Adoptees have a term that we call the "fog" To me the fog was a special place to be. I was normal, happy, and grateful that I was chosen to be raised by strangers. You know, now that I write that out it sounds pretty fucked up. Raised by strangers? Thats right, I was not raised by my biological family but given to another family entirely. I used to be good with that. I used to be grateful and I used to praise my mother for being so selfless that she gave me up so I would have a better life. This is the FOG and man, was I delusional.
I had no idea the psychological toll that pretending to be someone else's child would take on me. I wouldn't start to fully emerge from the fog until I was around forty-eight years old. Forty-eight years before I would finally start to understand the damage dealt to me and the realization that I had a lot of work to do.
So what is the Fog? it's just that. A layer myths, lies and platitudes that are so thick that we are unable to see through it. How am I making my way out? the biggest catalyst for me was finding my father. I wasn't ready for the tidal wave of emotions that crashed into me. I sought out other adoptees and thanks to them, for the first time I realized I wasn't crazy.
You are not alone and I hear you. -- Scott
I am an adoptee that has discovered my roots and biological family, thanks to DNA and lots of digging. I am writing this blog as a way to work through everything that being adopted means to me.