03 April 2012


"I want to write a poem, a poem with a twist,
with a razor as my fountain pen,
I'll write it on my wrist.
If I do it right, a fountain should appear,
smearing all my problems and the burdens that I bear"

I found this poem around the time I lost Amber and currently it is circling in my head ALL. THE. TIME.  Before everyone gets worried, please don't worry.  I just need to get this out.  Its not about sympathy either.  But I can't hold this in anymore.

With all the crap going down right now, I feel like cutting in a big way.  Not my normal way. Not the easy cuts that heal in a couple of weeks.  I have been dreaming about pools of blood - cutting too deep, getting back into bed and never waking up.  Not particularly pleasant.

But I don't actually want to die.  I am not suicidal.  Its just that this pain is so real, so vivid like a freaking gaping wound and yet to the world it is invisible.  It is nothing.  And the knife handle sticking out is being twisted in a very painful way.

And so I find myself asking, what if I showed everyone this wound by putting myself in hospital?  Would they get it then?  Probably not because instead of compassion, I get people missing the point.

When I cut, it does actually help.  I find it calming - more than meds, more than anything else other than the beach and nature.  Cutting and seeing real blood reminds me I am alive and I am real.  This pain, this anguish when it is at its worst, is so consuming it feels I am losing my mind and ceasing to exist, that I am invisible.  When I see my own blood, I feel more visible, even if it is just to myself.

And to be honest, I don't think of cutting that much anymore - the last time I did it before this weekend was last year when I heard about Kristy and all that her death brought up.  Before then it had been over 10 years.

I don't expect others to understand.  Its not something everyone gets.  And its not about how bad my life is because it isn't.  I like living - outside of my hell in adoption, I love my life.  My kids, my husband, my family and friends.  I enjoy seeking new experiences and the warmth of sunshine on my face.  I have a lot of good in my life and I treasure it more than anything.

But when the knife handle is twisted, particularly by a family member, it causes more hurt than one could ever possibly imagine.  Like a shock, as if you know what is coming only to find the pain is worse than you ever imagined possible.

Recent events have set me back.  I am sure I will come out of it again as I always do however, I didn't expect to be back here ever and it frustrates me when I have been doing so well of late.

But I guess I keep forgetting that with adoption, it is neverending.  There is no such thing as a fullstop.  No such thing as closure.  Just when you think things are going okay, something will come along and pull the rug from beneath your feet when you least expect it.  And in a way you least expect it.

"Your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase"

- from the song "My Immortal" by Evanescense


  1. (((Myst))) Keep writing. Keep talking. I love you.

  2. I'm so sorry Myst. It's just not right that others are allowed to be a part of your daughters life while you are left out. The knife digs deep in adoption, over and over again and again...

  3. Thank you for this post. I just finished watching "Who Do you think you are?" on television here and it featured Edie Falco tracing her roots...and she briefly touched on her two adopted children but it seemed like she didn't "get" it. My husband said that if she is watching with her kids tonight, they "get" the need for roots.

    I can understand your remembering that poem. So vivid, so real. Good night on the other side of the world.


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