Adopted

I have a unique role in life as I was given up for adoption at birth and many years later history repeated itself and I went on to give my own daughter up for adoption. Before you judge me please listen to my story.

In 1972 I was prematurely born to a woman named Phyllis and a man named Leroy. Phyllis and Leroy met each other in a state run psychiatric center, they were both patients. Phyllis had schizophrenia and I don’t know Leroy’s diagnosis, don’t know much about him at all actually. I do know Phyllis loved Leroy, her eyes lit up when she talked about him and she talked about him with such fondness. Phyllis loved me too, but because of her circumstances she wasn’t able to keep me. I became a ward of the state and put in the foster care system.

At 3 mos. of age I went to live with a foster family who had 3 children of their own and a foster son. I was only supposed to be with this family temporarily until a permanent home became available. The family I lived with prayed and prayed they would be able to keep me and as fate would have it their prayers were answered.

I always new I was adopted, my family never hid that from me, in fact my (adoptive) mom would read me a book called “The Chosen Baby” which was about a child who was adopted into a loving family. I looooved hearing this story as a child, it made me feel so special and so loved.

I had a fairly normal childhood. Played games with my siblings, built snowmen, went to public school, visited with aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, had family dinners and church on Sunday.

At 12 years old I began having struggles and had my first suicide attempt right before my 13th birthday. It was then I had my first hospitalization in an adolescent psychiatric hospital. I was there for over a month. This was just the beginning of a 33 year battle with mental illness.

The next episode I had occurred between 14 and 15 years old this time was more severe I had delusions, paranoia, and severe mania. I believed I was a famous roller skater and skated around my high school in a cut up British flag muscle shirt, and long underwear with shorts over them. I’m sure I was quite the sight, but I was on top of the world, a superstar- I was Nancy Kerrigan!

After that high I became incredibly depressed and paranoid. I wouldn’t let my mom open the blinds in my room because I felt like I was being watched and I just wanted to stay in my room and sleep.

It all came to a head after I went to a party I wasn’t supposed to be at and I had a total psychotic break with reality. I believed I was psychic, believed I could talk to dead people through the airwaves, and I believed I saw God and that I was Eve (from the Bible story Adam and Eve).

After I totally lost my shit I was taken to another adolescent psychiatric unit that I remained at for 3 months. At this point I wasn’t diagnosed with anything or put on medication. It wasn’t until I was 17 and put into the State Hospital that I received my first diagnosis as having bipolar disorder. I remained in the State Hospital for 3 months then went to a long term treatment facility for teens where I lived for 6 months.

After my time there I managed to get my GED then go to college for art education. I was also working at a daycare center at this time. Things went well for awhile. I met someone and we began dating, we had incredibly strong chemistry together, I swear sparks would fly when we were in the same room together. I soon became pregnant with my first daughter. We moved in together. We had every intention of raising our daughter together. Then it happened again. I became out of this world insane, picking paint off walls because I thought there were listening devices beneath the paint, seeing images fly out of the tv, thinking people were coming to get me, believing there was a gas leak in my apartment and actually calling the fire dept. because I believed it so strongly.

Needless to say my relationship with my daughters father fell apart, we went our separate ways. After I gave birth to my daughter I actually tried raising her, I never ever wanted to give her up for adoption. People in my life interfered and got an adoption agency involved. I was put into a psychiatric hospital and I lost my daughter. I was forced to sign the adoption papers while I was locked up in the psych hospital. I was 21 years old at this time, my daughter was 9 mos.

My heart was broken, I had no will to live, I felt dead inside. I went on to live in an independent living program for those with mental illness. Eventually went back to school and moved on with my life but never ever forgetting about my baby girl.

At 33, after more instances with the mental illness, I was diagnosed with a more accurate diagnosis, schizoaffective disorder, because I have both symptoms of schizophrenia and bipolar, fun right? Finally after years of trial and error I was put on a medication that changed my life completely and I have done extremely well for the last 14 years, it really is a miracle and I am incredibly grateful to have my mind back.

9 years ago I was reunited with my daughter and she now has a child of her own, my grand baby. Despite the fact I wasn’t able to raise my daughter like I wanted to I am so thankful she’s given me the opportunity to be a part of her life now. Her biological father is also a big part of her life now too.

Another blessing is 3 years ago I found my birth mother, she passed away on March 1st, 2019, so I believe I found her when I was supposed to. We have some beautiful memories together and I know we both brought so much joy to each others life during the brief time we had together.

Never lose hope miracles really do happen.