Dysfunctional Beings

I’ve been reading about adoption lately and have stumbled on a couple of adult adoptees’ blogs.  It is tough having been abandoned by your parents and that leaves you scars that only other adoptees can understand.  I can’t even begin to relate but I know of the effects.  I have love ones who have been abandoned by their parents.  For that, I know very well how insidious the effects are and will never wish it on anyone.

I’ve come to learn though, no one can corner the market on being dysfunctional.  We all are at some level and trust me any one who says they aren’t, are probably more dysfunctional than the rest of us.  We all have reasons why we are all a little weird, some more than others but truly no one is normal.  I don’t even know what that means.

Normal.

This post isn’t meant to belittle the pain that people have suffered and resulted in inabilities to lead a normal life.  Their pain is real and so is mine.  It is how we deal with our dysfunctions that sets us apart.  Here’s where I get inspired.  I never knew that being abandoned by your parents and having been raised by people trying their best (like my parents trying their best) can leave you with questions, doubt and guilt that can be paralyzing.  Yet adult adoptees all over the world, pick themselves up everyday and try to deal with insecurities as best as they can.  Everyday they do their best at being normal.

That’s what I figured normal is – trying our best.  Not by society’s standard, not by your neigbours standard, heck, not by anyone else’s standards.  By the example of my parents and through their support I’ve learnt I just have to wake up every day and just keep trying my best.  Some days I get it and other days I don’t.  I still get up.  Why?

Simply because my parents had me when they were 19 and 20, what did they know about being parents?  They simply did their best with what they knew or didn’t know every step of the way.  Some days it was good enough and some days it wasn’t but they gave it all they had everyday.  I got lucky with parents.  I am dysfunctional but in ways, I truly can’t complain about.   My husband sometimes think my dysfunctions are why he is entertained with me.  Like I said, I got lucky.

I’m far from normal but I try everyday.  I like to think it’s the same for everyone 🙂

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