Christina Update #7: Good-bye to Independence?

It’s warming up. Christina will be leaving Mexico and returning to New Hampshire in a month or two. Her stay this winter has been an experiment to determine whether being warm in San Pancho instead of freezing in NH would bring some healing to her body, mind, and spirit. 

Although the result was heartbreaking, the experiment was a success: Christina found out that living alone without support no longer works for her. 

She is now sadly contemplating her exit. How to say good-bye forever to her independent life and her friends in her beloved village. What to sell. What to give away. What to take home. How to get all this done.

Selling all my athletic gear is really heartbreaking. I can’t believe I’m doing it. Another level of torture. Definitely hard to sell the hair salon stuff and my running shoes. So many good memories, like running through the jungle. I was sitting outside and Maria from the restaurant saw me and said, “I remember when you first came here and you were so healthy – you were always running and happy” and I was like “Oh my God, don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.”

My prayer for Christina is that she will have support, privacy, comfort, safety, and love when she returns home. 

In the past, when living in her parents’ home for only three or four months at a time, Christina has enjoyed love, safety, and support there. But living with them during most of 2020 was challenging. She has discovered that she needs more in the way of comfort and privacy. She is also coming to the realization that she will need more in the way of support than her parents can provide.

Their house is a small ranch with tiny rooms. It was supposed to be their starter home. The land they're on is good -- big yard. It's very quiet -- almost too quiet, especially for my brain needing some stimulation. 

The porch they redid years ago is now my bedroom and they have made it nice. I have a bed from my ex’s gram. They are trying to empty out the tiny back room for me, that connects to the extra half bath.

I am thankful I have them and that little home. But no. I don't wish to be there forever -- that's for sure. They need their space and routine and so do I. They are simple people with big hearts and try their best but have never been in such a situation before and I see it upsetting them. Like any good parents, they're sad to see me suffer physically and now more, mentally, as I just spin out. And they are grieving. They can't seem to accept what's happening. 

So … I have begun to envision her living in her own place – near family members, but not with them 24/7. I asked for her specific thoughts about this vision. Here is her wish list.

A small dog. Or a cat.

A bathtub or a shower with very hot water that lasts at least 15 minutes. 

Windows that let in light.

A little yard or patio with a bench and a bird feeder.

A living room with seating for four – my two sisters, my bff, and me.

Not on Blueberry Lane – a road of housing hell with weekly ODs and daily cop visits.

Eventually she may gain access to low-income housing. Her current estimate is four years from now. Her sister is helping her work on the application. 

I will need people around for help. The low-income housing would include a nurse and a cleaner and someone to shop for me and bring me to doctors’ appointments. 

Right now, when I think about it, I’m heartbroken. If I get worse, I feel like I’m going to be in a recliner or an electric wheelchair or in my bed. 

I don’t wanna get worse, but my shoulders and knees are loose and keep cracking. I did basic things yesterday and I can’t walk today. I thought of using a cane for the knee I can’t put weight on but then my shoulder keeps sliding over and out and I don’t know how I could even use a cane. Trying not to freak out.

The good thing is more and more landlords are taking state vouchers. So I won't necessarily have to be in a complex.

Feels like going back to NH, I'm losing all my badass. I'm just a NH girl in a slow quiet blah druggy town. Errrrr.

But the nieces are there …

That's life. Maybe I’ll hang out at our two Mexican restaurants.

After Christina leaves Mexico, I will continue to send her a monthly donation along with all your donations. I’m hopeful that, as our little community grows, we’ll be able to provide more each month for Christina’s well-being. Maybe her cozy private apartment in a safe part of town will eventually become a reality. 

Please hold the vision and prayer with me, whether or not you can donate. Our intentions are powerful ...