A vent of sorts.
First thing's first... I'm adopted. And it's no big deal. I was adopted as a baby, and have never known any other family than my own. My Mom and Dad are the people who raised me. My birth parents are not my family, and never will be. I never want to meet them, I never want to know them. It's not in hatred, or some kind of grudge for adopting me out. I just don't care that they exist, however bad that may sound. I feel VERY strongly that my real family is my adoptive family, and I really can't explain it, but It would just be wrong for me to think otherwise.
I also have a sister who is adopted. She's a year younger, 17. She's bipolar (diagnosed, takes medication, etc), and really has a lot of issues. She is very very hard to live with. But she's my sister. And even when she puts me down to the point where I wish I was an only child, is cruel, says hateful things, and causes our family to be completely torn apart, (whole other issue), she is my little sister. She has recently decided to find her birth mother, and without asking, sought her out through letter she had written. My sister called her, talked to her, met her half sister, and eventually met her. She told me all this in private, and it hurt, a lot. I told her how I felt, and she got mad at me. "How you you be so selfish not to be happy for me! I've wanted to meet Ronda (her birth mom) all my life, and now I finally have! What is wrong with you?!" I explained. It's great for her, she can do what she wants, but I don't want to meet her. A few weeks later my sister told our parents about meeting Ronda, and that she wanted them to meet her. They were so understanding, met her, etc. Peachy keen, that's great, I don't care, I'm not meeting her. She tells me later about how she's going to spend New Years with her sister. She says this nonchalantly. But it stung, and still does. I'm her sister. Not this girl she just met. Even with all the sh*t she puts me though, it hurt so badly.
That was all a month or so ago.
I was out last night. My Mom flew to New York this morning. I came home at around 9AM. I walk in the door, say hi, take off my shoes and leave them by the front door as usual. My Dad walks around the corner and screams at my to pick up my shoes because Ronda's coming over. Wow, way to tell me. I move my shoes, and go upstairs. I'm not meeting her. They know how I feel about it. A few minutes later my sister screams at me to do the dishes. I do the dishes. A few more minutes, and my Dad screams at me to bring my laundry fro the laundry room upstairs. I do this. I understand we have company coming over. But the thing is, I've been home for two and a half hours and no one has yet to say a word to me other than to scream at me. No, "Hey Gillian." Or anything. It's not a lot to expect. But nope, all too preoccupied in their own little world. Didn't care to tell me in advance when they know how I feel. Because obviously, it doesn't matter to them.
I went downstairs to get a glass of water, Ronda's not here yet. My Dad yells at me that I'm in Pajama pants, and that I need to get dressed. I tell him what he already knows. I'm not meeting Ronda. She doesn't have to know I'm here, I'll stay upstairs to not be rude. But I am not meeting her. Rachel hears this, and even though I've also explained to her, she starts screaming at me. My Dad threatens to ground me from the barn and take away my car.
So I call my Mom, who is probably the only understanding person in my family. She understand how I feel. Tells me not to worry about it, etc. She says she'll talk to my Dad. She calls back a while later and tells me that I should at least go say hi. I tell her that I can't and I won't. She's not mad. I wish she was here because I really just need a hug.
I've been hurt so badly because of all of this. It feels like no one gets how or why I feel the way I do. My sister thinks that she has a horrible life. And that somehow had she not been adopted out, she'd live such a better life. Our parents give us SO much. We live in a beautiful house, she does dance lessons, she gets all the nicest things, she doesn't want for anything, and she sees none of what she has. We are SO lucky to have what we have, and to have parents that care so much, I'm not saying I'm perfect. But I appreciate what and who I have in my life. And it is SO WRONG to imagine that her life would be so much better elsewhere, with here "real", "better" family.
There's probably more to write. Ronda just got here. I'm sitting in my room wishing I was anywhere but here. I don't want a pity party. I just want someone to understand. Ronda is not my family, she's not my sister's mother, and she's not a part of my life.
I wish they'd respect that.
I give myself very good advice, But I very seldom follow it