Some days I wake up and feel so hopeless. Sometimes it seems like nothing I do is worth doing. Why do I have to wash the dishes now? What’s the point in trying to talk to friends? Depression makes you feel like everything is so heavy. It’s hard to describe. I am so harsh on myself that it feels pointless to even try to live a healthy and good life. “If I can’t be the perfect version of myself who has a job/who has already established herself in her field/who has friends who surround her, then why am I trying?” But I know ultimately it’s up to me to decide what’s meaningful. I have to find purpose in my everyday actions. I will clean up. I will write a blog post. I will draw or sew. And although these things don’t necessarily bring me a serotonin boost in the moment, I know that I am going through the motions of life. I am alive. I will keep living.

I still haven’t heard back about the Visa process in Korea. I am getting really anxious. It’s already been 3 weeks. I still have to wait 2 weeks once I get my Visa Issuance Number (VIN). And hagwons in Korea are online or closed at the moment. I feel like a failure in some ways. But I also know none of this is my fault. I have been doing all I can to get my Visa processed. But I keep asking myself if I should apply for other schools just in case. Would it be better to just have more options? But wouldn’t it be bad if the other school does work out? Would it have been a waste of energy? Thinking about it makes me beat myself up.

I also think about the options I’m leaving behind once I go abroad. A lot of internships/fellowships are for recent graduates and if I ever came back and decided to change industries, then my options would be a bit narrower. Then again, I have no idea what I want to end up doing. All I really know is that I liked working with TFA and I like living in a city. One person told me that it isn’t until your 30s that you should have a resume that is more tailored to one industry. I feel like mine is just scattered. Marketing, mentoring/tutoring/teaching, advocacy/non-profit work. And none of my experience was really over a few years. I know that I don’t have to have my life five years down the line figured out to enjoy the present. But I can’t help but worry. Anxiety is also commonly diagnosed alongside depression. The two just bounce off of each other, unfortunately. I’ve been feeling that a lot more recently.

I have been feeling a lot of FOMO lately. Should I open an online art shop/Etsy/Redbubble? Should I invest in a drawing tablet? Would it be worth it? Should I apply for other online jobs right now? I get so overwhelmed with my thoughts that it prevents me from actually taking any action.

My thesis is about adoption literature. Shouldn’t I be excited? But because the focus right now is on children’s picture books, I am having a hard time feeling motivated. I want to write about novels. And if I had another semester, then I would have the time to go through each book and talk about them as much as I wanted to.

I’m having a hard time finding joy in what I originally thought I’d dedicate my life to. No English major I have met has ever chose it because of the money. Or maybe I’m projecting. Choosing English as my major was motivated by a lot of things I didn’t want to acknowledge when I first started college. I’ll list them here to reflect on.

1. I had always turned to books and literature when I needed something to preoccupy myself with when I was younger. When I was lonely or felt disconnected or needed comfort, I turned to a novel.
2. There is an inherent connection to the author, the characters, and their worldviews once you start a book. In my mind, you cannot separate the two. It’s important to acknowledge how the author’s background influences their work. This taught me a lot about how we tend to express ourselves, through both fiction and nonfiction.
3. I received good grades in English. I worked hard because I wanted to do well and get praise for it. Not the most altruistic reason, but it was a motivating factor nonetheless.
4. I always connected with my English teachers the most. They were the ones who were reading my essays, helping me find my voice, and encouraging me that what I had to say mattered. This was a rather naive way of building my self-confidence, but it worked at the time.
5. Books helped me empathize and better understand my own emotions. When you really get into the story, it is impossible to separate your own experiences from what you are reading. Literature forces self-reflection

With my undergrad degree nearly finished, I’ve been disillusioned in some ways. Literature and English will always have a huge role in how I see myself, but I also know that the way literature is taught tends to suck the joy out of it. Close readings cannot begin to cover the impact that literature has on society as a whole. It doesn’t matter how much you delve into each definition of a word if they’re being misconstrued.

These are some questions I’ve been struggling with lately:

• How do we expand the canon being taught? Older, white European, male authors were not the only ones creating important texts throughout history. And during this process of decolonizing syllabi, how do you support teachers/students advocating for marginalized voices to be taught and understood in a culturally competent way? The burnout is very real in advocacy work.
• How do I find joy again in reading without writing academic papers? I feel like a lot of the “rewards” I have been given throughout my time in school had to do with my written analysis. How do I find meaning and joy knowing that a book has changed me when I can’t share it in the same venues that I have before? What are other avenues for me to share my thoughts on? Should I write my book reviews/reflections here? Start another blog?
• Why do I feel the need to share my thoughts on how I read literature? I suppose part of it is that I didn’t grow up with someone who could understand my frustrations with the books we were told to read. I never saw myself or my struggles represented in the curriculum. Sometimes I feel like it’s useless and that the field is oversaturated anyways.

But I suppose we all have to be selfish as we continue living. We all have to take time to think about what is worth doing with our lives. I just get frustrated sometimes when I think about whose lives are prioritized over others.

Halloween won’t be too festive this year, unfortunately. Maybe Kelsey and I will make some pastries or cookies, but we don’t have any big plans. I have a Korean language course I’ll go to in the morning and I’ll probably just work on my internship and homework after that. The Korean language course is very relaxed, but the teacher is nice. He is a Korean adoptee who majored in Chinese, but he also studied abroad in Korea. He lives in the same state I do.

I keep hoping that someday I’ll wake up filled with motivation and the drive to do everything on my to-do list. But that likely won’t happen and I end up being filled with anxiety while I watch YouTube to distract myself. So, I go and do the tasks I need to do, even though I don’t feel like it. The lack of motivation is hard this semester, but I know that I’ll get through it now and in the future. You don’t have to want to do a task to get started on it. You just have to know that it’ll be better for you in the future.

I updated the resources section of the blog with a few accounts I like to watch about financial literacy. It’s not much, but they helped introduce me to things my family didn’t have experience with. The more I think about financial stability the more I worry. I’ve always worried, though. I used to ask my mom every time we went to the grocery store if we had enough money to buy food, even in early elementary school. It’s hard to break out of that money anxiety. But life has to be more than just financial assets and I’m grateful that I have people around me who make me feel secure, regardless of my background. I will be alright.

I keep hearing that undergrad is the most carefree time that people have in their lifetime. That makes me sad, but I also know it’s probably not true. College is not the end of my time laughing with friends or discovering new passions. I think college is so romanticized by the media as a time for new discovery and friends and love. Which it is. But ageism and nostalgia make people reminisce about these days rather than focusing on what they can do in the present.

Obviously having my last semester of college during a pandemic isn’t what I anticipated. But I’m grateful for the 2.5 years I had at my college, the semester I studied abroad, and this semester. It’s hard staying in contact with friends, but I just got off a 4 hour phone call with some girls from my scholarship program. I know that I will always be able to count on them for support and love and friendship. That’s what makes me happy. Even if we don’t talk every day or even every week, I know that there are people who will pick up my call when I need it.

My mom also mentioned that this will be the last few months of us as a family for a while, which hurt. I know my sister is getting ready to apply to graduate school and I am applying for international jobs. I hope that my mom is alright by herself for a while. She has more than enough things to crochet. I think the idea of me leaving and not returning for a longer period of time (like I’m able to do in college) is really apparent to me now. I didn’t have to worry about it so much when I was younger. I knew that my mom would be there when she could.

Growing up means that you also realize your parents were growing older with you. It’s hard to realize when you’re younger, but as I’ve gotten older I have gained a lot of respect for my mom. I may not have communicated it in all the right ways, but she has been through a lot of difficult times and still has managed to keep a roof over our heads. I know that nothing in this life is easy, but I am grateful for all that she has provided my sister and me.

Having health issues come up over and over again throughout my life (whether it be my mom’s or grandmother’s or mine or my sister’s) has made me realize how eerily fragile our bodies are. And it’s scary having to navigate a world that has all the potential to hurt us. But humans are resilient. And maybe it is because of our ability to reminisce that we can form hope for something better. Reflecting on memories of love and compassion and community is important.

I wonder about this a lot. I think about what it would be like to not struggle with clinical anxiety or depression or reactive attachment disorder. I don’t think any of these labels are fixed and everyone who experiences them goes through their own struggles. Lately I’ve been trying to wean myself off antidepressants. But I also know that there isn’t anything inherently wrong with taking them if they really help. I just have been feeling a lot of shame and guilt thinking about how they will affect my future job prospects or professional image and it frustrates me a lot.

I have been on anxiety/depression medication for over half my life at this point. I wrote my first suicide note when I was five and used to tell my mom that I wanted to walk into traffic so that I could be with my grandpa. When I was younger, I think medication was really the only thing that helped me cope with my overwhelming anxiety.

I talked with my mom about how I was and honestly, it makes me sad thinking about any kid having to experience that. I would freak out over any unanticipated change and couldn’t control my panic attacks. I would hide it so well when I was at school or even when I was at therapy. But once my mom filmed my breakdown in the fourth grade, my therapist immediately said that I needed a different medication. My mom says that I became a different kid. She says she feels guilty that if I had been diagnosed earlier I wouldn’t have to go through all the anxiety before. But it’s not her fault. Nobody could have known. I hid it pretty well in public, so nobody suspected how bad it really was. And she had started antidepressants a year before she adopted me. The stigma around mental health has stopped so many people from getting the help they need.

I switched dosages once I got back to the states and consulted my doctor. I mean, I’ve always struggled with depression, but I think I just feel a lot more sleepy now, even when I sleep more than enough. I hope my body adjusts soon.

I’m in a Korean learning class that another adoptee is hosting for free on Zoom. I definitely am a novice and even though I have friends who are native speakers, I worry that I am not good enough to even try. Which defeats the purpose of learning in the first place, but I think I have a fear of just getting things wrong. But the older I get, the more I realize that there isn’t really a “right” way to do things. I feel silly being so scared, but also the fear of misspeaking feels like it will choke me.

Which brings me to my worries about the rest of my life. I don’t know why I’m struggling so much with it right now, but I keep thinking about pension and how it will work when I retire and how my location affects that. Obviously I have a long ways to go before I’m old enough to retire, but I think having my mom reach that age has brought up a lot of questions for me. I’ve been watching a lot of financial literacy videos on YouTube, but sometimes they bring up more questions than answers. I still have student loans to pay off and I know I should save up enough emergency money before I start putting money away for retirement. I’m almost 22 and I wish that I had more of an entrepreneurial spirit. Maybe once I have a stable job I’ll look more seriously for a side-hustle.

Like I said, money has always been a worry in my life. My mom also grew up living from paycheck-to-paycheck, so none of us ever really learned the best financial practices. I know that I have had enough to eat and at least stay with my family. I think just seeing my mom struggle with debt scares me a lot. And I know that my career may change and that will also impact where I end up, what my salary is, and the kind of lifestyle I want. Nothing is ever set in stone and it seems so silly to me that I thought that it was. I wish someone had told me earlier. But at some point it became my own responsibility to teach myself. I’m doing the best I can now.

Here are some things that I’ve been pondering lately:

• How does adoption affect the next generation? Do adoptees who have kids also tend to adopt? I know a few people in Facebook groups have also ended up adopting. Does that help their children sort out their emotions and sense of belonging earlier or just complicate it more?
• How is doing my thesis on adoption affecting my views on adoption? I think I’m getting more frustrated. I think I’ve been getting frustrated about a lot of things lately. There is a lot out of my control and writing an annotated bibliography about adoption books seems so arbitrary. But I also know that books helped me immensely when I was younger. I miss that mindset. Now I feel like I’m bombarded with the knowledge that regardless of what I do outside of reading, I will have to face an unjust world.
• I have to find hope and love in the interactions that I can. Sometimes I look at my family and get so deeply sad that we age and grow and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I wish I could have my mom in my life forever. I wish that my sister and I would always be physically close enough that I could just go to her bedroom and do work. But people move and world events change and we have different desires in life. I just worry so much about losing people and feeling helpless. I know that I have a choice in how I move in this world. Is there a right answer? There’s a stable one. But I don’t want to stay in this small town forever. I don’t think I could stand it.
• Here’s an essay I wrote recently about some works by Audre Lorde and Frantz Fanon. It’s more personal than a usual academic essay, but it’s a glimpse into what I’ve been thinking about lately. It’s not fully formed and I need to go through some edits, but it expresses a lot of my frustrations lately.

“The Uses of the Erotic” dives into the intricacies of how sexuality and the erotic have simultaneously made someone inferior or weaker, while also being suspected of having power to wreak havoc on Western society. Audre Lorde argues that pornography is a “direct denial of the power of the erotic, for it represents the suppression of true feeling” (Lorde, 1978, p. 1). This makes me question the way that we are brought up to believe that women should always be pleasing men. The idea of the housewife and female caretaker are deeply rooted in the denial of a woman’s power. When I was in middle school, one of my teachers said that one of the reasons men have oppressed women for so long is because of their fear. They fear how women can give birth and carry on generations. This idea sticks with me and informs the way that I think about this question. 

It also makes me wonder about those who do sex work or pornography for a living. Isn’t that also a reclamation of power and pleasure? But Lorde depicts how the spiritual world has been flattened to a world of ascetic in pornography, where one “aspires to feel nothing” (Lorde, 1978, p. 3). Or maybe she means that the porn industry has a tendency to reduce people to “objects of satisfaction” rather than imagining them complexly (Lorde, 1978, p. 5). 

Lorde’s definition of erotic is much different than I learned. She believes that we have learned only to view sex as erotic and capitalism has taken away the “erotic power and life appeal and fulfillment” that every day work also has (Lorde, 1978, p. 2). The erotic is not constrained to sexual occasions. It is the “measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings,” which ultimately makes all the things we do on a daily basis worth doing (Lorde, 1978, p. 1). Rather than just getting by and earning wages, the erotic allows us to fully immerse ourselves in our experiences and live uninhibitedly. I have been struggling lately with this idea and Lorde is able to articulate my frustrations with the way the US frames jobs. I aspire to do work that fulfills me and uplifts my community. But oftentimes community work, activism, and work in the education sphere is underfunded, under resourced, and under supported. Get Out and “The Fact of Blackness” also touch on how racial constraints impact one’s ability to be in touch with their eroticism. If we are always struggling to survive, how can we let ourselves experience joy? But Lorde’s definition of the erotic as “creative energy empowered” builds hope in me (Lorde, 1978, p. 3). We are not constrained by a capitalist future because we can build better. I still struggle with thinking about how I, on an individual scale, can do this. Can I really feel like my role as a future teacher will help those around me when I have grown up in a society that primarily rewards capitalism, exploitation, and overworking oneself to keep those in power in power? 

The erotic allows us to connect with people and ease the fear of differences. It reminds us of our capacity to fully express and feel our emotions and that being satisfied and fulfilled is possible by ourselves. One of the quotes that touched me was: “For as we begin to recognize our deepest feelings, we begin to give up, of necessity, being satisfied with suffering and self-negation, and with the numbness which so often seems like their only alternative in our society” (Lorde, 1978, p. 4). Fanon also speaks about how racism creates a world where a Black man cannot just be Black, but must also be “black in relation to the white man” (Fanon, x, p. 83). This ensnares people into boxes that they must define themselves by, a system that imposes itself on the oppressed. Rather than living as a Black individual who must live and find the erotic, now the White man has other expectations that objectify Black bodies. The pain of being stripped of your humanity and compassion runs deep and it hurts the one who dehumanizes you as well. Where is their erotic? 

Cara spoke about how “desire was hard to trust” after seeing family violence and struggling in a capitalist racist patriarchal system (Brown, 2019, p. 2). I think this is something most people have to unravel, especially those who have grown up in a world where they may have been neglected, abused, or abandoned. Fanon said “an anti-Semite is inevitably anti-N****” (Fanon, 2019, p. 92).

As an adoptee, I reflect on my own relationships with friends, families, teachers, etc. and I realize that most of it was motivated by fear. The fear of being not good enough or abandoned again. The fear of being deemed unworthy or miniscule. As I’ve gone through the CSCRE courses in colleges, I’ve done a lot of healing and unlearning. Knowing more about concepts such as Lorde’s definition of eroticism and what it means to be kind to yourself in a trauma-informed way are things that all people should learn. Compassion, fully feeling for and wanting the best for others, and taking action with that, is what I want and what I hope we can come to. This idea is complicated when people fetishize you, tell you to “go back where [you] belong” and mark you out as undeniably inferior (Fanon, 2019, p. 86). 

The idea of saying, “I love myself,” in the mirror holds a lot of shame for me. Like Fanon said, we are told all our lives that we are “hated, despised, detested, not by the neighbor across the street or my cousin on my mother’s side, but by an entire race” (Fanon, 2019, p. 89). It is so powerful that Cara learned from a young age how important self-worth is. I think I have a lot of shame about being an adoptee, someone who grew up with such close proximity to Whiteness, but will never benefit in the same ways from it. I know that I grew up with privileges such as access to a good library, annual dentists’ appointments, and teachers who really cared about my growth. I feel guilty for having this and I wonder how much of it can be labelled as “White guilt” or “proximity-to-whiteness guilt.” I know that I also dealt with the prejudice that Fanon speaks about in “Black Skin, White Masks,” where POC are judged more harshly for their mistakes and taken for granted. 

I especially struggle with this thinking about how international relations work and how I came to the US. There was an abundance of child trafficking, forced sterilizations, and family separation going on in China, which caused the many international adoptions to occur. And it wasn’t until I went abroad to Asia that I started to process this. How does this background affect my erotic power? How do I fully experience my emotions and desire for a better world when I have not yet processed my own trauma and guilt? 

As someone who has struggled with an eating disorder, the idea of “tak[ing] up space, and show[ing] pleasure, show[ing] fear, show[ing] anger” unapologetically is something I also aspire to (Brown, 2019, p. 5). The speaker of “The Fact of Blackness” is “rehabilitated” as he has recognized that he must accept his Blackness and “embrace the world” for he is the world (Fanon, 2019, p. 97). These texts are meant for all marginalized communities and are a culmination of bitterness and resistance against an Empire of White supremacy and capitalism.

So much of my own liberation is due to the work that Black folks have been doing for decades. The interviewer says, “We’re not meant to suffer alone. We’re meant to experience pleasure and togetherness” and that ultimately is what I aim to do (Brown, 2019, p. 7). Through the destruction of systems that demonize or declare marginalized communities as inferior, we have to learn how to build community. I often think about my life philosophy and although it is easy to give into rage and grief, I want to lead with love.

I would like to say that I feel comfortable getting back into a school routine, but I can’t say that I do. Today I led another Asian American Alliance meeting and honestly, I miss seeing my friends so much. I didn’t realize how much I had taken study sessions, platonic cuddling, hugs, and waves in the hallways for granted.

It was so good to laugh with people though. I feel the most at home with a set community and having biweekly meetings is hard, but I also don’t want to put too much pressure on the eboard or gbody members to keep coming when I know remote learning is hard. I’m glad there are new freshmen who attend and a lot of them are actually adoptees as well. I have never met as many Asian adoptees as I have in college. It’s wild. I also discovered someone else in my class is an international adoptee after we shared our stories. For some reason, that’s comforting.

I’ve been staying in with my mom and sister. My sister got a covid test yesterday. I hope everything is alright, but both she and my mom have cold symptoms. It might just be a cold, but she hasn’t gotten her flu shot either. We’ll get the results back soon. Thinking about how much healthcare costs in the US stresses me out. I’ll be under my mom’s insurance until I’m 25, but I should get a stable job that provides good coverage otherwise even going to the dentist will be unimaginably costly.

Remote classes make everything seem so inconsequential. It’s so intangible and I don’t get the same satisfaction of interacting with my peers or professor. I am so motivated by outside validation that being alone with my list of assignments just feels like I’m waiting to be crushed. I’ll get through it. A little over two months.

I’ve been speaking with a lot of recruiters and schools lately. I hope that I can get a job abroad soon. I have a few interviews this week and some next week. My friend, who I had a virtual study session with, said something that really stuck with me. He said that he doesn’t really mind what job he’s doing as long as he has free time to do things that he enjoys outside of it. But I have a hard time thinking like that. I think that’s another reason why I find remote learning so hard. I want everything I do to feel like it has a larger meaning, like I’m making steps towards a better world or that I’m impacting someone positively. And I don’t want to be stuck in a job I dislike just to get to do things I enjoy on the weekends. I want to enjoy all parts of my life. Am I being selfish saying that? Am I being unrealistic? How far in the future should I worry about these things?

I know it’ll be okay eventually. I know that I’ll find a job and have friends and have happy moments wherever I am. It’s okay. I just have to breathe. Talk to people I love. Realize that all life has inherent value.

I hate moving around. And yet, I constantly find myself doing it. My skin is itchy and I have a rash on my back. I feel like I’m allergic to the US. I feel like no matter where I go, I will always end up telling myself that there is nowhere in the world that I belong. But isn’t that such a privilege? To have the time to worry about this? It’s not like I’m rich, but I also don’t have to work 3 or 4 jobs to eat or keep a roof over my head. I struggle with feeling like my emotions are justified.

My thesis for English is on international/interracial adoption and continuing to do research on it has just made me more sensitive, I suppose. I am reading about so many other adoptees and their struggles and their lives and their feelings of racial melancholia. Here are a few articles I really found compelling. The first is more of a narrative approach from a Chinese American adoptee, connecting the author’s own experiences to how she processed Celeste Ng’s novel. The second is by a Korean American adoptee who analyzes three different books on interracial adoption in the US.

I looked up more on the second author and he has a very interesting blog as well. I’ll try to follow him more. He has gone to Ivy Leagues in the US as a first-generation college student, taught abroad in Korea on a Fulbright scholarship, taught himself Korean, and is now hoping to be an English professor. I don’t desire to be a professor, but it makes me feel comforted to know that other adoptees also have found a way to express themselves through literature or reading or writing.

In this transient state of being, what can we grasp onto to keep us motivated? Community is what reading comes down to. The connection between the author and the reader, the reader with other readers, the world with the ideas that books present… There are so many intangible ways that books are able to shape our lives, but the ideas that they foster are seen in very real policy, practice, and actions. It’s rather mind-boggling.

I guess the point of all of this is to say that there will never be a perfect place that I fit in. And the way that I choose to identify or the way that others choose to identify me will always impact that. Literature has been a way to help me understand that in some ways. The loneliness of feeling alone is eased by the words of someone, somewhere, in some distant (or not-so-distant) time. So thanks for being part of my community.

Things that have made me happy lately:

• The warmth of my blankets in bed
• The sound of loved one’s voices on the phone
• Long distance friendships and love
• Being able to cook with my sister
• Professors who are understanding
• Flowers and art

Things that inspire me:

• Travelling with loved ones
• Love in all forms
• Community

It’s hard to see how some of the courses I’m taking right now will relate to my future. I am feeling restless and just want to go back to Korea. I think it’s just hard returning to school after having been off for a while. Especially when I can’t go to study groups or see my professors in person… I’m a very person-oriented thinker and being around others is what motivates me. Being isolated at home isn’t the best for my mental health or motivations. But I know that this will pass. I know that other people are going through similar experiences.

It’s strange. Although I feel disconnected from my friends, sometimes it’s hard for me to reply to them. I just feel exhausted for no reason. I think I need to take time off social media. But that’s also difficult because I look at Facebook for job postings as well. It’s been difficult for me to balance my schoolwork with my desire to just start applying for jobs all day. Imagining the future has been all I do these past few days. Hopefully I can learn to appreciate the moments here as well.

It’s raining here, like always. Being back home and seeing my sister’s dirty dishes and mom’s cluttered workspace gets me upset. I just have to tell myself that I won’t be here forever. I miss having my own space, even if it was just a room. I don’t have anywhere here where I feel at home either. What a strange thing to think about.

When I was at the airport leaving for Korea I remember crying on the phone with my friend. I was questioning why I was even leaving and was so heartbroken over not being able to go to China. And now I’m homesick for a country that I was only in for maybe 7 months. Can I even say homesick? What is another word that encompasses the feeling of yearning for a place that isn’t yours to call home?