In my zeal to help, in my desire to carry the load and rid others, I managed to lose myself. I needed to physically separate myself from all of you so that I could being to understand how *I* felt about adoption and how it was actually affecting my life. I think I literally had no idea what my own emotions were anymore because I was all entwined with everyone else. The anger was most notable absent, but what else was there? This kept me busy for weeks, months.
And again, more paradoxes; how can I be some sort of spokesperson for pain if I find, that in some ways, I, myself am healed? Without the anger, I felt completely unauthentic. And how am I suddenly going to be able to say ‘”Oh by the way, AdoptionLand, you know how I have said that birthmothers cannot ever heal? Yeah, I was wrong. See, I’m fine now.”
See what I mean about a massive identity crisis?