Wow its been over 6 years since I last posted. Looking back at this blog has been a journey down memory lane. So much has happened since 2013; I barely even recognize 14 year old me.
I'm now 21. I'm proud to say I've been recovered for the past 4 years. I now eat an average of 2500 calories a day without feeling an ounce of guilt. I can't believe 6 years ago, I would break down crying if I ate more than 500 calories a day. It's been quite a journey that I wish I could have shared with you all. But, my journey to recovery was a journey that I had to take by myself.
I moved back to Russia two years ago. I love Canada but I felt so restricted there.
I was a crown ward, living in rural town in Northern Ontario.
Population: 3,500.
I don't know if you've ever lived in a small town before but everyone knows everything. You can't keep a secret. People knew about my history with alcohol abuse, eating disorders, depression, anxiety, and running away. When I moved out of my adoptive parent's house (this was when I was most active on social media), I thought it was going to be a new start. I moved to a town 8 hours south. No one knew me.
Yet, somehow my past followed me there. People soon started to piece together my broken past. It became common knowledge. And, it became so suffocating.
I knew I wanted to move back to Russia. But, I wasn't sure how to do it. I had a Canadian passport but wouldn't I need to get my Russian passport as well? All I knew at the time was that I had to save up money for my trip home. So, I began taking on any and all jobs.
The day I turned 18, I aged out of the foster care system. I hitchhiked for two days to reach Ottawa. Once I got to Ottawa, the first place I visited was the Russian Embassy. I walked in, showed my Canadian passport that proudly displayed by place of birth as 'St Petersburg, Russia', and said in Russian, "I want a Russian passport to go home."
I couldn't produce a Russian birth certificate. I had no idea if I was even still a Russian citizen. All I had was my adoption certificate stating that "James Smith" was adopted from Russia to a Canadian couple.
It took the embassy 5 months to confirm my identity, another 3 months to produce a birth certificate, and another 2 months to issue me a passport. They gave me the choice to go back to my Russian birth name, Alexander Zavrazhnov, or keep my Canadian legal name, James Smith.
I chose neither.
I didn't want to be Sasha, that homeless kid around St Petersburg. Nor, do I want to be James, that weird kid who starved himself.
I had been going by the name Vladik for quite some time and it just felt right. I chose the name Vladimir.
I moved to Russia a few months before I turned 19. I didn't have anything waiting for me back at Russia so I decided to join the military. Conscription is a thing here so to cover myself, I volunteered for service.
Since then, life has been good. More posts to come :)
Cheers all,
Vladik