Who’s Wally? - Adoption, Brian, and Me.

Excerpt from Chapter One - The Missing Allen Key

‘I'm writing these words to help myself. I need to know me. The real me, not the pretend me that so often, is the first person you speak to when you meet me, or at least that's how it feels. 

The real me never feels part of a group, the real me refuses to let people in and runs away, the real me feels like a fraud in almost every situation, and breaks his back to help people or say the right thing just to feel acceptance. Like me, like me, LIKE ME! 

The real me gets depressed, suffers weird moments of anxiety, and hates letting go of the gorilla grip he has on life for fear of losing control. I often feel trapped inside myself, holding myself back and that feeling is almost comforting. Like I'm at a funeral and I can't be seen to be happy for the sake of the other mourners. There’s much more that I’ll hopefully learn as I write. 

I’m adopted. There, I said it! 

After a year of some dark and miserable times, I thought “Wally, enough is enough, this has gone on too long”. I've not thought about being adopted much, it's just something that happened to that child fifty years ago that I feel no connection to, I was wrong.

 Although I feel very little connection with ‘David’ (my birth name), he still plays a very big part in my thinking and decision-making, so I started to look deeper into myself and the effects that adoption has on my tiny adoptee's brain. The more I discovered about adoption and its ‘trauma’, the more I saw it in me.’

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