less than sarah

this is not a normal surviving sarah post. this is simply a time when i need to express myself and absolutley no one will understand but i have to "talk" about it because of all the feelings i have and i don't understand any of them. i have no witticisms, no quirky message, nothing that is even remotely funny to make anyone feel more at ease with their bipolar child or quips on how to deal with your equally crazy lives. i just need to go on with a bit of ororrhea and then be done.

the last couple weeks have been horrible. simply horrible. bailey's thyroid is completely screwed up again. her TSH is FIVE TIMES the normal limit and her goiter makes her look like a bullfrog. her T3 is "critically low". and she's failing algebra. as in a 48 failing. not to mention she is relentless on the bitch factor these days.

dominic. ugh. so the nurse practioner at the psych's office said he didn't think he had adhd and took him off his meds. put him on something for ocd. BACKFIRE. dominic had some kind of...i don't want to say breakdown, but i swear he had an allergic reaction to the stuff they put him on. all sorts of weird anxiety behaviors-like litterally picking all the skin of the ends of his fingers, plus a lot of verbal hostility. yes, the kid everyone calls "the good one". i officially was at my end and talked the NP into a different drug-one for anxiety and adhd. almost two weeks and he's show improvement. not fine, but better.

the dog. oh yes, we got a rescue dog. i love her. i do. but if she eats one more screen door/stuffed animal/roll of toilet paper...i will go cruella de vil on her and turn her into a coat.

and finally, the entire point of this pariticular conversation...if you know me well, or even follow me here, you know i am adopted. you also know that i have met my birth mother and that the end result was less than productive. there are positive things that i gained from it-like medical records, and family history, and getting to know my "aunt" linda and spend some time with her before she was diagnosed with cancer and died. and getting to know my "uncle" patrick and learn about his family, and the things he told me about her before she wasn't at her best.

after linda died and i went thru my divorce, i lost track of patrick. my birthmom and i only communicated thru my yearly birthday card and christmas cards. in the last couple years, i had gotten terrible about sending the christmas card. heck i don't send them to anyone anymore. there have been a number of times i picked up my birthday that she had sent me with her new address in it and thought about sending a "just because" letter...to let her know i'm okay, that the kids are growing, and that life is moving on. but i haven't. i also keep telling myself i need to write to patrick and his wife and see how they are doing. while my birthmom is more than left of center, her sister and brother are really amazing people.

so last week in the midst of all this crap that's going on, i think, hey! i wonder if patrick is on facebook! gawd bless facebook, social wonder that it is...and isn't. so i look him up and sure enough, he is! friend request sent. and astonishingly, answered rather quickly. i was so pleased as i was worried that after a few years, he might think i was encroaching on his privacy. but no, he was so welcoming. and then queries that i must have heard the news.

news? no. no news.

we had a phone conversation the next day. unfortunately it was interupted by real rush hour traffic for him. but the jist is this...my mother is obese. short and squat. and of poor health-linda had shared some of her habits with me and none were good. contact with a physician? not in years. now, this is where the traffic part comes in, and patrick had to get off the phone. but not before he got to tell me that my birth mom has died. last fall.

now as i'm typing this, i find myself tearing up, just like i did as i hung up with him. i think i said "oh..." and i know i said something "gosh i'm so sorry". part of me is so sad. for him and his brother who have lost both their sisters. for kathy, who, if my math is right, was only 58 or 59, as she was just nineteen when she had me. and let me tell you, for as nutty as she acted with me in the recent past, i consider her to be very brave and fantastic for doing what she did and bringing me into the world. especially since her original intentions were quite different. i don't know if i've mentioned it, but she went in for a consult for an abortion with the doctor who wound up delivering me. in my opinion, there are much easier routes that a young, unwed, pregnant girl in the seventies can take. the doc somehow talked her into carrying and giving me up for adoption to a nice couple he was treating for fertility issues. for all she had become, i find her extrodinarily courageous.

and i'm a little sad for me. but i don't even know why. and on the other hand, i feel terribly guilty that i don't feel more. i mean, i barely had any relationship with this woman because of the lunacy that followed our initial meeting. but she was the reason i even am. so i feel like i should feel so much more at the news of her untimely death. this also has pushed me into somewhat of an identity crisis. i'm not even sure i'm supposed to feel, and that makes me feel worse.

so here i sit, in complete confusion. feeling a little beaten down, more than frustrated, and kind of alone.