Practice what you teach

On two levels, I am a teacher. As a psychologist, I help people learn how to cope with their problems and adjust to stressors. As an adjunct professor, I impart knowledge to students (sometimes) thirsty for information. Today, in class, we discussed Health Psychology... specifically, how your body responds to stress and how to appropriately manage stress. One of the topics was the well-researched concept of learned helplessness. Basically, animals and humans sometimes believe that no matter how hard they try and how hard they fight, they will never succeed and they will never progress because they believe they have failed repeatedly. So, eventually, seeing the situation as impossible and unchangeable, they admit defeat. They surrender. They give up.
I believe I am reaching the adoption version of learned helplessness. Shortly after completing my lecture on stress management, I checked my email and received a message from our adoption agency regarding changes in the Chinese government's adoption requirements. They are now requiring that all home studies be Hague accredited. If you recall, our home study (which has taken 6 months- three times longer than normal) is not Hague accredited because we started with Ethiopia, which is a non-Hague country. However, our adoption agency offered to "supervise" the report, which would make everything okie-okie (thanks, mom). However, with the new Chinese requirements, supervision will no longer be sufficient. And what does this mean and how does this apply to us? Well, if our home study is not complete, sent to the adoption agency, and approved by the adoption agency by May 1, 2011, our home study is invalid. INVALID! Six months and $1500 wasted. We will then have to pay another $2000 and wait another 2-6 months to do yet another home study. We would have to start from scratch!
However, like a good teacher, I looked at the problem and I used some positive self-talk, problem-solving, and emotion-focused coping. I told myself, "Our home study is near completion. All she has to do is obtain the last of our background checks, input it into the report, and we're done." I drove home with optimistic thoughts...."This can be done. This is possible. This will work." I arrived home, prepared to send an email to our home study worker, alerting her of the change and the urgency of our situation. I checked the mail and saw an envelope from the PA Department of Public Welfare. I was filled with encouragement. "You see, our PA background checks are here. She can certainly complete this home study in the next 15 days."  Well, apparently, I made a huge error on the background check form. You not only have to list every single home you've lived in since 1975 (and I honestly cannot recall our address in Fairbanks, Alaska when I was an attentive two year old), BUT you also have to document every person you have lived with since 1975. I mistakenly omitted the latter. One would then say, "Easy enough. Just write down everyone's names and resubmit." It took one month for PA to tell us that we erred. What are the chances that they will process the papers, do their search, and send us the approval in half the time?
This is when I became the hypocrite. The mighty psychologist, the intelligent teacher broke down. I cried and sobbed. I shook. My stomach reacted. All of my teachings about stress management and I had reached my breaking point. I have had enough. I'm done. I'm tired.
Eventually, I collected myself and was able to choke down some food and forget my troubles with some television. When Craig returned home from work, I lost my composure again. I started to cry again and told him I was finished. I couldn't keep doing this. I'm tired of trying and trying and trying and not moving forward. I'm frustrated with all the false starts, the artificial hope, the set backs. I'm fed up with each hurdle, one after another.
Countless people have commented on how strong, how resilient, how diligent we are. To go through so much,  to experience so much pain and so much loss, but remain persistent. I am telling you now, that resolve is fast eroding. It hurts too much to give up and accept that this may not occur. I have never admitted defeat and I have no intention to do so now. However, it hurts too much to keep trying. To suffer one blow after another. To experience that heart ache, the disappointment, the anger over and over again. People have limits, physically and emotionally. And I feel as if I have surpassed the threshold of both.