I'm a gifted adult survivor of child abuse by my adopted parents, who left me with chronic depression, PTSD, and a touch of autism for good measure. Here I examine the fragments of my past. It's enlightening but not pleasant. You've been warned.

If you want to see my lighter sides, here's a list of my other blogs:

We Have Always Lived in a Homeschool my blog about homeschooling my three gifted children

Lioness' Fandom

My Pinterest Boards where I express myself without words

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Goodbye Ground, Hello Freefall

Several years ago I got out my birth paperwork, realized I was too traumatized to deal with it, and I haven't dared look at it since.  Seriously, that lying piece of legal shit that said I was the actual daughter of my abusers -- I have never, ever hated anything in my life as much as I hated that piece of paper.  I couldn't stand to touch it, even to look at it clearly.

There was another form with my altered birth certificate, a name change form from the Christian charity that handled me before my adoption.  It changed my name from "Angel" to the name my adoptive parents gave me.  I thought, "Eh, generic Christian placeholder name so they didn't have to write down 'Baby Doe'."

Only now I've talked to another adoptee who came through that same charity who says that's not how they operated.  Apparently they did try to get a name from the birthmother.

That's the most devastating thing I've heard in my life.  I'm used to being abused and abandoned.  I can take that.

I can't take this kindness.  I can't stop crying.

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