Independence Day

This weekend has been interesting to say the least.  On Saturday I got up extra early and hoofed it downtown to see Alberto in Jail.  I arrived at the Jail by 7:10 am and I was in the 3rd person in line.  By 7:30 am the line had grown to over 20 people so I was glad that I was down there early.  I felt guilty about going to visit Alberto without Ashley, but since I had to work afterwards I just couldn’t justify yanking her out of bed and driving an extra 20 miles.  He was so surprised to see me and I was worth it to see the smile wash over his face.  He picked up his phone and told me that when his name was called he was wondering who would be coming here to see him on a Saturday.  I told him that since I couldn’t see him on Monday, I had decided to see if I could get in to see him on Saturday.  We talked about a few different things, but the one topic that sticks in my mind was regarding Ashley. 

I think I mentioned it before that one of my in-laws had started telling Ashley that ‘Chucky’ was hiding in dark rooms waiting to get her.  We think it was little Maria because she seems to be the only one who believes in that still.  I think she is going to be five this year, but with so many nieces and nephews in Alberto’s family it’s amazing that I remember everyone’s name.  Anyway, Ashley finally stopped talking about ‘Chucky’ a few days ago although she still doesn’t want to go into dark rooms alone.  Instead now she talks to me every night about monsters.  Dios mio Ashley, you don’t want to go around thinking about monsters every night or you’ll end up just like your pobre Mamí. 

I don’t remember a specific fear that I had as a child, but I do remember the nightly rituals that were supposed to protect me for the monsters in my closet and under my bed.  Early in the evening I would investigate my close fully and then tie the doors shut with the belt from my bathrobe.  My next chore was making sure my escape route was secured, which involved tucking a blanket between the mattress and box spring to cover the gap under my bed so the monsters couldn’t see my feet.  I then took exactly seven stuffed animals and placed them on my bed as decoys. The worst part is that I only got more irrational as I got older until we got a dog that slept in my room.  I want to say I was at least 10 at the time although I honestly don’t remember when we got Molly.  And we’re moving on so I don’t have issues going to bed tonight!

I have been suffering from physical manifestations of stress all weekend.  I started eating Rolaids again for the first time since January of 2009.  I used to get heartburn so badly that I would have to take Pepcid AC for months just to get some relief.  Looking back I wonder if I possibly had an ulcer near the end of 2008, but I think that if it was an ulcer I would have eventually gone to see a doctor.  My triggers are greasy food and stress.  Spicy food doesn’t bother me at all, but give me a quarter pounder with cheese and within 30 minutes I’ll be reaching for a roll.  Another more concerning manifestation of stress is when my right arm becomes painful and begins to feel almost numb.  My trapezius and deltoid on the right side become so tight and knotted that it affects my circulation which causes the discomfort.  A few weeks ago I had a facial at a new salon, and we were chatting when the esthetician asked about my husband since I mentioned I was married.  She said that the muscles in my shoulder area went from relaxed to a knotted mess in a matter of minutes which is apparently not a good thing and she had never seen that happen before.  At least I had the opportunity to discuss some of these things with my psychiatrist last Tuesday and she was of the opinion that this was normal for me.  Apparently it’s also normal that I flip out on people when I’ve beyond my normal stress tolerance.

I keep telling myself all the time that I just need to be patient, however I have discovered that patience is not my strong point.  It’s is so hard to be patient and to wait and see when it feel like this is our life on trial.  I want my husband back.  I want him to be here with his daughter and enjoy her.  I want to move out of my parent’s house and just have the three of us together.  I want the opportunity to go back to school and get an education.  I want so many things that are riding on what seems like the flip of a coin.  Friday is court again, and Brian says the hearing will be short.  Alberto will not need to be prepped, but Brian will visit him prior to the hearing to put his mind at ease.  So far Brian has not told me that I should not or could not go to the hearing, so I will be in my suit and ready to go on Friday morning.  May God give me the strength to hold myself together in the court room, I couldn’t bear it if Alberto were to see me cry.  I need to be strong and in control of myself. 

Saturday I at least got to have a pedicure with Lizzy, which was a tremendous help.  It really helps for me to be able to sit down and talk to someone who doesn’t require explanations about the inner workings of the Mexican mind.  She has to deal with the same bull I was trying to get through with my husband a few years ago. 

Sunday was basically a wash, and Monday was dominated by painting the shed.  I spent the greater part of the afternoon on a 6 foot ladder that was positioned on uneven ground.  I suppose it was better me than Alberto since he’s afraid of heights. 

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”
Theodore Roosevelt

Ciao

Spanish words/phrases from this post:

Dios mio:  My God

Pobre:  Poor