Christina Update #8: Anticipation (Dread)

I’m feeling very torn and emotional about leaving Mexico. I've been coming here almost nine years. A big chunk of my heart and soul will forever be here. With my growth after leaving an abusive eleven-year relationship to finding plant medicine, a new culture, community, language, and way of living, I feel Mexican.

I feel more active and alive here, as I can hobble down the stairs and make it to my few close friends all within ten minutes. I love the quiet little town and the fruit stand across the street. People watching is great here for me. The children riding their bikes to sunset with their dogs in tow. The surfers zipping by on skateboards holding their surfboard on their way to check how the waves are. The locals going about their daily business always happy, greeting each other as they pass in the street or walk past a shop. They are humble and friendly and I will definitely miss all of that human connection. 

As I can’t do activities anymore like before, like walking the beach, hiking, swimming, or dancing, I keep myself distracted or occupied with small adventures, like getting one item at a little shop and another item passing by another place. The town’s small and I’m at a good location, so I can’t leave the house without seeing familiar faces—locals or expats—who wave from across the street and smile or pass me in the street and stop for a chat. The human connection is really important to me. I feel isolated many days being unable to join people my age doing things. Or the days I can’t leave bed and I don’t have anyone who is available to visit. 

Having my Canadian friend here staying in my place these past two weeks has been a godsend. She not only has helped me physically but just knowing she’s coming in and out of the house is comforting.  She loves to always be doing things, so I have pushed myself more to go out to eat and show her different little stores nearby. I haven’t had such a super close available friend here, so I have felt less isolated, more “normal” with her here. 

I easily can hurt myself walking in sand. So yesterday when we went to the beach for the magical San Pancho sunset, my one leg was taped for a calf sprain and the other knee wrapped as well. I hate wrapping both, as it causes such a scene sometimes when people who haven’t seen me in a bit say “Oh my gawwwwd!! What happened to your knees!!?” I always have to gauge and think what exactly I’ll say, depending on the person and my relationship, as well as my mood. Many times I just paste a big smile and say “Oh, don’t worry, old injury,” and change the subject. Or I’ll put on the smile and say, “It’s a chronic issue but don’t fret, I’m tough.” 

In summer you are lucky if you have a job working in AC and then go home and turn the AC on. You don’t just hang out in the sun in the street. You go where you need to go and do your errands and find shade or a fan or AC. Many people surf or swim and hike and take off in large groups and go explore nearby beaches in their cars. And for sure it is extra quiet and hot outside. I can feel a bit misplaced. I don’t want to just sit inside and stare at a TV or try to read or draw, which is hard to do without injuring myself from my serious neck instability. If I could do hair like before, summers would be fine, working in AC, being busy and creative, and I could easily pay a Mexican rent.

Still, the town is full of artists and live music and, of course, lots of flowers and greenery year round. And that awesome bright sun shining down most days. During rainy reason the locals and tourists enjoy the storms, which change the pace of the town. Even the birds are quieter. 

San Pancho is just a sweet simple little fishing village that runs on relaxed Mexico time. It has changed over the nine years I’ve been coming here, as it has been discovered. There are pros and cons to this. Pros are more food options, which is huge, especially if you don't have a lot of money. The fruit and vegetables are always in season and less expensive and tastier than in the states. I enjoy walking about fifteen steps to my favorite outdoor veggie place and picking out one onion, tomato, avocado, lime, and some cilantro and walking home and making fresh guacamole. It's something I'm able to do easily and is healthy and gives me a task to help me feel a bit more normal and productive. 

And the people are so kind. I enjoy just walking to a friend's house five minutes away, slow turtle speed, to be gifted a mason jar of fresh coconut water. And having a short visit, petting their animals if they have some, and slowly heading back home. Feeling like I did something, taking a short break and socializing and then going back to my little safe haven.

These are just some of the little things that add up to the magic here. 

But New Hampshire is totally different. In NH, I don't feel I fit in, as I've been away for a long time. Just back in summers for short visits or surgery and to see my doctor and get my medications. This time, I’ll apply for low-income housing and work on getting a disability lawyer to push my odds up a bit to receive some state help. I don't qualify for much — I don't have enough working points, as they call it. Nor am I an elder. I worry about eventually living in the low-income housing, which are all in the bad locations of town. They have bad memories for me. Lots of drugs.

For me, NH seems like a different country, culture, and language from what I’m accustomed to, and will be a different set-up for me. There I only have my parents, sisters, gram, aunt, little nieces, Patti, and my bff. When I arrive, I will again be staying with my parents. I have a room there. My parents’ ranch house is on a back road, with each neighbor with their lot and trees blocking off the property lines. If I was to walk five minutes outside my parents’ house, I would not be getting a smile or wave from anyone. If anything, I have to watch out for the crazies who love to speed down the back roads, as there aren't cops monitoring them.

I could carefully drive ten minutes if I go straight and do my many tricks to avoid pain, such as not making turns or backing out of parking spots. But my area doesn’t have a great downtown with thriving shops and people walking around. And for sure people keep to themselves. People are wandering around are likely to be drug addicts pushing their kids in a carriage in their pajamas, high as a kite. It's very sad to see and the energy always upsets me, as I'm quite sensitive and I take in a lot.

I could write so much more. I could write about my fears of EDS and how will it progress or how long housing at the crack shacks will take, let alone state disability. But my shoulder slid out and in and is swelling and I'm fkn pissed tbh. I have enough other pains today. 

Doing my best.

PS I really want to thank you again, whoever has been following my journey and blog about living with EDS and other chronic illnesses, about daily routines and living and how it is for people like us. I feel really blessed to have a voice here and maybe my story will help other people get out their story too and realize they are not alone. Thank you for reading, for donating, and for caring. The emotional and financial help have been huge for me and for my family.