Suffering is hard. Especially when you suffer from something that is not widely recognized as being painful. Suffering in silence is the intricate and elaborate art mastered by the adoptee.
Up until just yesterday, there had been very little communication between myself and my newly discovered half-brother. But that did not stop me from thinking about him - daily, hourly, etc. And all the while, I'm suffering. My adoptive family is absent in their support. There are only two people I have been able to confide in since my world was turned upside down, and while I love them both for being a willing ear, the looming fear of being "too much to handle" creeps in easily.
"There are people who have it much worse than you." There are. And I get it. But it doesn't diminish my pain by any means. Knowing that there are those suffering terrible diseases, terrible loses, terrible physical pain, doesn't make me feel better. It doesn't lessen my suffering. It doesn't help fill the gaping hole in my spirit.
I feel very much alone in this. And that's not fishing for pity. I am alone in many aspects of my life. I keep to myself. I keep people out. And alone seems more and more appealing as those closest to me, those I confide in, seem unable to understand this suffering.
