Today I am angry. I don’t want to be. I’m angry because I can’t find me. I feel so empty. If you knew me before adoption you know I was a positive and upbeat person. I was a charge the hill kind of girl. Conquer the goal. If there was in incentive put out by my company there was never any doubt I would earn it.
I keep thinking that doing the next thing will make me feel better. That I will wake up one day and I’ll get through the day without feeling like crawling into a hole and crying my eyes out. That I won’t feel like I was punched in the gut. Then I get angry because it’s the afternoon, I had a seemingly good day yet here I am ready to break down.
I wrote the book. I was obedient. I got it all out. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, putting our story into words on paper. Not only did I write it out, but re-wrote it about twelve times, each time opening up the wounds. Some days I thought it helped. I hoped.
Then it was published. The day it was released for purchase I thought would make a difference. When it didn’t I felt a pit deep inside me. How could I finally do something I’ve wanted to do my whole life (write a book) and not be happy and excited?
I HATE that we adopted. I HATE that we were lied to and brought RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder) orphans into our home who terrorized my family. I HATE that I can’t shake this – whatever this is.
Yesterday, RAD son, who is almost 20 and moved out on his own (for the second time) in November, came to the door and rang the doorbell like it was an emergency. Over and over and over in quick succession. I froze. My brain shut down and I froze. Who was it? The police? They are the only ones I know who ring the doorbell like that. I was shaking. Why are they here? Do they have one the really bad RAD’s? My heart was pounding. I opened the door to see RAD son there – wild eyed. After telling him to please only ring the doorbell one time I asked him what he needed.
“Give me papers. I move to another state and need papers.”
“OK. When are you moving?” (Thinking it was immediate with the sense of urgency he displayed.)
“Soon. When I get money.” (So not urgent at all and most likely will never happen because he spends money like he has an unlimited supply.)
I walked into my office to get his birth certificate, citizenship paper and social security card, which have been in my safekeeping. I hand them to him. He turned and started to walk out the door without saying anything.
“V”, I say.
“OH! Thank you for adopting me.” (Telling me what he thinks I want to hear – I don’t.)
“V, that isn’t what I was going to say. I just wanted you to know we are your family and you can talk things over with us. What is going on with you?”
“Too much going on. I no talk to you anymore about it.” And he left. Closing the door and shutting us out, once again.
I think to myself that I will probably never see him again. And realize he was acting like he was on something. Maybe that’s why I am still so deeply sad. To know that everything we went through was for nothing. It changed nothing. Nothing good anyway. Adopting only brought heartbreak into our happy home.
Our family is forever changed. All because we wanted to make a difference in the life of a teenager. To give them a good future. Opportunities they wouldn’t have in Ukraine. We failed. It doesn’t matter the failure wasn’t our fault. We still failed. We opened the door for our family to be abused and traumatized and didn’t make a difference at all.
I talk to Yahweh and ask for His help to take this thing I’m carrying away. My mind goes to the Apostle Paul and the fact that whatever thorn Paul was carrying Yahweh refused to remove it yet Paul still persisted in his mission to spread the gospel. I’m no Paul, but maybe there is a lesson there for me. That no matter how I “feel” the mission must be accomplished. So I will carry on – for the mission.
The mission. STOP these atrocities from happening to good people. I read on an adoption group yesterday a family with two younger girls are bringing home a teen boy from Ukraine. I wish I could scream STOP STOP STOP! At the very least I hope someone passes my book along to them so they will learn what could happen. And I pray that their eyes are open to the truth before a huge mistake is made.
If you, or someone you know, is thinking about adopting, please read my book. It is over 350 stories of families who have adopted, including ours. 350 plus families who adopted babies, toddlers, children or teenagers; domestically and internationally. Every single one of them wish for a do-over. Marriages crumbled, families destroyed, biological children raped and molested, parents in prison for no wrong doing, jobs lost, careers ruined, reputations shattered – all for trying to do the right thing by an orphan. They are the stories you don’t hear much about. The truth about adoption.
Please spread the word about my book and this blog. You can make a difference by helping to bring the truth to light about adoptions as they are currently being done.
Thank you,
Kathe
www.adoptioncombatzone.com
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