I am on zoom meeting 23497326548923958734... and my mind is drifting. I find myself thinking "I am way better at this social distancing than I would have ever thought". A few things to know about me. I am a hyper-extrovert, or I used to be. I have always been deeply affected, infected and. impacted by other people's needs, moods and emotional responses. I am profoundly concerned about how other people are feeling - whether they have what they need. So this "social distancing win" takes me by surprise.
Actually, I find my abilities and energies to do the work of relationships, of keeping in contact with people, of checking in ... are greatly strained. I have reached capacity. And I am pretty calm about it. First, I have inherited nearly a hundred new familial relationships with actively engaged and loving people who are interested in building community with me. I am not used to having family, let alone family who notice when I am missing. I have not heard from my adoptive mother at all since this crisis began. I haven't reached out to her either.
Second, I have never liked remote human contact outside of social media. I loath the phone. I have yet to figure out why. Requests to talk on the phone versus text actually makes me angry - the sound of people chewing level angry. So, this "introversion calm" could be a response to the remote-ness of the human contact or the amount of said remote human contact. At any rate. One day without human contact would be ... amazing. Maybe.
Third, I am really struggling with how egocentric this experience has made people. Perhaps they were always egocentric and this has just enhanced that. I do know that this emotional response to selfishness stems from my childhood trauma and the narcissistic characteristics of my adoptive mother - think buy herself food and eat it in front of her hungry children level narcissist. I also cannot help but note who "prioritizes" themselves and their needs and who is selflessly fighting to keep others alive and well. This shit makes me angry. And I know I cannot afford to burn any bridges. I am a guest in every aspect of my life. I cannot upset those who have invited me in ... into their work community, into their family, into their social spaces. This leaves me silent a good amount of the time because reacting, responding or redirecting would leave me blameful and more alone than I currently am.
I know that I've taken to this nuanced sense of social distancing because of the distance a human feels when they are ripped away from their mother at birth. I have always felt this emptiness. This is the infinite social distancing, being sold/acquired by strangers. My adoptive mother used to blame our "bonding issues" on how distant I was as an infant. The adoptive family would tell stories of how I cried if held. It took some convincing for them to believe I was pregnant at 19. My avoidance of touch, theirs in particular, left them thinking that intimacy was not something I was capable of. They were worried I would not bond with my baby - but I fell in love with him from the moment I knew he existed. It is the thing about my adoption that haunts me. I could never have given him up.
So tomorrow...
I turn 50 tomorrow. I cannot believe that my 40s are over. I cannot believe that I am turning 50 while legally restricted to my home. Thank goodness one of my children is here.. I had a big ole party in my head. Instead, I am quietly thankful to be alive and not sick. That is so very unlike me. My birthday has always been a really big deal to me. It was the one day a year I felt alive. I felt like I could not be rendered invisible. I could indulge in the attentions of my adoptive mother and in the musings about my genetic mother. Does she think of me on my birthday? Today I just think... i will not be in my 40s tomorrow and what does that really mean.
I have lost the ability to react, to respond, to feel deeply. It is a helpful survival reflex ... but it also means I will likely not remember any part of these last few hours in my 40s. And, for some reason, that really bothers me. I am used to loss. I have lost the most important thing in the world to most humans, my mother, my family, my identity ... my ancestors. I have no idea what 50 year old women look like in my genetic families. I don't know anything about menopause, diabeties, high blood pressure, demensia in either family. I don't know what we LOOK like when we get OLD. This lack of roadmap matters more this decade than any other. In my teens, 20s and 30s I had peers who gave some context to what life might be or should be like. I am so very disconnected right now, and legally isolated with the rest of the country... I don't have any idea what tomorrow should be like. How should I feel?
I will be fine. That too is survival reflex. Today's need to reflect and document... the last day... is a surprise but one I welcome. I am still here, in my body, ready to face tomorrow. I welcome 50. I hope that this decade brings me some answers... some joy... some challenges and an answer to the single most pressing question of my life.
Who is my mother? I have been waiting 50 years to meet her.
More soon (from a distance)...
Baby Girl Murphy
My last picture of my 40s taken April 7, 2020