Why I did it: No longer a ‘Missings Person(s)’

As the owner of this website, I’ve shared quite a bit about my life in blog entries throughout the years.  That, came to a halt last year towards the end of September after I removed myself from my family‘s home in Washington state indefinitely. Many have asked me since discovering that I was never a missing person(s), how I ended up on the Missing Person‘s Network for almost 6 months.

My adopted mother falsely filed the report claiming I am a ‘mentally-deranged‘ teenager in need of medical attention. I have never (in the past 6 months) been in need of any kind of medical attention, other than therapy, to combat the emotional abuse brought on by living in that home.

I ended up on that website because of a controlling adoptive mother.  I was adopted in 2001, after a bitter war between two sisters tore a family apart for good.  For years, I had always felt like I was a pawn — which sister could get me before the other could, or which sister could make the other look bad to get me.

Being a young child as all of this was happening, I didn’t have much of a say-so in anything. I didn’t want to be adopted, but was, because one sister couldn’t have children due to having slept around during her teenage years; which made her make the other sister out to be a wack-job which was how I got adopted.

In my eyes, I wasn’t adopted to have a ‘new loving family’ — I was adopted to feed the narcissistic supply of a woman, that today, I do not consider anything more than a stranger to me.  The woman, Amy,  is nonetheless someone who constantly tries to control situations — (to the point, she is attempting to hold my almost 20-year-old brother) against his will in her home. Who does that?! He’s almost 20!.

I left home, for one reason, and one reason only.  In a family, your not suppose to feel like the outsider. You’re not suppose to feel like something about you, is why your family can’t stand to be around you. The home I grew up in, in my opinion, was allot like prison — and I ain’t even been there yet.

I’d often go months, without seeing friends because I am openly gay (and wasn’t allowed to hang out with boys (even if they were straight).   Very rarely would I ever have the chance to leave my home to enjoy a day strolling around town, grabbing a coffee, or even just sitting in the sun.

Today, as I look back, I don’t regret what I did. I left to have a new life, to find love (and I did), but most of all — become a happy openly gay man; something I had never been living in that house.

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