Hello, I was raised as a foster child from the age of 5 or 6 years old; I am 49 now. I never new my mother, she left me, my two brothers, younger sister and my father at a time when I was to young to remember her. My oldest brother is the only one who remembered us being a complete family, but all he remembered was alot bickering between our parents. I for a very short while my father tried to keep my siblings together before we all eventually end up in an orphanage, first my brothers, and my sister and I. Before my sister and was taken to Junior Village we live with grandmother (my father's mother) and until she died shortly thereafter. I guess the saying is true, "you don't miss what you never had"; at that time in my young life not having a mother never occurred to me. It was until I was a teenager, in foster care that being a foster child made me feel that something was wrong with me, once children who had their family started to questioning me about my biological family. I became ashamed and embarrased of being a foster child. One day I mustered the carrage to ask my foster mother why she and my foster father wouldn't adopt my sister and I, she told me that they had been trying to adopt us, and even had a lawyer draw up adoption papers but the Department of Social Services told them they couldn't because my biological father who was an alcoholic refuse to sign over his parental rights. My situation was hopeless, at that point I became rebellous; I beleive that I was unworthy of love, unlovable and afraid to love or be loved because it hurt to much and it seemed as if everyone I cared for was taken away. They died or just didn't want us anymore so to cope with my pain I start using drugs, firsr marijuana, then LSD, and PCP. Like most teenage girls from a broken home I began having sex with boys trying to create the family I had been denied. I finally met my biological mother when I was about sixteen, when I saw her I realized I had seen her once before on a city bus when I lived in a girls group home, that she lived within walking distance from. To this day I remember it as if it was today 34 years later the burning desire I had to ask the stranger on the bus who sat on the long seat in front of me if she was my mother. What was most hurtful to me when we met is that she had another daughter and son, youngest sister and brother that she was raising, both my mother parents was there and my mother's sister and they were all strangers to me. What I resent most of all today is being on public transportation and not knowing how many times our paths have crossed, looking in the face of strangers and wondering if they are my brothers or sisters. The severity of my abandonment did not just affect me and my four siblings; she was pregnant with my father youngest daughter when she left, but it also affected our children. I have been drug free for ten years now and still learning how to cope with being abandoned by my mother.
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