I went to see Bob Dylan last night. It was a great show. I’d seen him once, years and years ago, and had fallen asleep. This time, both he and I seemed very awake. It’s funny that someone can win the Nobel Peace Prize for Literature and yet, when he sings his work, most people can’t understand what he is saying.

Bob Dylan could make a great adopted person. He could mumble his needs and leave all those around him even more deeply confused.

There was so much I did not even know I was feeling as kid. Outwardly, I was normal. Granted, I stole, lied, had problems with stomach and headaches; I had trouble leaving home, but those can all be chalked up to bad behavior. Unless, of course, the child has sustained loss his or her body and mind can’t process, and then any deviant behavior should be handled with wisdom and love. And an adoption-competent therapist. I can not stress this enough: if you adopted a child and do not have the support of a therapist who knows adoption, you just brought a burning building into your world. You could have prepared and had a fire hydrant, but you figured you could put out any flames with love.

You can’t extinguish a burning building with love. If this were true, fires would not be so scary.

So. Let’s move on to the list.

If I wasn’t Bob Dylaning my way through my younger years, I would have said:

1. I think there is something fundamentally wrong with me. When I lie, cheat, steal, set fires, I am trying to have my outside world match my inside world. I just don’t know this. If I am garbage and you aren’t, how can I talk to you? You won’t even understand me. Silence is my savior.

2. My stomach feels anxious all the time. This makes me moody.

3. I am terrified of getting in trouble. Sometimes I get in trouble on purpose just because it all feels inevitable.

4. When you leave me with a babysitter, I stand by the window because I think you may not come back.

5. I am hungry all the time, especially for sugar, because I feel like I’m always one footstep away from where I am supposed to be, and I’m trying to catch up. I need the energy.

6. I am curious about where I came from but I am afraid to talk about it because I’m afraid of hurting you.

7. I love books about orphans for a reason. The Secret Garden, The House at World’s End. I don’t know I’m connecting my life to those of the characters. Do you? Could you tell my therapist I’m reading these books so I get to talk about them with someone who has insights and tools you don’t have?

8. When my pets die, I go into a dark place. Do you know this loss is connected with my brain’s inability to process the fact that I was born to a mother who could not keep me?

9. This loss also happens when I lose a friend or a necklace. I need so much love and gentleness during these times. It’s like I’ve been burned.

10. I don’t want to feel weird because I already feel weird. So if you start talking about adoption when I sit down to eat my cereal, I might get really mad or I might just look at you like you are a dick. This is why you need a therapist who knows adoption inside out.