Slave to pills

I am a slave to my pills. They control my time, where I can go and how I feel. There are different sized orange bottles on the kitchen counter, in the medicine cabinet, on my desk and in my coat pockets. There is no room for spotaneity in my life. I can't go some place and decide to sleep over. I have to plan. I have to put whatever pills I'll need in a baggie to take with me. There's pills to keep me from crying, pills to keep me from getting anxious, pills to keep me from raging, pills to sleep, pills for allergies, pills to keep me from puking, pills for headaches and pills for my lungs. Nice, huh? Some nights, I just want to go to bed. I don't always feel like going down stairs to get my pills and water. I can't remember what it's like to just go to sleep. I've been a slave to these G-d damn pills for eight years.

Best Wishes,
Jen

Eight years ago today

Eight years ago at this time, I was at work finishing up the lunch dishes. I was going nuts with excitement and nervousness. It was going to be an exciting day, maybe the most important day of my life, the day that I would finally meet the woman who gave birth to me! It was all I could do to not ask my boss to let me leave early. When I got home, it took me about two hours to get ready! I didn't know what to wear and I had know idea what to do about my dorky haircut! I called you that afternoon to make sure that you still wanted me to come. You told me that you had had diarreah (HA HA!) and had to make yourself eat a bologna sandwich so that you wouldn't get sick. Thinking back, I don't think I ate anything.



Everything was so surreal. When you answered the door, I couldn't believe it-we looked nearly identical. I don't know what was wrong with me, because when you asked me if I thought we looked alike I said "no". Sorry for being an ass! I'm not sure why I didn't hug you when I got there. I had no idea WHAT to do. I do remember being very happy that there was no crying going on. I wasn't into crying then. (Little did I know....)

Like I said earlier, the whole event was surreal. I remember feeling like I was floating in the air, and just watching what was going on. I had wondered about you for almost twenty two years and all of a sudden I no longer had to wonder. I'm all too guilty of putting up walls and blocking my feelings. I realize that it's not the best thing to do, but everyone has to find SOME way to cope. I know that meeting me was really hard on you too. I'm honestly sorry about that. I wish I had known more; studied up on this type of thing. Although, there's probably nothing that can completely prepare a person for reunion. If I had known that that would be the last time I saw you, I would like to think that I would've acted a little different and tried harder. One thing I know for sure, is that I certainly would have hugged you. Hugged you for a long time. Anyhow, here's to eight years of no longer having to wonder. **holding up beer mug for a toast**

Best wishes,
Jen

The reason for the name of this blog

Dear Kim,

Every day, sometimes several times a day, I think of things that I wish I could tell you. I have come to realize though, that we don't know how to communicate with each other. Our emails always seem to become argumentative. I walk away feeling like you don't understand what it is that I am trying to say or explain; I know that you think that I talk in circles. For now, I will talk to you on here. Though you may never read it, at least the words have been spoken. Perhaps someday, I can send these entries to you. While, I would much rather be able to talk to you, it serves neither of us, if we walk away frustrated. For now, this will have to suffice.

Best Wishes,
Jen

An answer to your question

Just a warning... This was very hard to write, so it might be best to not read it all at once.

A while back, you asked me in an email, if it would have been fair for you to disrupt my life when I was a child. I never answered, but I'm at a place where I can try to answer it now. I doubt that my answer is going to be what you expected or what you want to read. That's one of the reasons that I never answered. However, it would be a disservice to both of us, if I didn't tell the truth.

As a child, I really thought that you would come back for me. I expected it to happen and I wasn't frightened by it. I think my understanding of adoption, or lack thereof, was part of the reason I thought this way. Being adopted wasn't talked about very much. I know that I knew about it before my brother was born and he was born a month before I turned three. The only thing I was told about adoption, was that my mom wasn't my "real" mom. In my chidish thinking, I knew the opposite of "real" was "fake" so I thought that she was just someone to take care of me, until you could.

I was always hypervigilant about watching and waiting for you-especially around/on my birthday. There was a lady at our church who had the same birthday as me. I was very skeptical of this lady and I remember secretly thinking that maybe she was you, but she just couldn't tell me. On my fifth birthday, I wasn't at the sitter's- for some reason I was home. I remember playing and stopping dead in my tracks when the doorbell rang. In the thirty seconds it took my mom to open the door, I was thinking that I just knew it was you. You had finally come back for me and I was ready! Of course, it wasn't you. In fact, the lady w/ the same birthday as me, had brought me flowers. I had never heard the word "conspiracy", but for some reason, that's what I thought was going on. I thought that everyone BUT me knew who you were.

I don't know how old I was when I stopped watching out the window, waiting for you. I think I did it for quite some time. Even when I had stopped watching and waiting, I still looked for you. I was always looking for you, everywhere that I went. So, would it have been fair for you to disrupt my life? Based on what I thought as a child and knowing that I always assumed it would happen, I can't say that it would have been unfair. Again, I know that's probably not what you want to hear and I am sorry for that. However, what good would it do for me to lie?

Best wishes,
Jen

A cancelled appointment

I was supposed to see my doctor today for a "girl exam". I didn't go. I called and cancelled. The reasoning for which, may sound stupid, but made sense to me at the time. I knew the doctor was going to ask questions that I don't have the answer to. I knew I would be asked if anyone in my family had had breast cancer. I'm almost 30 and that's the age you have to start having mammograms if you have a family history. I didn't want to once again, have to say, "I don't know. I was adopted". It's not so much embarassing, as it is awkward. Most people just have no idea what to say, so they say some of the most stupidist things. Many don't understand that they really shouldn't ask questions and should basically SHUT UP! I've had doctors ask me if I knew who you were, if I'd met you, do I talk to you, do I have siblings yada yada yada... Luckily, as I've gotten older, I have learned to give short answers that don't lead to more questions.

Best wishes,
Jen

Valentine's Day

It's been eight years, but I remember it well... It was Valentine's day morning and as I was getting ready for work, I decided to quickly check my email. I was happy to find that there was one from you. The email was quick and simple, but when I read it, I was over the moon! I was so happy! This is how it felt I told myself, to not have to go another holiday without knowing who you were, without knowing where you were. I no longer had to wonder, because you were right there. You wished me a happy Valentine's day and I wished you one back. That email meant more to me, than if someone had given me a million dollars!

I still know who you are and I know where you are, but I wish I knew more. I wish I could have sent you something for today. It's hard to do though, when I have no idea what you would want and don't know what kind of things you like. At Christmas, I wanted to send you a fleece blanket I had made, but I didn't know if you'd like it. Maybe you would have thought it to be tacky or cheap. I don't know. I think about things like this every single holiday. Not one goes by, that I don't wish I could send you a gift.

Best wishes,
Jen