Follow Your Own Circus - The Tears of a Clown
I've opened up a new blank Gdocs page to write stuff down in preparation for the podcast. But coming up with material for the podcast is taking me in another direction.
I’m wondering, where, and who am I?
When I started this year I thought I was on the scrap heap. I was depressed and closed off, I was a big ball of anxiety and I was going nowhere fast. But now I'm reflecting.
I feel like I've really started to turn it around, I've started the blog, written the book and I’ve been getting more involved in social media, specifically in the adoption community. Being part of this community has opened my eyes to not only myself but adoption trauma also. The people I've come into contact with have really lifted me. You are all amazing people. Thank you so much, I couldn't possibly have gotten to this point without you.
I’ve read and heard such heartfelt accounts of how adoption trauma has affected people across the world, from all walks of life. Yet the thing that always surprises me is how similar our experiences of mental health are. Whether you are from a happy adopted background, or a difficult one. We all get to the same point in our lives.
One of the ways in which our adoptions seem to manifest is in our ability to hold ourselves in high regard or to put it another way low self-esteem. This is the one thing I fight with daily. Writing a book is a very lonely, singular process and it's very easy to convince yourself that what has been written is utter shit! Especially if that writing is about your inner self.
Putting myself out there on the internet, blogging and posting is tough on the old self-esteem glands. To everyone reading and seeing the content you might be forgiven for thinking that I'm very self-assured. I’m not, not in the least.
Everything I do makes me feel like I'm being annoying, moaning about how I am, or I feel like I don't know what I'm talking about. If I listened to these thoughts and believed them, I'd just close my social media accounts, climb back into the box I was living in, and go away.
The person who saw New Year's Day 2023 could never have been able to write a blog about the state of his mental health, let alone be a guest on BBC radio talking about a book!
I guess this going around in my head is making me wonder who I am now. I feel like I’ve started something good for myself and I sense there are changes in me, but what are they? And where are they taking me?
So far, since I've been writing, it's been carrying me along, I’ve just ridden the wave and that's been fine. But now it feels different. I’m now slowing down a bit and looking back at the events this year. I’m becoming proud of the achievements, but anxious too. Vulnerable. It's like I'm waking up after a big night out trying to recollect what happened and why there is a weird stain on my shirt.
There is an ever-growing feeling that I'm standing at a closed door, with my hand on the handle, wondering if I should see if it's locked. If I try it and it is locked, then I’ll just feel stupid. But if the handle turns and the door creaks open, what could possibly be on the other side?
It's as if whatever comes next will require a new Wally, not the stifled one I see in the mirror today, but the more confident Wally, and I'm not even sure he exists quite yet!
When I pluck up the courage to open the door, I get the sense that it's going to take a run up to get across the threshold, I’m not just going to be able to step over. I’m excited and frightened to death, all at the same time.
Being adopted really does make life tricky, especially when that life asks you to promote yourself. It's like standing in front of a crowd of people with a sign saying;
‘This is me, please point out my faults, its fine, I'm expecting you to!’
In essence, what I’m trying to say is that, If you are having huge amounts of self-doubt, pretend you’re not having them and do those things anyway.
Push the fears away, they are not helpful, they come from an ancient time when we had to fight bears and tigers to feed ourselves and we’re not doing that anymore, are we? I mean, opening a can of soup with my old tin opener is likely to cause an injury but it's unlikely to kill me.
Oh, hold on though, if you work at a circus and your job requires you to deal with bears and tigers, please do not, I repeat … DO NOT … take this advice at face value. Bears and tigers can be very dangerous, if your ‘Brian’ says “RUN!” then do exactly that. I don’t want your mauled body on my conscience!
Life is a circus though (mostly). If you're afraid of clowns ... be one!
Photo by Mark Williams on Unsplash
