Monday, July 30, 2012

Numb

The human mind can only handle so much before a breakdown occurs.  Whenever something devastating happens, my mind shuts off the outside world to wrap itself in a cocoon of misery.  I experience some of the classic symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; feeling emotionally numb, trouble concentrating, avoiding activities I once enjoyed, and difficulty maintaining relationships.  I suppose that what I was experiencing wasn’t severe enough to be called PTSD, so I was diagnosed with Major Depression, Dysthymia, and GeneralizedAnxiety Disorder.  My first experience was after Alberto’s voluntary departure in October of 2008, and my second round started on Wednesday, July 18th.

I was destroyed, reduced to a pile of fragmented shards by the email informing me of the denial from USICS.  Joelle sent me home, though she wanted to call someone to come get me instead.  She only saw the tattered facade left behind by emotions run amok; she couldn’t see the core of steel, the resolve that was keeping me upright when all I wanted to do was crumble into pieces on the floor.  I left because it was easier to do so, and because I needed Ashley.

I explained what had happened to my parents as best as I was able though I was distraught to say the least.  I couldn’t talk about what would happen next because I didn’t know.  I needed comfort that Ashley was unable to give, so I opted for a distraction instead and we went to the YMCA to go swimming.  I was completely, even blissfully numb by the time we got into the pool.  Every time a thought about immigration surfaced, my mind would make little cement shoes and send the thought to sleep with the fishies.  I existed without emotion and feeling nothing for several days, knowing that Alberto and Ashley needed me to be strong.
 
July 23rd was my meeting with Lance and Graciela to talk options, knowing that it would be left to me to explain everything to Alberto.  I reminded myself that Lance had said ‘options’ as in more than one choice, though they made all be unpleasant.  I arrived early as always, with my heart sheathed in a block of ice, knowing that I would have to say goodbye at least one more time.  My frozen heart couldn’t hold back the tears as Lance laid the options on the table.

1.    Appeal the Denial:  Processing an appeal can take USICS anywhere from 3 months to 2 years.  Alberto would remain in jail, or be deported in the meantime.  Then there was the chance that if he was deported, he would be denied parole if another interview were required.  It would also potentially be the same person reviewing the appeal, and the outcome would be final.

2.    Refile through the Lockbox:  Alberto would leave the country by deportation, which would trigger a 10 year ban.  USICE would not release him to leave on his own dime, and the chances of buying his ticket through the government were slim to none.  The refilling would have to include the I-601 and I-212 waivers with a combined filing fee of $1,170.

3.    Cut our losses and leave the country:  It would take me at least 6 months to a year just to pay off all the debt I have before leaving the US.  Leaving would be giving up, and I need to try one last thing.
 
Alberto and I talked about this as in-depth as one is able to in a 20 minutes video chat.  He will give the government their moment of victory and allow himself to be deported.  This gives us the most options in the end.
 
That brings me to today, the day that the weasel got his way.  Judge Whatshisface wanted to know what we were doing back in court when he told us to just submit the approval by fax so he could terminate the proceedings.  It was almost satisfying to see the judge dumbstruck when Graciela told him we’d been denied.  Imagine that, the judge was actually disgusted by the decision made by USCIS, the governmental branch he works for.  After Alberto conferred briefly with Graciela before stating his wish to be deported, the judge tried to get him to change his mind and appeal.  Maybe if this judge would have had any say in the outcome an appeal would have been the way to go, but unfortunately that’s not the case.  The hearing is over, the decision is final, and my husband will be the next plane to Mexico. 
 
My rights to ‘Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’ have once again been suspended because some asshat doesn’t think I’ve suffered enough.
 
 
 
“The Constitution is not an instrument for the government to restrain the people; it is an instrument for the people to restrain the government – lest it come to dominate out lives and interests.”
Patrick Henry
 
 
 
Ciao
 
 

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