Sunday 11 November 2018

Adoption is not an Option

I've never told about that anyone. I didn't even say this thing to myself, I didn't write it down in my diaries, thinking that if I will avoid the truth it would disappear. 

It didn't. 

The truth has this one feature that, when denied, it becomes real 'problem', it grows and tugs us stronger and stronger, until something breaks...

I regret I was born. 

Simple as that. Yet... appalling and unbelievable. 

I regret I came to this world and that I live my life. Why? At the first glimpse, because of the pain I live with. Because of the shame I feel though there is no reason to feel it. 
But when I go down deeper into my emotions, I see this unspoken thought suggesting that I shouldn't be born, because it would make some things easier... 

The question is what things? And for whom?

The demonic answer is that for me. I'm serious. I hear that 'voice' in my head. But this is ridiculous. 

I remember very well the countless situations my mother had been saying that she 'regrets' I was with her, because, if it wasn't for me, she could go out for a date with this handsome policeman... or do anything else. She was the one who was constantly pondering how her life would look like if she didn't have me. And she is not an exceptional situation, for we all heard about parents telling their children that they ruined the parents' lives only by coming to this world. 

So, by thinking I regret I was born, I still protect her. She didn't abort me and this is something good (but nothing extraordinary), however she had no ability to take care of me and she wasn't mature enough to find me someone who would ensure better protection and upbringing for me.

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