Lianne (20) was born in China and was adopted by white Dutch parents when she was about 2,5 years old. She grew up as an only child in the Bible Belt, where she was raised with strict traditional Christian values. The Bible Belt is a region stretching from Zeeland to Overijssel and is characterised by its traditional Christian way of life. Within this region, religious values and church attendance play a significant role in daily life.
Discussing one’s mental health is still a taboo in many East and Southeast Asian communities. Many people feel immense pressure to stay strong and keep their emotions to themselves; fearing they might disappoint their family, “lose face”, or become a heavy burden to others. This often leads to mental health struggles, such as depression and suicidal thoughts; often suffering in silence.
In this series, we share the stories of people who have experienced suicidal thoughts or have lost someone to suicide. Their experiences highlight how difficult it can be to talk about these feelings and show the urgent need for more openness and understanding.
By sharing these stories, we hope to break the taboo surrounding mental health and encourage others to seek the help they need, without shame or fear.
Especially within the recent months, Lianne has been struggling with a particular question: “What does faith mean to me?”. This is partly because there are certain prejudices about mental health within her faith community. “There are people who believe that therapy and medication aren’t the right path. They suggest that you should trust in God and that He will help you.”
She believes it’s important to consider the overall context of a person’s life when trying to figure out what the appropriate actions are. What might be helpful for one person may not be for another, so it’s important not to jump to any conclusions.
Lianne’s adoptive parents have a poor relationship with the rest of the family, they hardly keep in touch with them. “But because we went to church, we had a church community we could count on. We’d see them every Sunday and sometimes during the week. But I noticed there was quite a bit of tension within the church when it came to relationships, social pressure. I also think that because it was such a close-knit community, people became too dependent on each other. Because of this, I decided that I would rather not stay in this community anymore.”
“I didn’t, or only in very subtle ways. Around the beginning of this year, I moved out of the family house, and within the past few months I have come to terms with the fact that for my own sake, for where I’m at in life, it was the right time to leave. This time away has given me a lot of insights, including on things related to my adoption. I feel like I need this distance from my old home environment, both mental and physical distance.
When I first moved out, I had little contact with my adoptive parents. I barely saw or spoke to them. Only yesterday, I had a conversation with my adoptive father about my current views on the faith. At first, when they noticed I wasn’t attending ‘our’ church anymore, they just assumed I was going to a different one since I used to in the past. In reality, I haven’t been going to church at all for some time now.”
“I know that my adoptive father strongly believes in God and in a certain idea of what is right and wrong. But I personally have a different, broader view of things now; I don’t believe there is just one truth. So, I’m trying to figure out how it can all still make sense together. The thing is, my adoptive father, as well as the church community my adoptive parents belong to, truly believe that their belief is The truth, that others are wrong. To be fair, I’m explaining this in a very black-and-white way, things are obviously a bit more nuanced, but basically it comes down to this: in a way, I think my adoptive parents ‘judge’ my way of approaching things from a broader perspective because they are convinced they are right. And that does make having a conversation a lot harder. They stick to their own beliefs, and are barely, if at all, open to other ways of thinking.“
“Honestly, my childhood was wonderful. I have a lot of good memories from that time. But when I got older and went to high school, things got harder. Still, only now am I realising how big of an impact my adoption had on me. When I was about 14, I felt it subconsciously. I started noticing that I couldn’t quite ground myself, couldn’t connect. I felt a certain emptiness and loneliness. At the time, I thought it was just part of being a teenager though.”
“For a long time I did, but in the past two years that changed. I think it may have had something to do with the fact that my father was going through a difficult time as well. He was much less emotionally available. I interpreted this as a confirmation that he wouldn’t be there for me, which made me think I could handle things myself. I’ve had this feeling since birth, to be honest. I was given up, raised in an orphanage and then adopted. The idea that I had to do everything on my own took shape then already, and my adoptive father distancing himself only reinforced it.”
“No, even though I know they wanted to. I know they only want what’s best for me, but I don’t feel I have the space, safety and trust to share my struggles and feelings with them.” Lianne also couldn’t talk to friends about her home situation, which left her feeling alone. She expressed she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be able to share everything with someone. Indeed, even though she now has friends who are close to her, she still keeps certain things to herself. As time goes on, however, she notices she is getting better at opening up.
Recently, she even contacted an adoption coach on her own initiative. This has been very helpful to her, but she still doesn’t always share everything. She’s very aware that she’s holding things back, but she’s also unsure if she wants to change that or how she should go about it.
“Two years ago, I was really struggling. With my adoptive father being emotionally absent, a switch literally flipped in me after which I could no longer trust him and felt I had to do everything by myself. During that time, I started experiencing symptoms of depression, asking myself daily what I am doing in this world and why I should continue to live. Two friends I was close with then contacted my GP, which led me to a mental health clinic’s crisis service that very same day.
At the moment, I was suicidal, but deep down I didn’t want to die at all. The pain and darkness I felt at that time were just so immense, I wanted to escape from them. I saw no other way out. I know that there is always light at the end of the tunnel, even if it may take me five good minutes to see it. But in that moment, those five minutes are inconceivable; you just want to step out of life. It’s more about me feeling so desperate and not being able to handle the pain anymore. And I know precisely how the process goes: after each relapse, you fall deeper and deeper into the pit, until you reach a point where you realise that you can’t keep it up any longer. At that moment, quitting life seems like the better option. You don’t want to feel any more pain.”
Lianne has always been philosophising about the meaning of life. She wants more people to talk openly and honestly about suicide, instead of it remaining a taboo. After all, she has herself felt that her thoughts weren’t allowed to exist, making things worse rather than better. In the future, she wants to work in the mental health sector, but right now, she is still exploring her options and is working in health care for people with disabilities.
“I would like to work on more complex diagnoses and requests for help, focusing on multiple issues at the same time. In my own experience, you are often treated based on one diagnosis or request for help at a time; and once they realise there is a combination, getting help becomes very difficult. No actual solutions are offered to these people because they have already been deemed ‘out of treatment’ or it’s too complicated for the caregivers to treat them.”
“Two years ago, at the crisis service of the mental health clinic, I was diagnosed with depression. Looking back now, I realise that I was very quickly given the diagnosis of depression because of my mood swings. But I think the problem was deeper than that. I believe it’s important not to label things too quickly but to look at what the actual request for help is and what is needed to solve that request. It’s crucial to ask: ‘What would help that person in their situation?’ If my situation had been viewed this way, I don’t think I would have been labelled with depression. I wish there would have been more attention to the issues I suffered from surrounding my adoption; I think that was the root cause of why I felt the way I did.”
It took time for Lianne to understand how much her adoption impacted her life. Back then, when her caregivers asked her if her adoption felt relevant to her feelings, she thought it absolutely didn’t. She thought she had processed everything. So, unfortunately, they didn’t delve deeper into the impacts of (her) adoption. Earlier this year, she discovered that she had not processed her struggles surrounding adoption at all. Until a few months ago, she wasn’t even aware of the existence of an adoption community, and she didn’t know what options were available to connect with other adoptees or where she could find help for adoption-related issues. Through the internet, she found an adoption community called Adoptiepedia. This community provides information for Chinese and Taiwanese adoptees regarding racism, mental health, and questions about their identity and roots. Lianne would have found this incredibly valuable if it had been introduced to her at the time she was struggling the most. “Although I may not have been open to it then, I think 16-year-old Lianne would have appreciated that such connections even existed.” Lianne now values the people around her with whom she can share her experiences and finds a lot of recognition and camaraderie in this community.
She still regularly feels a sense of emptiness and loneliness, and wonders what she’s still doing on Earth and what it’s all for. But thanks to Adoptiepedia, she has hope; she wonders what life has in store for her. “The emptiness and loneliness go hand in hand with feelings of hope, and I try to find my way through that. I’ve learnt it’s okay to feel down sometimes but nothing is permanent. Don’t be ashamed to seek help. I started finding joy in small things…like food! I’m now a fan of carpaccio, and I especially want to explore Asian cuisine more. Recently, I tried hotpot, and I loved it; I didn’t have that experience growing up. I also enjoy the realisation that I’m doing things because I want to. For example, next week, I’m spontaneously going to Italy for a week with a friend. I would have never done that before, but now I think it’s wonderful!“
“Stay true to yourself; don’t do something just because other people want you to. Make sure you believe in it yourself. Otherwise, there’s nothing authentic about how you live your life. I find it extremely important to stay close to yourself.”
“That it’s not attention-seeking, it’s not being dramatic, and it’s not selfish. And also that when people tell you to live for them, that’s the whole problem. You’re already doing so much for others and that exhausts you.
The people around me tried to keep me alive; they prohibited certain things, but it only made me feel more pressured. Some people think that my suicidal thoughts would increase if they asked, ‘Do you wish you were dead?’ But making it a topic of discussion actually creates more space to share one’s story without judgement, especially if you have no idea what is really happening.
I find it annoying when people pretend to understand while they really don’t. I would prefer them to be honest with me and say they can’t imagine what I’m going through. A genuine, non-judgmental outreach and a willingness to talk about it would mean a lot. Sometimes it’s enough for people to be willing to listen. In such situations, there isn’t much more that your family and friends can do, but listening can be enough.”
“I wouldn’t say it completely goes away because I believe it’s a matter of ups and downs. Try to live from moment to moment and don’t look too far ahead to next year or next week. Focus on the here and now, do something nice for yourself, and keep your mental state open for discussion with those around you. Make sure to confide in someone you trust and with whom you can share your feelings, and don’t be ashamed to seek help from psychologists and therapists. You are not alone.”
“For anyone struggling with mental health, I know that what I’m saying sounds very cliché and cheesy. Often, ups and downs go hand in hand, sometimes you can experience both at the same time. They can coexist. And that’s okay! It’s your life; you are the author of your own book! If you ever feel the need to, don’t hesitate to reach out to me! Or to someone else you trust.”
Do you need more information about mental health? MIND Korrelatie offers advice, support, and information to people with (early) psychological complaints and their loved ones. Do you or someone you know have suicidal thoughts? Stichting 113 Zelfmoordpreventie is the national organization for suicide prevention. Call 0800-0113 for free or chat with them.
Do you need help or information about cultural adoption? InterCountry Adoptee Voices can assist you.
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