Family is necessary for basic human survival. That's what the Discovery Channel tells me anyway. Most people grow up knowing where they come from or at least knowing that the people they live with love them. They grow up with this connection to life and other people. A connection I don't have or understand. Sure there are fucked up abusive families that damage and abuse each other, children and adults. I'd say most families probably screw up and cause a little damage here and there.
I was removed from my abusive mother for the first time when I was 6 months old. Apparently I had some health problems and seizures caused by her neglect and CPS came to check on me and found my mother too intoxicated to care for me. I was sick and dirty, and starving. My mother was only 17 when she had me, but she was already a hardcore drug addict. I would be bounced back between my mother and foster care for the next 8 years before CPS finally decided that she had had enough chances. By the time my mothers rights were severed she had given birth to six children, all of them removed from her care. My mother was sent to prison for four years for child abuse and I never saw her again...well at least not until I was 20 years old.
Within those sporadic years spent with my mother I lived in about 20 states. We were constantly moving....always in the car. In seedy motels. I know today that it was because my mother was constantly in trouble and evading punishment. She married my stepfather, a middle eastern man in the US to study engineering, when I was 2. We moved to XXX country and a middle eastern when I was 5 or six and we returned when I was 8....or nearly 8. I remember turning 8 in a children's shelter so we must have come back earlier.
I lived in about 42 foster homes, group homes, and children's shelters before I turned 18 and aged out of foster care. Did CPS save my life? Who knows. Yes, I'm sure they did, but the system was just as abusive, if not more so than my mother and stepfather.
I was talking to my foster mother online from 2 am to about 4am today. I lived with her for the longest I ever lived in any home. 3 years. I left her house when I was 12. I was mute. I was anorexic. I was suicidal. I was destroyed. She tells me she loves me, never stopped loving me, and has missed me. My reaction is severe. It scares me. I want to scream "FUCK YOU" at my computer screen. Where did that come from?
I'm a grown woman today yet I still feel that aching need for someone to want me. I still want a mommy. I want to be held and loved. Except I don't like to be touched. Why didn't anyone ever want me? I constantly look at pictures of myself as a kid. I wasn't cute and adorable but I also wasn't hideous. I tried so hard to be the perfect child. I just don't understand why I didn't deserve a family.
I started going to therapy in May of this year hoping to deal with this crap and move on. I'm tired of dwelling. It's time to get over it. My therapist is nice. I like her. Can she help me? I'm not sure. Does she like me? I'm still not sure. It's hard for me to attach to her. After all she's just another person paid to pretend to care about me. I have this overwhelming feeling that she's going to end up dumping me as a client eventually. I'm sure I'm a very frustrating client. I go to therapy thinking I'm finally going to talk today. I'm going to share, going to start my progress towards health. I sit on the couch and I go blank. Why am I here again? What should I talk about? What are these things called feelings? I don't have any of those!