22 July 2009

Choking

Choking. Suffocating. There is no other way to describe these overwhelming emotions threatening to take over my grip on reality. The word ‘pain’ feels overused... it is almost too basic now. There are no words to describe how I really feel.

Every day, I wake up, get up, go about my daily life but at the back of my mind, this monster lurks. Threatening me menacingly... trying to take control of the reigns, but still, I fight back, try to keep my control.

I close my eyes at night and fill my head with daily nonsense; the latest books I have read, my work stresses etc... but she is always there as I let go into slumber. I can see her eyes burning me as she asks why, why, why? I cannot answer her... I cannot connect, my protective shield has gone up and all I have energy to do is hide myself from her, so she cannot see the broken shards left over from my heart.

This, all this from one hug. One hug and one look that has held me captive ever since... accentuating the helplessness in my situation; the fact I cannot be there for my own flesh and blood when she needs me. How can I describe this even remotely close to what I truly feel when I think of my eldest daughter?

In February, I blogged about my last visit with A. Since then I have been unable to write to her, unable to email her captors for another visit, unable to let myself think of her as I usually do. It has been unbelievably difficult to try and keep her out... but when I have allowed the thoughts to come, I feel like I could be crushed by their weight; it really has been so traumatising.

Her actions in clinging to me, in not wanting to let go, the look in her eyes... it was all so raw; her pain so clear for all to see and yet I had to stop myself from screaming as she was yet again taken away, taken to a place she calls home with strangers she calls ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ who have forced her to live this pain and are purposely oblivious to her pain so they can fulfil their own desires. As a mother, this incenses me to a point I want to hurt someone. Not that I would... but oh to be a mother lioness who has the right to defend her own young in her own environment. There is no justice in our world.

So, here I sit in a new plain of trauma. It comes with the territory of being in an “Open Adoption”. Someone from hell must have been giving out free lessons on how to cause a new brand of evil and torture that day because it really is above any other torture I have suffered yet. Sexual abuse, assault, terrorism... yes they were all bad but nothing on the losing of one’s own child over and over and over and over.... again.

5 comments:

  1. I wish I could wrap my arms around you and shed tears for our lost children together. That we could, through our grief, try to see some light at the end of the tunnel. That we could find a word that means something to us, to what our heart feels that would make the realities we live with understandable to those that live without knowing this unbearable "something" that grips us so tightly it threatens our very existence. But alas, I am here in Ontario Canada, and you are in New Zealand and so this cyber hug will have to suffice I suppose. One day we will have our children in our homes and everyday lives as well as in our hearts.

    Luv and Hugs,
    Denise
    xo

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  2. I'm sorry you're hurting, take care of yourself.

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  3. Thank you Denise and Maybe... I really appreciate your kind words and thoughts... am doing better now but I'm amazed at how this can come from nowhere and bite. HARD. Thank you again, I really treaure my 'cyber' friends :)

    Myst xxx

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  4. Im so sorry you are going throught this :( I hope you are feeling a little better now (((hugs to you)))

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  5. Sweet Sweet Myst, We are there with you, us "FORGOTTEN MOTHERS",5 years into reunion, my son is now 43, HATES ME AND WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME, and I followed all the advice stroked the T's and dotted the eyes, of adoption reunion.
    You describe so so forcefully and eloquently, how we live beyond pain,TRULY A BOTTOMLESS ABYS OF ETERNAL SORROW, my thoughts so so often, DEATH WOULD BE SWEET.
    Tartan Hugs.
    Marah.

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