I Believe in Adoption

The Gift of Life

“I didn’t give you the gift of life,

But in my heart I know.

The love I feel is deep and real,

As if it had been so.

For us to have each other

Is like a dream come true!

No, I didn’t give you

The gift of life,

Life gave me the gift of you.”

-Unknown 

This quote from an anonymous poem about adoption is very meaningful to me. As I grew up the poem remained on my mind and has given me inspiration. My name is Rebecca and I was born in Yangjiang, China. When I was about 14 months old my parents adopted me and brought me to the United States. That was in 1997. In the 1990s, over 220,000 children were placed for adoption in the United States. Some of these children were domestically born, some were foreign born, some were young, and some were older. For all these children, including me, life is a lot different than it would have been without adoption. It changes children’s lives forever. 

Kids are put up for adoption for many different reasons. I like to believe that I was put up for adoption as a baby because my biological mother wanted me to have a better life and education than I would have received in China. Other times a child’s family may not have the time, money, or ability to take care of a child. Adoptive parents provide the love, care, and stability that these children need. As the poem says, one mother gives you life and the other lets you experience that life. I know my biological mother loved me because she was willing to place me for adoption so that my adoptive mother and father could have the opportunity to love me and care for me. 

There are many people who ask whether heredity or environment make you who you are. I believe it is a combination of both. My heredity gives me my personality and my appearance, but my environment shapes my thoughts, actions, and character. Adoption didn’t change the fact that I am Chinese; instead it gave me a chance to experience things that I would otherwise not have been able to experience. 

Adoption is not a dirty word, it never was. There is always another way that has a good outcome. Some people have a hard time talking about adoption, but if people know it is a very positive way to form a family, more people might consider it as an option.   

This I believe

 

Twenty-three

As I write my last day of being twenty-two I wanted to share that I am no longer in solid recovery. I’m trying to be vulnerable and honest with those who support me and be honest with myself. Since school had started at Elmhurst College things have been very difficult. Change is difficult. Being vulnerable is extremely difficult. Although my last couple of months being twenty-two hasn’t been sunshine and rainbows ( or butterflies), I still made it to twenty-three. I remember when I was nineteen years old being told that I wasn’t going to survive at the rate I was going in my eating disorder it should have been a wake up call, but it wasn’t until my second time in treatment I really thought about my life and how I wanted to live it. In the past I’ve had good doctors and bad doctors. I remember them both. Unfortunately, the bad doctors I remember most, not only because of their actions, but what they said to me when I was younger. But thanks to them it has pushed me to get out of my comfort zone and push me to try my hardest to get to recovery. Despite all of this, I’m standing a little taller, see a little clearer, and growing a little stronger. 

What I learned this past year was that time is precious. To appreciate where you are today and be thankful for that. Life is too short to waste it on hating yourself. I’m learning that I’m given this life only once, to take care of myself and care for my body the way it should be. There is no “perfect” life, because you’re on your own path and to make the most out of it. To appreciate the people in your life: to not push away the people who are trying to help you. Not to think too hard or too much and to follow your gut instincts. Appreciate your family, you’ll never know how much you miss them until it’s too late. You never really know anything at twenty-two so I doubt I’ll know anything at age twenty-three. Comparing yourself to others is a waste of time, especially the life someone portrays on social media is a BIG one. You can’t compare your life with theirs because it’s a waste of energy trying to compare when you can be happy with how you are now. Enjoy the time to yourself, but also make efforts to meet and make new friends. Try and force yourself out of your comfort zone and you’ll never know what your good at or get to experience. I’m starting to not kill myself over school, that a “B” is still a good grade to get. That I’m not dying over studying 24/7, because in the end it’s not worth it if it’s costing you your health. I’m re-learning this every year: everything happens for a reason. That in the end all that matters is my health and overall well being.  I’ve been really trying to understand and accept that concept, because I used to not think that my health mattered until something happened and it really opened my eyes to what could have been. That secrets make you sick. I’m learning to be a voice. I’ve learned that love is necessary. That loneliness is brutal. Finally as I turn twenty-three I’m so thankful to have the people I have in my life. The ones who have pushed me and never gave up on me.

Finding Myself After Anorexia

Out of my twenty-two years of being here on earth I’m learning that in life we don’t get do-overs. I can’t go back to that day where I threw away my lunch or the day I pushed myself too hard in running and the only thing I can do now is moving forward. I can’t get those years back when I was in the depths of  my eating disorder and all I can do is make the healthy choices right now. I know in reality that my eating disorder can come back and relapse can happen, but the difference is now I know what to look for when I start to go back to my eating disorder. Before I would be blindsided and it would hit me all at once and it would take longer to get back to recovery mode. As I start school in the fall at Elmhurst College I’m taking charge of my recovery by finding a therapist near the campus and making a support system at school. I’m nervous for the school year, because I know my pattern and when school starts I engage in eating disorder behaviors and I get very malnourished. My anxiety steps in and my drive for perfection sets in and things go wrong. That pattern I have to watch out for as I start school, but with the help of my support system I feel more confident with the choices I will make. 

Being in the depths of my eating disorder I forgot who I was and what I believed in. So the question is, how do you return to yourself in a recovered life, if you’ve forgotten who you were in the first place. That has been such a difficult aspect of recovery. Pre-anorexia I was just a silly dreamer and a curious 12 year old who enjoyed being surrounded by family and friends. But after many years spent obsessing over food, over exercising, and trying to reach perfection… I changed as a whole person. I wasn’t the girl who laughed at jokes or saw the beauty in sunsets. I was different. I changed and the question is… did I find myself again? Well to answer that, no I haven’t. I’m still a “work in progress”(Jennifer Wilson quote) and I’m learning who I am, as I am now. The thing is, I’m a whole new person. Whether I like it or not, I’ve changed. 

I can’t get that time back, lost to the eating disorder. But I can choose to make the most of the second chance I’ve been given. The more time and distance between me and the eating disorder, the more I’ll dive headfirst into chasing life again. I’m able to feel my emotions again and learn to accept them as they come. I’m learning to be a voice and not a victim. I lost many years to my eating disorder, but I plan to make some good years because isn’t that what life is about? Having some bad and some good in this lifetime? I’ll take it.     

 

To the Ones who didn’t Graduate on Time

To those who didn’t graduate on time,

You are not behind and you never were. I’m a planner so as a planner I layed out my entire “life” and how it “should” be. That didn’t work out for me, because life threw curve balls at me. When I went away for college as a freshman to Eastern Illinois University I planned on getting a major in Psychology and finishing in 4 years just like the rest of my peers. Life threw a curve ball number 1, I had to leave school because of my eating disorder. Went away to treatment and then came home. I felt like a failure and I didn’t know how to cope with not being at a university. Started school again only at McHenry County College for my first semester I did really well. Then curve ball number 2 came, and I had to leave for treatment again. Came back to MCC and since then I have been in school all year long, no breaks until I get that associate’s degree. Now it’s May of 2019 and I am officially getting my associates degree in arts. After 3 FREAKING YEARS, I’m very proud to say that I did it and I’m 22 years old. My friends are graduating from 4 year universities and at first I felt unaccomplished, because I “should” have gotten my bachelors degree too. What I didn’t realize was that it’s my own journey and it’s my own  time of where I’m at. Not everyone has gone through what I have gone through these past couple of years, but I’m proud to say that I made it.

People can get their degrees at 21 or at 35. Some people found what they love right out of high school and didn’t go to college. I know some people who got married and had children right out of college, but some people had to wait to have children or get married in their 30s. New York is 3 hours ahead of California. But that doesn’t mean California is slow. Someone can become a CEO at 25 or when they turn 50. Everyone in this world works based on their own time zone. People might seem ahead of you, some behind. But everyone is running their own race, in their own time. Life is about waiting for the right time to act. So relax. You’re not late. You’re not early. You are very much on time. Don’t let anyone rush you with their timelines. Because as Einstein said, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that’s counted truly counts.”

Sincerely,

The girl who is on time

 

The Sport I lost to my Eating Disorder

The sport I lost to my eating disorder.     

It’s amazing how much of an impact you once had on my life. In fact, in some ways you still do. Growing up, my whole life revolved around you. Everything I did was based on what time I had to see you. The experiences and memories that I’ve had while committing to you are times I will never forget. I loved the the game for so many reasons: the adrenaline rush when you’re getting your spikes on, running to the line and waiting for the gun go off, hanging out with teammates between races, and of course simply being in the meet. I had everything going for me, but my eating disorder got in the way of the sport I love. My eating disorder has taken a lot from me over the past 8 years. One of those things was running.  

Running has been a part of my life since I was 10 years old. I want it back in my life. It’s been too long and I really miss it. I used to be able to run 3 or more miles without having an issues, but with my eating disorder I have to make sure that my weight is stable, I have medical clearance, and that I had eaten enough fuel in order to go for a run. A lot of steps for just a simple run, but I know it’s necessary. After being diagnosed with anorexia in high school of freshman year, running had become a bigger issue. I would sometimes get to run and other times I had to step back and not run with my team, because I wasn’t medically stable. My eating disorder took me away from my team and meets that I could’ve been in. I missed out on opportunities with running.

After my second relapse with my eating disorder I honestly thought that I would never run again. That this was the universe saying to me, “It’s time to put the shoes down”. That I needed to step away from the track and just watch. I had become more depressed about the situation of relapsing and debating if I should give up the one thing that makes me feel. When it was night and I felt alone, I’d look at old photos and videos of me running with my teammates and it made me question everything I’ve done and gone through if it was all worth in the end. I remember one of my last sessions with my IOP therapist, Ashley, about running. I brought it up one last time with her and she told me, “As long as you have recovery, you’ll have running”. I’ll never forget that statement, because she was right. When I was able to go home I worked my program and tried to add in running. It worked for awhile, but then another relapse happened fall of 2018. I felt defeated. Unaccomplished. Maybe I’m not a normal runner like everyone else and I can’t handle running at all. So I then decided to take another step back from running.    

Helping out my old high school cross country and track team for the past three years have taught me that no matter what I’ll always have running and my team. Being a manager on the girls team has given me opportunities to run a workout by myself and learn how to give support to the girls when they are going through a workout at practice or running at a meet. I’ve enjoyed helping out my old high school team, it’s given me purpose again to the sport that I love. I’m sad that this track season of 2019 will be my last time helping. Like they say, “ All good things must come to an end”. But it’s time to move on to my next adventure.

For now I’ll leave this: Running is a rare gift, it’s hard to find a group of girls and boys who will run 6 days a week and be that dedicated. Running has given me friendships, my teammates shaped me into the person I am today ( as well as my parents). Running made me passionate about something in my life, I have never felt this strong about something in my life such as running. Running was there for me when I had nowhere to turn to, a quick long run would clear my mind and for just a moment in time and I knew I could face whatever I was going to face and that it was going to be okay. I’ll leave my shoes in the closet for now, but not at the back of the closet where they will be forgotten. Running will never be forgotten.

xoxo Becca

See you later 21, cause I’m feeling 22

Since I’ve been 21 so much has happened this past year. 1 YEAR, 12 MONTHS, 365 DAYS, 8760 HOURS, 525,600 MINUTES, 31,536,000 SECONDS…. I’m still in school going at my community college near home and I’m soon going to graduate with an associate’s in the arts. I’m looking into transferring to Southern Illinois University of Edwardsville for their undergrad in Psychology and then hopefully get into their Sport Psychology Master’s Program. Normally getting an associates takes two years, but for me it’s taken three years because I left for treatment twice. After my second treatment center I honestly thought that I wasn’t going to be motivated to go back to school. Leaving Eastern Illinois and then leaving McHenry County I felt that school wasn’t going to be a part of my life, but I’m glad I made the choice to talk to an advisor about my options in order to get my associates. I was dreading turning 22, because that meant that I wasn’t going to graduate on time like my friends who are at four year universities and I felt that I would be farther in life. Looking back I realize that taking those two semesters off to get the help I need was truly a good thing for me. I had learned so much during my time in treatment about myself and there are still things that I’m learning along the way. Surprisingly 21 was not that bad of a year, tough but still good. It’s been more than a year and a half since my last treatment center and I’m very proud for staying out of treatment this long. I never thought I could do it, but thanks to my parents, family, friends, and treatment team at home I’ve made it. I’m starting to see the other side of things in terms of recovery and the journey it’s led me on. I’m still skeptical about full recovery, but I do see it in others that I’ve met. I hope to be in their shoes one day.

Here are 21 things I learned so far:

• The people you lose remain a part of you
• When in doubt, just take the next right step
• Don’t compare yourself to others
• Life is NOW
• Vulnerability heals
• Pace yourself
• Perspective is a beautiful thing
• Forgiveness is key
• Live with integrity
• Slow down
• Remain open-minded
• Learn to live with uncertainty
• Take time for yourself
• Accept yourself
• Fight for what you care about
• You’ll never have it all figured out
• Faith is a place of mystery
• You must learn to love yourself first before you love someone else
• We need other people to help us along the way
• Accept the things that I cannot change

I’m ambivalent about what’s coming this next chapter in my life, I know that life happens, but it’s up to me on how I respond to it. Here’s to 22

 

My Path is My Own

This is my first time being in spring semester of college, the last time I was in a spring semester was my senior year of high school. I’m still pretty nervous and wondering when the other shoe will drop on me, but so far it hasn’t. I’ve been doing actually pretty well. I turned around my own relapse I had a few months ago… I never thought that I could do that on my own without having to go back into treatment. I feel that this time around I’m more determined to stay “in recovery”. I want to get my degree of an associate of the arts and then to transfer out to a university. For the first time in a long time, I feel excited about the future. Usually I’m scared of the future and run away from it. This year I brought in the New Years with my friends, instead of being inpatient at a hospital waiting to go to another treatment center. When the clock hit midnight and being surrounded by my best friends I felt this big feeling of relief that left my chest, because I knew I did my best to reach recovery and to not go back into treatment. I’m determined to not let my eating disorder grab ahold of me and to drag me down, but I know that things happen and not everything is perfect. I’m excited that I’m only now 2 semesters away from getting my associates degree and for once I’m proud of myself for sticking it out and coming back to school after having to leave for treatment twice, I still came back to school when I could have quit.

When I went to go and visit my old roommate I was hard on myself for not being a student at EIU. Being back brought back memories of how miserable I was. I was miserable in my eating disorder. Yes I made friends and I had my good grades, but I was killing myself to reach perfection which led me to leave EIU after my first semester. I had a feeling of home when I walked on campus, but I could also see my memories that I had deep in my eating disorder making things much more difficult. I was also thinking about the “what ifs” like what if my eating disorder didn’t get so bad that I didn’t have to leave school and I wondered where I would be at now learning at EIU. Or would I have changed my major if I hadn’t left EIU. This semester I’m going to meet myself where I’m at and accept wherever that may be: no more beating myself up for where I “should” be. There’s no straight and narrow path of success in life: each person has their own path full of twists and turns that create their own version of success. I used to and still do compare myself to my friends about where I’m at compared to them, but I’m learning that I don’t have to be away for school to still be successful, I don’t have to be at a 4 year university to be successful right now, and that I don’t have to be a 3rd year student just like everyone else. I’m learning that  it’s okay that I’m at a 2 year community college, it’s okay that I’m technically in my second year of college and still have two more semesters to go, it’s okay that I still live at home, and that these factors in my life don’t have to define my self worth.  I used to think that I had to be like everyone else right after high school to go to a 4 year university, get an internship, graduate on time, get a job, etc. But my path is still good enough for me and my parents. I’m still in school and I’m looking into transferring schools for the year of 2019. I may be on a different path than everyone else, but that doesn’t mean it’s less than everyone else. 

Sharing the burden 

“No one understands- I feel so alone right now.”

“You’re not- how can I help?”

    Anxiety, depression, eating disorders, PTSD, bipolar, and other mental health cases are conditions faced and experienced every day. Sometimes it shows outwardly, oftentimes privately and inwardly. When it happens, you see the world and interact with it differently. When you voice that perception, as much progress that’s been made in destigmatizing and trying to understand mental health conditions, there’s still that gap between the person experiencing it in the moment, and the person who has not personally dealt with it. Doctors and therapists are key essentials to recovery, but there’s also another key- community. All those “alone” people. While no one person’s story is the same, there are many similarities and “you, too?” moments. Or the “that sounds like me!” The “alone” starts to become the shared and the shared the supported. For the past two years of treatment I have met so many individuals that I have connected with. It’s made my shame and embarrassment get lifted from my shoulders, because everyone else has felt the same way as I have.

There’s this feeling that is hard to explain how human individuals can have such an impact on one another. It’s almost like a drug. The strongest drug for another human being. Knowing that other people have the same thoughts and feelings makes life a little bit easier. I’m not alone in the dark anymore, thinking that there’s something wrong with me. Having mental illness is not taboo anymore, it’s becoming more accepted and talked about that people don’t have to feel alone. When a person knows you understand what they are  feeling, the burden instantly becomes lighter. They know that you’re feeling with them.

Together, we can and will make it through our darkest hours.

Radical acceptance 

During my time in treatment for my eating disorder, I was introduced to a type of therapy known as Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, or DBT. DBT is a type of therapy that centers around the balance of acceptance and change. It can be helpful for those that experience their emotions in an intense way. Throughout this process of behavior modification, DBT aims to help an individual change unhelpful or harmful behaviors, while still choosing to accept themselves and who they are as a person. One of the major concepts taught in DBT is a skill known as radical acceptance. Radical acceptance is meant to help prevent suffering- The idea behind it is that painful events in life are inevitable, but suffering is optional. By refusing to accept our reality when a painful event happens, we cause ourselves further suffering. Just because we choose to accept the reality of the situation does not mean that we like the situation or agree with it. It also doesn’t mean that we have to stay stuck in our current situation, either. We are not choosing to live with it forever- we are simply choosing to accept it as our current circumstances.

When I first heard of radical acceptance, saying that I was highly skeptical of this skill would be the world’s biggest understatement. In fact, I think I actually rolled my eyes at the very idea of accepting anything that I saw as unsatisfactory. Each time going to group for DBT and learning new skills, radical acceptance was very hard for me. However, this is not true. It doesn’t mean that I have to embrace someone who has hurt me or that I have to just “look on the bright side” and find the good in my situation. Even if that reality is difficult and painful, or the complete opposite of what I want, I am merely accepting that it exists and that it is real.

As a perfectionist, I struggle with the idea of accepting anything that I see as less than ideal, or my absolute best. I tend to hold myself to a high standard and feel that I have failed if I do not live up to that particular standard. My initial thoughts after being introduced to this concept ranged from “Why would I accept anything less than perfection?” all the way to “Are these people absolutely out of their minds?!” However, as I began to put some trust in those who were giving me advice and began to open my mind to the idea of radical acceptance.

Radical acceptance is a process. We do not accept something once and then never struggle with negative thoughts or feelings about it again. There may be a situation, object, or relationship in our lives that we must wake up every single day and consciously choose to radically accept. We must remember to be gentle with ourselves during this process. 

Stand by me 

This morning, Facebook decided to remind me of this day three years ago. In the picture I saw some version of myself smiling for the camera – brown eyes, long ombre hair, surrounded with friends. That’s me, right? Technically, yes, but when I look at that picture I didn’t see myself. I see a girl who is drowning in sadness despite the big, toothy smile. I see a hand gripping the railing a little bit too tightly, steadying the girl long enough to pose for a picture. When you are perusing Facebook and you slide your cursor over this picture, yes, my name will show. In some way, I am attached to this girl, but she is not me. I call her Anorexia. I would try, though. I would tell her that she can get better. That I know she reads success stories of individuals who call themselves “recovered”. I know she finds hope in those stories, but truly believes that she is the exception; she will never heal. For a second. Until she realizes she has to go an entire other day living in the exhausting rigidity of her disease.

I would tell her that starving herself will not make the past or the pain go away. But what she is doing is just a bandaid, and it’s not healing any wounds. I would tell her, and this is an important one, that she is not alone. People may hurt her – they may even give up on her – but there are also people who love her. There are people who believe in her and will do anything to help her get better. She just has to believe in herself first. The close relationships I created in treatment I realized used each other to build each other up. I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count on the people who have stood by me through this entire process. The beginning when I first told someone till now. There’s a corky saying, “Everyone comes into your life for a reason; some good and some bad.” It is true, because those who stay make an imprint on those for a lifetime. Being a text away, phone call away, or a flight away gives me comfort. That across the nation I have women who support me and are holding hope for me when I can’t hold hope for myself.

We are not alone. As the classic song says, “when the night has come and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we’ll see, no I won’t be afraid … just as long as you stand, stand by me”.