An emotionally available husband, rejections and gastric suffering.
Friday, 02.28.2015 - 12:12 am.

Follow-up to last entry: Andrew kept being in a bad mood. It was weird because he seemed mad at me, mad at everything, and yet on saturday he cleaned up the bathrooms and went out to buy everything I needed for the bachelorette party I was having that night for my friend. He'd volunteered days ago and I appreciated it. So perhaps he was not mad at me but he still seemed to be.

Before that party though, we had an invitation to Andrew's friend and ex-boss's wedding anniversary celebration. I owe this man and his wife a "job offer" they made for me so I could stay in this country. Besides that, they're pretty cool, as individuals and as a couple. They have a beautiful family with four children, adolescents and young adults, very nice and laid back. It was their 25th wedding anniversary and they had the celebration in their backyard, around a bonfire.

They run the ceremony themselves. They said wonderful things about each other and about the friends and family that were sharing this moment with them. Their children talked too. The whole time I was bawling. I was sitting and Andrew was standing a few steps away. In spite of helping me with the errands, he'd been cold and distant since the day before, barely speaking to me.

Then the couple offered tobacco for everybody to hold it in their hand for a few minutes, while they asked us to think of people that mattered to us. Then, the guests, one by one, had to stand up and throw their handful of tobacco into the bonfire. I was done and went back to sitting down. I saw Andrew walk by and do his thing, and to my surprise instead of going back to his spot, he sat on the chair next to me, and held my hand, and held me, and I heard him sobbing.

Who knows what went through his mind those 24-ish hours in which he was so distant and yet helpful, but the awful mood went away thanks to this good marriage. While he held me, I felt as though he was silently asking for forgiveness for his behavior, since our friends had also talked about hurting people we love. I don't know. I hope he realized that giving me the cold shoulder was uncalled for (I think?) and that he was sorry, but we didn't talk about it. I was just glad to have him back, and indeed, after that, he was back to being an emotionally available husband.

Oh, and the bachelorette party went great. I think. In the end it was just six of us plus the bride. We just sat around a table and ate and talked and listened to my friend's favorite music, but I know her and she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She was very happy and I for one had fun. I hope everybody else did.

This has been our last week before going back to work. It's been a good, productive month. We didn't go on vacation anywhere but we got a lot of things done, we ran errands, went out for coffee or meals, met with friends, and in general spent a lot of time with each other, which (aside from the aforementioned 24 hours) was always a nice thing. I'm kind of looking forward to getting back to work, since I love my job, but also I'm sorry these days have come to an end.

Mad men was my summer fling. I'm three episodes away from being done with the series so far, in time to wait for the final episodes to air. I wrote a lot. Well...I updated a lot, I created content if you will. It's not anywhere near my goal, but my goal was unattainable to begin with, so I still feel very accomplished on the writing front.

(Come to think of it, the reading front was lacking. Tsk tsk)

Two US universities have written us in the last couple of days. We've been rejected for their PhD programs. On one hand, I saw it coming. You know I knew we were not good enough. We were rejected at Massachusetts and Minnesota (UM); the first one was the one we really, really wanted and the second one was cool, but also I wanted to live in the same city as my good friend Angie. That dream is over. I say nothing is lost, though, because I didn't even allow myself to fantasize about how life would be there for us. But we did love those programs and if we went through the hassle of preparing the applications is because we wanted to go there.

So, on the other hand, it stings. I was twice rejected for the Fulbright scholarship for master studies. In the end, my life quite possibly turned out to be much better because of those rejections, since they made me come south. But still, the ego hurts. Since I was a teenager it's been a dream of mine to study in the States, but I guess that's just not for me. I'm not what the US universities and scholarships are looking for.

There's one thing about UM: only I have gotten the rejection letter. From UMass, Andrew and I got the decision letter at the same time. Andrew hasn't heard from UM so I think, maybe...maybe he'll make it. That'd be wonderful. It only takes one of us to get accepted to get things going, to pack up our bags (and cats) and leave. We agreed on it. And we're still waiting to hear from Cornell but that one's not happening either: it had the highest ranking from the three we applied to.

Thus...we've turned our eyes to England. Sheffield and we'll see what else. Andrew's once best friend and his wife came back last year from their PhD studies there. The entry requirements are significantly less complicated, and perhaps with this guy's guidance, we'd know who to talk to. It hurts, yes, it hurts leaving my family behind in another continent but Andrew and I want this. Individually and as a couple. And I know that, long before he met me, his dream was to study in England, so we should give it a shot. And if it doesn't work out, there's always next year to try again.

One more thing: I got my test results back. I'm seeing the doctor next week for a more comprehensive reading but seems I have nothing. What I could understand, I looked it up. I have a parasite that the whole world has and horrible meteorism that made the echotomography very difficult for the doctor to perform. I'm sure my doctor will tell me more and hopefully find a way to control it.

I've felt bad every day this month because of it. Every meal, no matter the ingredients, bloats me and has me gurgling and burping and gagging afterwards. I'm very sad and frustrated, and now I pretty much live in abdominal pain. Once I read that Freud said "when a tooth hurts, the Ego resides in the tooth". I read it in Spanish, from someone saying Freud said it, so I don't really know how the original goes. But it's one of my favorites quotes, on account of being true. My stomach hurts and malfunctions, and my life has revolved around that. It's been terrible.

I haven't truly enjoyed a meal in over a month. I'm either scared of the outcome or it makes me sick right away. I stay away from dairy and eat smaller portions. Andrew has been rooting for me, keeping me company on my new diet (though he knows he's free to eat whatever he wants and does so) and finding alternatives for ingredientes and meals. We've started going to the farmer's market instead of the supermarket, to buy more and fresher vegetables and fruits. He tries to console me and cheer me up.

All that doesn't make a difference though. I'm still bloated and I still stick my toothbrush down my throat almost after every meal, just to get the air out, often loudly; you can bet I'll go do that once I'm done with this entry. The doctor has some meds waiting to be prescribed, and we'll discuss that next time we meet (on tuesday) but all I've read emphasizes the importance of food and diet. And the conclusion I reached? All foods will make me sick. Every damn thing is good for one symptom and bad for another one. It's a functional thing all over my digestive system, from start to finish (irritable bowel and colon syndromes added) without organic explanation.

I need badly to get back on my feet, financially, to start therapy.

Maybe when I return to work on monday, this will go away, at least in part. I could use being distracted from my own body. It worked today for a little while. I don't know if that would be a real solution but I'd love to crave and enjoy food again. I don't even do that anymore. I fear eating, for God's sake, and I just wish I stopped being hungry.

On such a sad note, this entry comes to an end.

(Oh, hey, I started writing this on the 27th but it's past midnight. It's Joseph's birthday today. He's, what, 34, 35? I'm still that person that isn't capable of wishing him anything. But hey, that means I don't wish him ill either)

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