I really do love my mom, but after nearly six years of searching she has yet to be able to accept how I feel. When I was living in Australia, I had 10,000 miles between us and suddenly, for the first time I was able to start to tell her what I had been secretly doing for two years - she was furious, and I don't even want to get into the situations that ensued when I returned home in late 2005, after a negative DNA test - but for the time being when I was in Melbourne, she was unable to emotionally break me.
Then, after graduation I moved to Cincinnati for a year. While I was still in the same state (barely), those 250 glorious miles between us made so that I could tell her something and not see her for another month or so, where by then she cooled off. I got even gutsier and told her of some of my friends, such as Kathleen, and their stories. I thought if she could see that I wasn't the only one who was searching, that she would understand that it was nothing against her, it was nothing wrong with me, it was just something that I had to do.
So now, I'm living at home. I did not like Cincinnati...it wasn't home, it wasn't Cleveland (despite the horrible weather, the shitty post-industrial economy, and our river that caught on fire - twice!....it's home). But at least I was free to do what I wanted. Now I'm back here, living with my constantly fighting, never loved one another a single second of their marriage, everyone wishes they'd get a divorce, parents. And I feel like I'm in prison.
I ended up in the Emergency Room the day after New Years with a severe migraine (which ended up lasting a week). I had blood work, I was drugged with heavy narcotics, I had CAT scans --- the works (I even have an appointment with a neurologist to get an MRI on Tuesday). They couldn't find the cause of my migraine, and when asked about my stress level, the response from my parents was "she doesn't work and she's not in school right now, she can't have any stress". RIGHT.
I really just needed to vent here. I don't even know what the point of this post is really, other than I'm frustrated and angry because my mother still does not acknowledge my loss...let alone that her decisions caused this loss. I'm not looking for her to go fighting to ban donor anonymity with me or anything - I'm just looking for her to say, if this is what I need to do that she supports me.
I hate that I'm terrified to tell her some good news about my search, for fear of being accused of being obsessive and told that it's not important. I hate that I have to hide my true feelings and beliefs from her because she goes on the defensive and calls me selfish and self-centered, that I don't care about anyone else but myself. I have never once said it's her fault, or accused her of doing wrong. She went through with it because she truly believed she could be a good parent and wanted a child and wasn't in a relationship. I understand that!
What I don't understand is that after 24 years, she can't get over her own feelings and accept that I have feelings of my own. Getting married and my dad legally adopting me doesn't change that my father is someone else!! It's like she wants to live in this fantasy, where her decision almost 25 years ago is erased. Sometimes I feel like she wishes she never told me, because it would be so much easier for HER. Changing my last name did want she wanted it to...it made things easier for her, no longer did she have to deal with my teachers calling her Mrs. Manzoian, and other awkward situations that arose. However, it didn't change me - I didn't suddenly morph into the biological child of my dad. I was still a stranger in my own family...I was still the black sheep, the one who stuck out like a sore thumb.