptive parents kind of tried to take over our lives and they started kind of acting like no years had passed, that I was still the same age and person as when I moved away. I was still bulimic, severely depressed, and hadn't yet started using alcohol as a crutch. I was also much more sheltered, scared, confused, and clueless than when I moved back. I have made many, many changes to the point where I barely remember who I used to be. They never once asked me anything about my life in Seattle. Keep in mind that for the twelve plus years I lived here I talked to them very rarely. Sometimes a year or more would go by with no communication.
The bottom line is that they never wanted me to move to Seattle. They felt that it was smarter for me to move somewhere closer "to home" From the time I got off the Greyhound bus it was cold shoulder and guilt. I can't get over that. I faced some really hard times in Seattle, some really dark days that to be honest I don't know how I got through. I feel as though I spent at least ten years of my life crying for help, and unless I was willing to move home, it fell on deaf ears. A few times I tried to bring up how I felt, and to say they got defensive and went on the attack is putting it mildly. She is a therapist and he is a lawyer, so unfortunately they really know how to a) emotionally manipulate and b) win an argument. I loathe confrontation, so it's just not a good scene. The narrative is that they saved me, my birth mom is shit and they are my "guardian angels" or something like that. And Guardian Angels can do no wrong you know. Keep in mind, I know that I am no angel, and I certainly have flaw after flaw, and when I was younger I was much more than a mess. But my issue is that I admit and understand that I have flaws, and have made mistakes. But it is impossible for me to have a conversation with people who won't also own up to making some mistakes along the way.
I feel so much better. Last week was very hard for me emotionally, and I was really having a hard time fighting off the urge to drown my sorrows. It's that pressure I feel when I have too many emotions floating around, and no outlet. I just wanted some relief, no matter how temporary. I can't afford therapy, and to be honest I have zero trust in therapists anyway for a plethora of reasons, and I just don't have anyone who I can talk to as I work my way through this maze of feelings I've been holding in for so long. I have to go through this process to heal, and I know understand that there are no shortcuts. But you have to have a safe place, shelter from the storm. I guess this blog has become my shelter.
No comments:
Post a Comment