Boxes…I have many boxes in my life, I collect boxes that grace the shelves and tables in my home and boxes inside of me – boxes, many, many, boxes.
One of the boxes inside of me is reserved for my family and still inside of that box are other boxes – ones filled with the people who have caused me and/or continue to cause me pain. I cannot escape those inside the boxes always, but when they are not in my physical presence I can make sure the lids of those boxes are firmly shut and do not enter my space.
Another box is my maternal family and yet again there are boxes inside that box of those who do not and will not acknowledge my presence and wish I had never surfaced. Like the boxes within my family box their lids are firmly shut but sometimes they still escape and enter my space, my peace of mind. Why have I not learned to close their lids as securely as the ones contained within my families box? Is it because I wage a war of acceptance of their callous dismissal of me the ‘mistake‘ the symbol of their mothers fall from grace?
Another box is my paternal family box and it is filled with many boxes, boxes that stay firmly closed except one box, the box that contains the man who denied he was my father then and now. His box opens when I least expect it and it catches me unaware when I am at my most vulnerable. I struggle with the thoughts that I am like him but know I too have denied reality at times, and cringe when I consider I could be just like him. I makes me strive to face my life and my actions and be better than he. Perhaps it is a good thing he escapes his box to remind me not to act like him.
I have another box of friends I love that is going through the transformation of my other boxes, the addition of new boxes that I am sealing up tight now, boxes of those who were my friends when things were normal. They drifted off, one by one, bit by bit, they disappeared once I got sick. They are gone and now belong closed tightly in their box within my box of friends.
The world shrinks around me but those within my heart that are free and not contained a box within a box are those I cherish most dear. Being adopted has given me the lifelong ability to compartmentalize and neatly remove those who could cause me harm…I doubt bios learn that lesson so early in life.