I have always loved to dance. As an adult adoptee, a bio mom, and an adoptive mom, I dance between love and loss regularly. I dance with joy over small victories and small signs of acceptance. I dance to escape pain and to avoid obvious rejection from my family(ies). Let me continue to dance with the pain, the understanding, the surrender, His plan, and not faint.

Seether’s “Fine Again”

It seems like every day’s the same (Nothing changes . . . my birthparents cut me out, and so I face every day the same . . . trying to be who those around me want me to be, trying to be myself, trying to be who God intended for me to be, yet with no relief for my wound because nothing has changed.  They still don’t acknowledge me.)

and I’m left to discover (my birthfamily/my origins/my beginning/my story/what “REALLY” happened) on my own

It seems like everything is gray

and there’s no color to behold (how I feel . . . living each day, but having to cope/give up on being connected to my “ghosts” of my past)

They say it’s over and I’m fine again, yeah (I know this is what people would like to have happen in me . . . and me too some days–just that “it’s” over, and I’m fine again . . . no more sadness/depression/anxiety over the birthfamily I lost, found, and then am denied contact with now with the exception of a few sweet sweet cousins and great uncles/aunts).

Try to stay sober feels like I’m dying here (trying to stay present with the family/people around me who love me . . . inside I’m battling my loss . . . sometimes outside I am battling my loss too–visibly)

I feel the dream in me expire (my dream of them accepting me has not expired)

and there’s no one left to blame it on

I hear you label me a liar (my birthdad accused me of using “fictitious means” and I do feel like sometimes when I’m hurting, the people around me are tired of hearing about it/want me to get past it/there is a feeling of having to Convince people what is going on in my head/heart.  😦   Being adopted at day seven means to many people that all is well . . . as if there was no separation/loss of identity/birthmom etc.  So, sometimes just trying to educate people on what the baby goes through can put me in a position where I feel like they are questioning me.  😦 )

‘cause I can’t seem to get this through

You say it’s over, I can sigh again, yeah

Why try to stay sober when I’m dying here (since nothing is changing . . . my vision of healing would be that my birthmom and birthdad would embrace the one they placed and allow my siblings/aunts/uncles/cousins to communicate with me . . . but since nothing is changing, I have a wound that I seek to “treat” until something changes.)

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