Warning: I'm angry and writing this at midnight. Don't get too offended. Exhausted Jadyn has less of a filter than usual, if that's even possible.

Another warning: this post mentions suicide and depression.
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To anybody not adopted, adoption seems like a beautiful, blissful process in which loving couples receive the healthy, happy child they always wished for and totally deserve.

Yeah, sorry to burst your bubble (I'm not really sorry), but we aren't all happy nor healthy. In fact, I just stumbled upon SEVERAL websites and articles about customers that were so very unsatisfied with the child they purchased! What a shame!

It physically pained my heart to sit there and read all of those articles and comments. Thank God my own adoptive mother isn't that stupid. And we have the Tasmanian Devil himself living in our home (my little, adopted, autistic brother). Do we wonder what life would have been like without him? Yes, of course. I get it, children that don't match your description of 'normal' stress you out. But, does my mom resent him for something not of his control? No. Because she's worthy of being a mother. So much more worthy than any of those complaining women will ever be.

It brings me tears. Parents claiming they have things like "post-adoption depression." I'm sorry, but that's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. If after being given the BLESSING OF A LIFE, you simply focus on the trauma of your infertility or the fact that a child is not biologically yours... guess what? You're not fit to be a mother. You're a sorry excuse for a parent and you do not deserve that child. I don't care how many issues that child carries.

I guarantee that child, especially if this in the case of an international adoption, has gone through more than you ever will. Simply a white woman, believing she's doing the work of God, adopting a black child is going to impact the child so much more than it ever will the mother. That child, during a sensitive time of development, will endure comments that make them believe they are out of place.

No, but these people STILL have the nerve to sit there and whine about "post-adoption depression." If you can't appreciate the child your life has been blessed with, you're. not. a. mother. Infertility is rough, I get it. I can't imagine what my parents went through when the news was broken to them. However, it is not a reason to wallow in self-pity because the child you just adopted "triggered" you.

I understand that they are cases in which parents welcome an older, adopted child into their homes and tragedy strikes. I read a woman's story about her adopted son who molested her daughters and many more young children. This, I understand. Just as I understand abortion when it is a terrifying health risk to the mother. I do not expect anyone to hold on to anything when it is destroying them. However selfish reasons like not being able to cope yourselves, not handling society's comments well, or resenting the fact that that child is not biologically related to you... that is inexcusable.

It kills me to read real people saying "Adopting older children is a joke!"

It kills me to know that an adoptee said "My sibling and I are adopted. Our parents regret it; they once told someone they wouldn't do it over again. Neither of us was special needs, etc. They just had unrealistic expectations about adoption..."

It kills me to read comments like "I'm not looking for horror stories of bad adoptions, just opinions on whether 'buyers remorse' happens with adoption..."

Buyer's remorse.

A human just referred to a confused, hurting child as a PRODUCT. Not sarcastically or angrily like I do, no. They genuinely used the term "buyer's remorse" for an unhappy, weak parent incapable of raising a child because it's not their own.

From me and every other not entirely perfect adoptee:, You're a sorry excuse for a parent!

It's almost like you forgot that is a CHILD. Not a new dress you purchase for your personal interest. News flash: kids don't come wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper adorned with a silky ribbon. Want to know why? That'd be a false advertisement. Raising a child? That's tough. Raising a child that comes with trauma you cannot fix? Even tougher.

But here's the thing, if you adopted that baby/kid/teenager, that's your child now. I don't care if the child has attachment issues. I don't care if they're reluctant to open up with you, call you 'mommy' or whisper 'I love you.' Do you realize such a child has gone through something you never will have to? They were torn from their mother's arms and shoved into your ungrateful ones.

Adopted children are not mutts from a shelter.

We are not charity cases. We do not want you to keep an eye on us the entire ride home because you're not too sure if you can trust such a reckless child out of a foster home.

Yes. We come with "baggage." We have no idea where we belong! We're cast out by the children around us because we are "different." Adults are just as immature prodding us with questions like "Why don't you look like your mom?"

We were literally exchanged.

I was born to be exchanged. I don't love saying that. And while my adoption was done solely out of love, there's still confusion swirling around in my bewildered mind. Why do I care so deeply about my birth-brothers when I've never spent longer than a day with them? Why can't I hate my birth-father who brings with him nothing but pain? Why are my friends so careless and insensitive regarding adoption? Am I really worthless? Am I really that much of a burden? If I strive for perfection will that make up for the fact that there's so many other things wrong with me? If I hide from any mention of adoption and contacting my birth-family, will that make it hurt any less? I don't know! I don't have all the answers; I'm just starting to dig deeper into all of my untouched, unspoken feelings and it's like I'm drowning in doubt.

What do you expect when a newborn baby is taken from the only warmth, comfort, and love they've known for the nine months of their existence? That's traumatic! Whether you live in the perfect, suitable neighborhood with adorable outfits line up for your new baby or not, that child is going to be hurting.

What do you expect when an already confused and emotional teenager is tossed around from foster home to foster home then suddenly adopted by an "eager" couple? That's traumatic! They have no sense of belonging or genuine family connection and you sit there and expect them to sprint into your open arms.

That's the thing, you CAN'T expect ANYTHING. Each adoptee is different. And not in the typical "people are like snowflakes" sort of thing, but as in we each deal with the isolation, confusion, and anger in a different way.

Some of us give in to the alcoholics, drug addicts, or jailbirds hiding within our genes. Some of us, give in to the overwhelming waves of loneliness and abandonment and we sink. By sink, I mean placing a gun to our heads and pulling the trigger with blank eyes. By sink, I mean downing the entire bottle of pills, as long as the aching in our heart goes away. By sink, I mean watching the trail of blood from our wrists drip onto the sink.

No, obviously I haven't done any of those things. I'm pretty sure dead people can't publish blog articles. So, why do I use "our?" Because these adoptees, these lost lives, they're each a bullet to my heart. I understand the confusion swirling in their heads and the longing in their heart. I understand how badly it hurts them to just THINK. I understand why they recoil when told not to blame themselves. And I feel the present of the impalpable, taunting wall of disconnection between us and the rest of the world.

We are the minority that is pushed aside. While women march against the hands lain on them, while African-Americans spit in the face of racism, we sit on the sidelines. I couldn't tell you the reason. Most likely because there are not enough of us. Or, because we are not deemed important enough to listen to.

Who cares if a bunch of messed up kids from broken homes and tragic parents kill themselves? It's not like we were going to amount to anything, right? Who cares if our birth-parents information is kept from us? It's definitely not as important as Trump's Twitter battles, right?

Open your senseless eyes and clean your insensitive ears! Maybe you all have become so desensitized to HUMAN DEATH that my statements lose their effect. Thats not okay! The fact that adoptees are FOUR TIMES as likely to COMMIT SUICIDE than a non-adoptee should infuriate you.

Disregarding any human's suffering is not okay. And I understand that there are issues like the Darfur conflict (did you even know about that) going on that prove themselves to be much more lethal and concerning, but we are just as much a human as you are.

I should never have to remind someone of the fact that I'm human. It's so heartbreaking that I do, have to, repeatedly.

How many times do we have to scream that at you until you finally listen to us? One hundred? One thousand? How many tired, aching souls have to pull the trigger before you do something? One hundred? One thousand?

I'm not asking for sudden riots and violent protests. I'm not begging anyone to threaten the president or burn down a hospital. I simply ask for you to LISTEN. I don't want an audience to sit there, hear my story, shed a few tears, then move on with your life. LISTEN. Truly let these statistics sink in.

Adoptees are so much more likely to not only kill themselves but deal with mental illnesses as well. Not only because of the endless foster homes or longing for a maternal figure we were ripped away from but because of the isolation. We carry the constant paranoia that we aren't good enough for you. We worry that adoption, an anchor tied to our ankles, is something we'll never free from. On top of all that, we deal with your scrutiny.

We don't need excess comments on how "crazy" or "cool" or "lucky" adoption. We don't want your reminders. We don't want your shallow "observations" on how different our adoptive siblings look from us. We want your acceptance. We want your understanding. We need understanding.

We ache when genetics are brought up in science classes. We shouldn't have to explain one of the most painful stories we harbor every time new friends meet our adoptive parents. We shouldn't have to fight for basic rights like the access to birth certificates and health records. We shouldn't have to beg for a passport to exit the country because your secrecy ensnares us. We shouldn't have to lie awake at night cursing ourselves for slipping up and sharing too much; burdening our friends more than necessary. We shouldn't have to worry about the stares and judgment because our adoptive mothers are an entirely different skin tone/race than our own.

More importantly, we shouldn't have to die to be heard! We shouldn't have to down a bottle of vodka to gain concern. We shouldn't have to cry, ache, and scream for acknowledgment.

So why are we? Ha. You tell me. You're the one disregarding us and our suffering.

Listen.