There are a lot of things standing in my way, one of which my debilitating fear of rejection. I think this is true of all people, especially writers. It's the feeling of "I'm throwing my soul on paper for others to read, and I don't want them to judge me unworthy."
I know there are many people in the world that have gone through much worse than I have. I am uniquely aware of those struggling around me. I am not the person to say "I'm better to succeed that the guy next to me."
This is not a good opinion to have if you write. You need to be able to sell yourself, or at least, as of this writing. The good successful writers I know are willing to stick their voice right out there in the conversation, knowing there will be dissent but knowing somehow that it doesn't matter if there is.
For so long, for so many reasons I have been dependent on the opinions of those around me. Since my judgement is so skewed, I am liable to put something out that not only isn't good, but doesn't speak to anyone in particular.
Recently my writing has been relegated to the back burner in the hopes that I can glean some psychological understanding of myself; in an effort to heal and grow.
I look at those with goals and ambition and I find myself jealous. I've never had a goal like that, one that keeps my attention for more than a day or 2, save for my craft of course.
I know the odds are against me, and it stops me dead in my tracks.
I ran across an example of this today at work. A work friend approached me saying that she needed some ideas on how to get her idea through a patent office. She is working with one of those companies that helps your ideas come to fruition. It's a GREAT idea, I'm not saying what as it's not patented yet, but really, fantastic idea. She is feeling daunted by the amount of paperwork this all requires, the amount of money it's going to take, and she wonders as her job may be going away soon, if she will be able to get this done before her job is discontinued and she finds herself unemployed. I told her, focus on the now, not the later. Just live day by day. These are things my therapist tells me every time I go to see him. I get caught up in the present a lot, and worry about the future.
The truth is, the NOW is what is important. I don't know what will happen tomorrow or next week. I don't know if I'll see my sons ever again. I may die before they see me again, I may see them tomorrow. I can't sit here and worry about it. I can grieve, but I can't grieve what hasn't happened yet.
This is why I don't just call their adoptive parents and ask if I can see them. Because if they say no, it's over. Another friend of mine ran across this in her college career earlier this year. I didn't really understand it at the time... "Why wouldn't you ask your Prof for the extension NOW rather than the last week of classes?"
"Because if he says no, I know it's over."
Hers was a time related deadline, and I don't know if mine is or not. I never will know.
All I do know is that my son's birthday present will be delivered in the next few days. It was shipped to the wrong house and now someone has to drop it off to the adoptive parents. The plan is to dump and run.
Not an easy proposal considering the item being dropped is a swing set. But it's the best we can do.
But what if, suppose, we weren't so afraid of the rejection. What if the word "no" wasn't such a powerful word.
No (plural noes)
1. A negating expression; an answer that shows disagreement or disapproval.
2. A vote not in favor, or opposing a proposition.
It's very definition, an answer that shows disagreement or disapproval. There is a variant for almost every Germanic language. Na, Nai, Nay, Nee....
But, it's a very important word, too. If you don't want to do something, or be forced into something, the word no is the word to use. It's important to specify things, "No, not this but THAT." In understanding, "No, that's not what I meant, let me try to say it another way."
Without the word no, we could not effectively communicate.
But, it is the thing that stands between us and what we wish to do. SARK, who is a writer focused on inspiring artists and writers, suggests putting the word "YES" in big colorful letters all around your house to inspire you and help you believe anything is possible.
Although, I was thinking about this... By making the choice for the publisher, the Adoptive parents, and anyone whom I am afraid will reject me... Aren't I taking the choice out of their hands?
Something people may not know about me, I am a strong believer in Autonomy. That is, the ability to act independently of influence or force. One of the things that bothered me most about the end of my previous marriage was that the Accused didn't really have autonomy anymore. He refused to take it by taking care of himself, he refused to take action toward anything without someone holding his hand. This man, who was once so independent, was dependent on others for everything; from how he got from place to place, to whether or not he ate or not. Was he capable of doing these things himself? YES. He could have taken the bus, or made food, or even ordered delivery, but he just... didn't.
So, I am very conflicted between my fear of rejection and my overwhelming need to allow those around me their autonomy, even if that autonomy ends up in me not seeing my kids, the Adoptive parents should have the choice, not me. The courts placed my children in their capable hands. I need to trust their judgement.
Adding to that, I am having a hard enough time processing my own emotions, add to that angry adoptive parents, add to that likely angry,frustrated and sad boys, and I'm just not sure I could process all of that effectively. My kids could be really mad at me. I took away their Dad after all. One of them knows why, (because the little scamp looked it up online... Evan is always full of surprises.)
I'm embarking on a new journey tomorrow. One part of me really wants my sons there, another part says wait until the healing is done. All this'll do is open up old wounds.
So boys, if you are out there somewhere reading this, I love you. I love you more than I could ever possibly say, no matter what happens I always will. Every Friday, I do a post on my social media called "stuff on my head Friday" This means, you are ALWAYS on my mind. Pictures are just a fun way to say that, and are worth a 1,000 words. I have novels-worth, full of love for you. I have words to grow gardens, I have words for each and every one of you. I have never stopped having words for you, as you are me, and in a lot of ways, I am you too.
Just as I am your grumpy, kooky, kind of crazy disciplinarian mother, I am still very much a wide eyed child, morning the loss of my parental home, my bestest playmates (That'd be you and your Dad), and my family who lives far, far away.
I'm trying to put this all together in a way that makes sense. I'm trying to make it make sense to ME let alone to you. You may not always be told the truth about things because those who are parenting now want to protect you from how truly terrible the world can be sometimes, but the truth will come to you someday. I'll be here to listen when that happens. I am always here, and I am always listening.
I'm the one who has to remember everything, you know. These memories are fleeting, and I know when you are grown you will not remember all the adventures of your childhood. But the pictures! Ahh yes, they tell a story. They tell the story of a Mom, Dad, Aunts, Uncles and Grandparents who loved you. They tell the story of wild adventures all over the place, at home, at Nana's, at the Zoo...
They don't tell the story of what your Mom had to do to keep you safe after it came apart, and they don't tell the story of how much it hurt.
It doesn't tell the story of your Mom crying every day you are gone. It doesn't tell the story of the empty bedroom that she finally just had to close the door of, to avoid looking in. If Mom looked into that bedroom, she turned into a crying statue. It doesn't tell the story of how Grandma Griffith and Steven had to send Mommy away from Mom's house while packing, because Mom couldn't do it anymore without crying. It doesn't tell why Mom cannot do the dishes anymore, and why Steven always does them. I used to run into your cups, all with your names on them. Into the room they were locked away for Nana to find. Along with the wedding dress that I married your Father in. The dress that you Evan wore with me, because I was so very pregnant when we did Marry.
These are stories for a post child world. I used to think I would do anything to get you back, but then I remember what Danny told me one night. He said "I like it better at Nana's, can I go live with her over there?" And I'm sure he feels guilty about it, but he shouldn't because that's how he felt at the time.
Nana, Grandpa and Uncle M just had their stuff a bit more together than Mom did. They could better handle what was to come, they being 3 and I being 1. They don't love you any more or less than I do. They just had the ability to take you in when I could barely function.
I know you are happier, I know they are better equipped to take care of you, but I too am a child. I sit on the floor of my bedroom sometimes and wail. I say how unfair it is, but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't improve our situation or make anything any better. I'm powerless though to change the situation. Change must, in this case, come from within others.
And so, my little men, off to my next journey. I will send letters, I will send cards, I will send presents and pictures and all the joy I can stuff into an envelope. I'll keep working hard, even though most of the time I no longer see a reason. I won't let the world know how much I am hurting, how broken I am... I won't even tell you if I ever see you. I'll just embrace you, and try to hide my tears of joy.
In the meantime, try not to cry for me. Be good for your parents. I love you more than words could say and time will never mend it.
-Mom
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