Something Compels Me
Someone In My Ear
For the past 10+ years, something in the back of my mind has been telling me to start this. What ‘this’ is, I’m not sure. I want to help others and you all. But the purpose of this might end up helping me. The thought of starting this has kept me up countless nights in search of something I do not know. I know I have spirit guides backing me on this. It is a repeating in my ear like I’ve only experienced a few other times now. This is what compels me.
I’m adopted. That is a hard sentence to write and doesn’t sound right in my mind when I say it. I’ve probably been ignoring it for so long that I’ve pushed it back in my mind. When I say ignore, I don’t mean I am oblivious. I am stating that I don’t mention it to everyone I meet nor do I have to explain myself to everyone. Telling the story as any transracial adoptee may get tedious. You can tell your story one million times, and get the same one million questions.
Reading Others Experience
Going through profiles on Instagram or the web and reading about the traumatic effects it had on other adoptees have kind of opened my eyes. How many times do I have to read that adoptees are four times more likely to commit suicide? Apparently, not enough as almost every adoptee, including myself, has posted about it. I think by ignoring the suicidal thoughts for so long and masking it with as much alcohol as you can imagine might not have bee the best choice. Not saying the majority of my choices haven’t been fully dependent on alcohol in the last decade. Because of that, many memories have been stored and forgotten in my mind from this activity. Although, my decisions have had their consequences.
The trauma I’ve been trying to escape is the one I’ve been perpetually laying in front of the adoption trauma time and time again. I do believe that I don’t think I would have been here without alcohol. Most of my friendships were forged from living in a sinners paradise. Definitely, not advocating the use of alcohol. The alcohol might have killed me, but my friends were much greater than the alcohol.
No Labels Here
I will not label myself a trauma survivor or anything related to that. Can it just be enough that I simply survived? “I once knew a man who had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” This isn’t a competition for me to see who has gone through the most shit. I do understand circumstances, however, once you’re 18 you can do what the fuck you want. If you’ve made awful decisions as I have then lucky you! In no way am I saying I haven’t had success. Above all, my effort and work ethic are my gold standard and probably why most of my close friends were at one-time co-workers.
In short, a couple of authors stand out in my mind that helped me through the rough times. According to Kamal Ravikant, author of Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends on It, I need to put in the effort to love myself just as I do work. In other words, I need to cut the shit and let the light flow through me – per my psychic medium. Finally, author Shaaren Pine penned Torn Together: One Family’s Journey Through Addiction, Treatment, & the Restaurant Industry. Anyone who has worked in the food service industry knows that it is a haven for addicts. I am fully aware now that this was probably not the best place to work during the great recession.