If that's the case then I was in the fog for 40 years.
I was adopted at 5 weeks old, told about with the aid of a story book before my parents adopted a little girl before my second birthday.
We had a good life, lots of love and care. A good adoption.
At 40 I found out that my childhood teddy bear was a gift from my birth mother. My first reaction was curiosity. Sharing this story 4 months later, I flew into a fit of rage directed towards my birth mother.
Since then I've been trying to figure out how to be happy.
Along the way I stumbled across this thing called fog.
My conclusion?
Fog isn't what most people think it is.
I share what I've learned about fog here.
Guests and the host are not (unless mentioned) licensed pscyho-therapists and speak from their own opinion only. Seek qualified advice if you need help.