Where Am I? What Happened?

Where Am I? What Happened?

Last days in Cape Town

That Wednesday morning of March 2nd of 2016, Gary arrived to the workshop significantly earlier than usual. He is also of the night owl kind. Alia had told me he would normally go to bed around 4-5am in the morning, just before it was time for Monica to get up to go to work. He would then sleep until around 11am, arrived at the workshop around 1-2pm and work until 6-7pm. However, that morning he had to get up early to take Alia to the airport. After dropping her off, he did not have anything better to do than to go to the workshop for work.

That was also my last day at the workshop. During the last several days my scientific mind had been extremely busy trying to make any sense of Alia's behavior and actions, and struggling to decipher the true reasons that had produced them. One of the issues that kept me really confused was the story of Alia's attempt of suicide: as hard as I tried, I just could not fit the pieces together. Now, Alia had actually never said anything about it. Rather, it had been Gary who had told me, in a way to caution me against giving her grief for leaving me stranded on the beach. With Alia now gone and given that once I leave the workshop I would no longer be able to have a deep conversation with Gary, I thought I would take the chance to ask him some questions, hoping he would shed some light on what exactly had happened. Unfortunately, Gary's vague and hesitant answers did not do anything to quiet my concerns. It turned out Gary barely knew anything about it. I had thought it had happened at his home, but that was not the case. Gary's narrative sounded rather incredible. According to him, Alia never told them (Gary and Monica) she had arrived to their home. Rather, as it was getting late that Sunday evening and she was nowhere to be found, he went to check the data of our GPS tracker. Supposedly, that is when he realized that Alia remained parked just next to their home. He then went to search for her to find her totally depressed. Still according to Gary, Alia did not want to tell him anything about what had happened; but she was very embarrassed and kept apologizing for the mess she had caused in the workshop, before driving to their house. When Gary finally called Andre at the workshop the next morning, Andre told him there was a lot of blood... However, Alia did not have any wound, so I do not know where all that blood could have come from. Neither had we been using the GPS trackers in Cape Town for a long time already. Clearly, there was not much useful information on that topic, that I was going to be able to get from Gary. Rather, I was just left to extract my own conclusions about the whole matter.

Gary soon diverted the conversation into a different topic: he wanted to share with me his view on the crisis and break-up between Alia and me. Of course he was going to be very harsh on Alia and very understanding with me. Without a doubt, Gary is a total hypocrite. As you talked to him, from the very first moment you meet him, he seems a really friendly and charming man. That, however, will only last until you turn around and then soon feel how he thrusts his dagger deep into your back. What amazes me, what I will never be able to understand, however, is that he would not even try, he would not even bother to hide it...! Indeed you do not need to feel his dagger to figure him out; he would backstab anybody and he would not have any shame to do it in plain view. Thus, giving you the chance to realize that he generally does not mean all those friendly and nice words he has for his listener. The wake-up call for me was Andre: watching Gary's interactions with Andre, I had thought they were really good friends. Only until Andre would take off and then Gary would start talking all sorts of shit about 'his friend'.. I need to admit Gary is not the first person for whom I have observed this kind of behavior; rather, I can think of many other: Robyn, for example! For the life of me, I will never get it: what is the point of being such an obvious hypocrite?, what is the point of lying if, at the same time, you expose your lie so blatantly? It is just plain stupid! You do not only actually reveal the crude reality to your listener; but she now also figured that you are an hypocrite and a liar.

Gary was always very friendly to me; however, I know that what he would say to Alia about me, when I was not around, was not quite as nice. Then, all compliments would go for Alia, while he would wonder what qualities she had seen in me to marry me. However, now that Alia was gone and it was only me left in the workshop, Gary would quickly switch sides. Now Gary did not understand Alia's very immature behavior. As I was not sure what exactly he was refering to, he pointed out how Alia would go in one minute from being really sweet to me, to all of a sudden start screaming at me, and yet, shortly later still break down in tears. Gary complained how Alia had spent the previous evening crying in her bedroom. Moreover, Gary remarked Alia was probably polar and he had even pointed that out to Robyn. That kind of stroke me, so he insisted, that he had talked with Robyn over Skype and had adviced her to take Alia to a psychiatrist. I could not help to wonder, what Robyn may have thought and how she may have taken the guidance of this man, suggesting her perfect daughter was mentally ill. . According to Gary, Robyn listened to his advice and said she would take Alia to a psychiatrist. "yeah, right...", I thought. 

Now that Gary was analyzing everybody's personality, he also had some words for Robyn. Gary could not believe how a parent would not only not reprimand her teenage daughter for doing drugs; but would even join her and do drugs with her! As much as I may hate to admit it, I just could not agree more with that statement and certainly enjoyed hearing it... Although, perhaps, that was exactly the reason why he had said it in the first place. As a matter of fact, it was an irony that Gary would opine something like that, considering that he had just brought Alia back into smoking and marijuana. Indeed, Alia had quit smoking and doing any drugs when she met me. But one week at Gary's was enough to see her again with a cigarette in her hand.   

For some reason, it seems like I will never be able to cut off anybody. Thus, I remained there way too long talking with Gary, until it became too late. Jill had told me the truck would arrive at 1pm to pick me and the Land Rover up. I finally interrupted Gary to point out I really had to get ready. I was freaking out, because I still had a lot of packing to do. Fortunately the truck was late and I got about an hour extra. Yet, that was still not enough. I still had to bring a few things out, when it arrived. The truck was actually a real monster: it seemed more like an oil tanker. The truckers proceeded to load the Land Rover and that gave me a bit more time; but it still did not do it. The truckers were growing unpatient. They could not understand How I was not ready. They gave me a final warning: they could not wait anymore, they had to go. So, if I was not ready and did not jump in, they would leave without me. I had to throw everything inside the Land Rover, hope I was not missing anything, and get into the truck. The driver closed the door, started up the engine and, at last, we took off. After six weeks, I was finally leaving behind that workshop hell that had killed our marriage.

I tried to take a deep breth: we had a long ride ahead, of at least one hour. I was very stressed worried I might have forgotten anything. However, I had to accept that, if that had been the case, now it was already too late: there was no coming back... I was sweating profusely;  probably because of all the stress, although the intense South African late-summer midday heat certainly also contributed to it. I was exhaustedd. I was actually about to collapse; but more than anything, my mind was about to explode. As we were slowly leaving the workshop behind and I was starting to cool off and settle, all the memories of those last six weeks at the workshop were unceasingly and frantically  running through my mind, in a similar fashion to how the images of the surrounding landscape were passing by, as the truck was making its way through the countryside towards the Backberg's farm. My head was definitely in total chaos and, as hard as I tried, I just could not start finding any coherence. I think it would be fair to say I was in shock. Moreover, I am not even sure to what extend  I could still today convincingly argue that, five years later, I have finally been able to fully overcome that state of shock. Well, just two months earlier we had arrived to Cape Town totally euphoric. We were on the top of the world. We were so very happy of our success; so proud we had made it. We were so excited about what we had ahead. Indded, the best was still to come; we had always knew the way South across Western Africa was the hard part and the fun part was only beginning. As countries in Eastern Africa are generally more touristy, we would not have to struggle with visas that much anymore (and visas had become a nightmare and really stressed us out in some Western African countries like Nigeria, Republic of Congo and Angola). Better yet, the great African national parks and safaris were now at the reach of our fingertips: Kruger National Park, Serengeti National Park, Mt. Kilimanjaro, Victoria Falls, Lake Tanganyika, Lake Victoria, etc. were all waiting for us! Moreover, we were going to be able to visit all these places at the freedom and convenience of our own 4x4, now fully equipped with a rooftop tent, a car freezer, solar panels, etc. We were the happiest people on the face of the planet. If not the perfect couple, we were certainly everybody's inspiration (unfortunately, in some cases, also some people's envy...). We were having the time of our life and were only thinking to make it even better. We were even planning to go to Madagascar, Mauritius or Seychelle Islands!

There was only one thing of concern: in February it would be one year since my departure from the U.S.. With that I was taking a real risk of losing my green card. It is U.S. Immigration understanding that a U.S. resident who chooses to remain one full year outside of the country, is not showing much desire to reside in the U.S., as he stated when he applied for permanent residency. Hence, unless he is able to come up with a really good explanation, he shall have his green card revoked. Yikes! It had only been wise to take a little break and fly back to the U.S. just before the one-year deadline. The benefits had been endless: it had not only saved me a lot of problems and serious complications in my U.S. immigration record; but we had also made some very good use of a break: we certainly needed a bit of rest, and some weeks relaxing in Montana had been really good. It had also given us the chance to bring back some stuff that we did not need in Africa anymore, while (back in the U.S.) we could have got some new supplies of some other stuff that is hard to find in Africa. At some point I even had the thought that it would be a good idea to fly to Spain to visit my ophthalmologist and check on my eyes. Of course, the biggest benefit of all remained unknown to us back then: if we had returned back home, even if it had been for just a few weeks, that would have got Gary off of Alia for at least a while and that  had probably saved our marriage.

Needless to say, we never bother to go through the trouble of organizing a trip back home. Logically thinking, there was a really good reason why I had stayed for so long outside the U.S.: we were still young and we just wanted to see the world before settling down back home and build a family. Furthermore, in order to get my green card we had gone through a lot of trouble that also demanded many resources from the U.S. Administration. If my green card was to be revoked, they could be sure we were going to apply for it again; thus, the U.S. Administration would need to devote once more many resources to process our application. Clearly, from a practical standpoint, it then did not make much sense to revoke my green card. Consequently, we slowly settle down on the notion that there was not a good reason to fear about my green card and, so, never were able to find enough motivation to bother organizing a trip back home, but unconsciously let the idea drift away.

   

With our worries set aside, it was time to let loose our dreams and imagination. Now that we were deep in Africa, had our own overlanding vehicle and had so much time in our hands, we might as well want to grasp the opportunity and go all the way to India. Alia loved the idea of traveling across a country of such rich culture as India. But, if we were going to be able to make it to India with our Land Rover, then our options would be endless: sky was the limit! Southeastern Asia lied just one step further. China seemed complicated to freely tour off the radar of Chinese authorities, but back then we struggled thinking there was anything that could stop us. Eventually we could settle in some place for a while. If there was reliable internet connection, we could even do some work, while we enjoy the easy life at some paradise beach, until we were ready to move on and go again discover new lands. We even had a plan for the day that we would be ready to call it good and settle down to build a family. We were still thinking to move to Hawaii and live there next to some beach. We were definitely going to bring the Land Rover with us, so that we can place the children inside and take them for some trips and some camping. 

Needless to say, nothing of that ever came to fruition (well, except for the rooftop tent, the car freezer and the solar panels...). Instead, everything blew up: Just this morning Alia had taken this flight back to Montana, while me and the Land Rover were now being carried to some farm in the outskirts of Cape Town. How on Earth did that happened???!! For the life of me, I just could not make any sense out of it. No shit I was in shock! Well, if only that had been the question for me. Rather, the question that has been killing me all since then and is still to the day torturing me is one far more hurtful. Namely, how did I allow it to happen?!! Yes, indeed, how the heck one day after another, one event after another went by just before my nose, leading me to such a tragic outcome, and I did absolutely nothing to stop it?!! Over the last five years I have asked myself this question like a million times and the more I do it, the less I am able to find a satisfactory answer. As this account clearly shows, the more I think of it, the more opportunities I find where I could have changed the course of events and avoid such a disaster. As a matter of fact, I can even remember several instances back in Cape Town, where I thought to say something. I was so close! Indeed, from the very first day we met Gary, I had noticed Alia's fascination for him. I so did think several times to ask her, if, perhaps, she was allowing her feelings for Gary to go a little too far. However, I knew that was almost certain to cause a conflict. Alia did not appreciate to be questioned and generally reacted with wrath to such an offense. Undoubtedly, Alia was cursed; Robyn had cursed her. Indeed, Robyn had taken care of every detail; she had perfectly programmed her daughter, so that she would unavoidably fail in any relationship she ever try to keep with any other person, but her mother. Indeed, it was rather difficult to establish with Alia some honest communication aimed to resolve a touchy issue. At the end of the day, I could have never imagine that Alia would be so stupid to follow through. Thus, why unnecessarily cause a conflict? Rather, it was wiser to just let it go. Today, however, that does not even come close to a satisfactory answer: it is so wrong! Indeed, Alia was not allowing her feelings to go too far; rather, she had just lost control over them altogether, stupid! Yet, I do believe Alia had been able to react, if I had thrown her a life-jacket. If I think over our conversations during those days, I do believe Alia could feel she was going down the drain. I think her pauses while she was speaking reveal her struggles and hesitation. She felt an irresistible attraction for Gary, but knew it would be a terrible mistake to break her marriage. Instinctively she tried to conceal her feelings towards Gary, but I believe that at the same time she was hoping that I would find out, or at least get a hint of, so that I would put an end to Gary's conspiracy. Contrary to what I thought in Cape Town, now I believe Alia had caught on, if I had said something.. As much as I know Alia, I do think that Alia, perhaps after some initial adverse reaction, had desperately asked for help. It really kills me to think how such a tiny move may have changed everything; how just a few words may have saved our marriage.

    

It then should not come to anybody's surprise that after the events in Cape Town I fell into a deep depression, which still to the day I have not been able to completely overcome. Like an angry parlament to an incompetent president, depression is my brain's natural reaction to my consciousness total failure managing the crucial challenge in Cape Town. Depression is a deeply misunderstood phenomenon in modern medicine. Depression is to the individual's behavior what physical pain is to body tissues. While it is reasonable and understandable to inhibit constant pain, it is generally not such a good idea to suppress any pain altogether. After all, physical pain is the organism's natural reaction to a potential threat to our health, aimed to attract our consciousness' attention, so that some coordinated, high-level response can be exerted upon said threat. For example, thanks to the pain we feel every time we get bitten by some insect, we keep fighting them off. In the same way, depression is our brain's natural reaction to a perception that our consciousness is not managing a challenge correctly. I then believe depression's main function is to enforce and set the conditions to strengthen learning from an adverse outcome. In other words, depression is the means, whereby our brain demands from our consciousness a change of course. Again, we really need to combat the dead-wrong notion that our consciousness is the brightest light in our brain and the crest of our intelligence. If anything at all, it would be quite the opposite: remember Mr. President? This is so much so that our brain does not trust our consciousness with just about anything. Rather, like Mr. President's, our consciousness' powers are restricted by our brain's unconscious levels. This is necessary to keep us safe from disaster. An easy test would show this point very clearly. Next time you stand in the shower, as the water falls on your face try to look up and open your eyes. Since our consciousness has power over our eye-lids muscles, you will not expect to find any difficulty doing so. Yet, you will fall in the deepest frustration as your eyes simply refuse to open and you realize your total impotence to make them comply. Well, if by any chance you are able to open your eyes, let me tell you, there is something really wrong about your brain. Indeed, there is something really stupid about opening one's eyes while they are being hit by something. You may argue that it is just water and it will not cause any harm; but your unconsciousness does not get into that level of detail. Like a good mother, it just knows it is not a good idea, so just don't do it! Now, if you play stupid child and insist to disobey, your mother will come and do whatever is necessary to stop you. In a similar way, as hard as you may try to open your eyes while water is falling on them, your brain is not going to allow you. You may think your consciousness controls your eye lids; but, fortunately, your unconsciousness has overriding powers over them. 

Fact of the matter is that since beginning of time, throughout endless generations, evolution  tried pretty much every possible alternative. We can then feel rather certain that in the past there have been individuals, who were actually able to open their eyes while something was hitting them. But those individuals, evidently, did not make it very far, since, sooner or later, that ability did not turn out very well for them. One day, sooner or later, since they insisted to keep their eyes open (and therefore exposed and unprotected) while something was hitting them, eventually they became visually impared and their chances to survive and have any offspring dropped dramatically. The bottomline is that mother nature and her laws are way, way smarter than our consciousness. Now, our unconsciousness is the guardian of all that wisdom, as it was slowly accumulated over endless generations.

Throughout our lives, on a daily basis, we keep making poor choices and taking bad decisions. That is, our consciousness is constantly making bad choices for us. We generally spend excessive energies, time and resources on certain matters, while we neglect others. I find that, particularly these days, we usually guide our actions by immediate reward and neglect consideration of the big picture. Oh well, whatever it is, eventually we suffer the consequences of our bad choices: we lose a job, we fall ill, we lose a friend or, even worse, the love of the most important person in our life. We then feel sad and depressed. When that happens, it seems to me that, for some reason, in the present days, we never find time to consider if perhaps there is something that we are doing wrong. Yet, that is exactly the message that our unconsciousness is trying to convey with depression to our consciousness. Clearly, if we are never ready to reconsider our actions and admit mistakes, we will never be able to learn from them and will therefore be bound to repeat them over and over again. I therefore believe it is a mistake to exclusively view depression as an illness that needs to be shut off and eliminated; but it is useful to also understand it as a signal demanding from our consciousness  a change of course, given that the current strategy is producing disastrous results. 

I need to be here, however, very careful, because undeniably depression is a serious threat of total self-destruction. As a matter of fact, depression is purely a destructive form of criticism. Indeed, it does not come with any kind of insight on how our behavior should be modified in order to improve the outcome. Rather, it's mere concern is a cold acknowledgment that life is severely going downhill. As such, depression is hurtful; very hurtful. It is therefore understandable that we perceive it negatively.

Our general inability to understand depression as a demand to reconsider our strategy, is particularly reasonable, when our misfortune cannot be sensibly atributed to our bad judgements. Then, depression really does not help; but it is likely to make matters even worse, as one gets inclined to punish oneself even further. As I was sitting in that truck on my way to the Backberg's winery, I could not, for the life of me, start fitting the pieces in the puzzle. I certainly could not see what was that I had done wrong to deserve that hell. Quite frankly, back then I was feeling more like a boxer who has just been brutally knocked out to the floor: struggling to realize where I was, what had happened;insistingly asking myself if it was real or only part of the most horrible nightmare. I was certainly not ready for self-criticism. Even today, as much as I can now think of many instances, where I do not believe I acted wisely, I am certainly not going to take the blame for what happened. While I regret many decisions and it had been in my best interest to proceed differently, I do not think anybody, not even Alia, can reasonably argue that I acted selfishly or in bad faith. I therefore could not understand all that torment; I just wanted it to go away.

As painful as it was, I think the worst part is that I have never been able to find any kind of emotional support, or at least nothing anywhere near to all what I needed (true I needed a lot). Even when I finally arrived back to Spain, I did not receive anything but the coldest welcome from the little family I have left in Madrid. Since my sister was out of home for work, my brother-in-law came to pick me up from the airport early that morning. I then remained at their home for the rest of the day, without having anybody to speak with. I had just come back from the most amazing adventure ever, crossing Africa during the previous year on a Land Rover, and nobody had any interest to hear a word. The next morning my sister arrived back home and finally asked me what had happened. She wanted to know what plan did I have. I told her I wanted to visit my ophthalmologist in Barcelona, because I was worried about my eyes. I thought perhaps I might have to undergo some surgery. My sister asked how much time that would take. I really did not know, it was all speculative, but I guessed a couple of months. My brother-in-law then finally opened his mouth and jumped into the conversation, complaining he would not accept that, I could not just assume that I would be allowed to stay there a couple of months, but we would first have to talk about it. I did not understand anything: I thought 'talking' was what we were doing. I was not assuming anything; I was just answering questions. I think my sister had wanted to help me, but, considering my brother-in-law, she could not. It turns out he was using me to undermine my sister in their very particular marital feuds. Back in the day, when I was living in Los Angeles, I was the fun uncle, and they were all constantly asking me to come visit them. However, now the children had grown up, and I was not of much use anymore. Eventually I found that I did not have any place to stay in my very hometown, and I would have to fly to the U.S. as soon as possible and try to figure things out on my own over there.   

As bad as it was in Spring 2016, I could have never imagined how horrible it was still going to get. Over the next couple of years my vision would start a rapid decline, to the point that by 2018 I had basically lost everything, and I would still find myself all alone. I will be told I should reach out for my support system, but I did not know how to explain that I really did not have any support system. It became clear that the only person who still cared for me was my mother; but, given her age and the kind of remote place where she now lived in, it was rather difficult for her to do anything for me. Worst of all, after all what my mother had gone through in her life, she had no energies to put up any fight for me. My position was now very weak and when push came to shove... 

My father has many insecurities and is very jealous for my mother. As it appears to be commonly the case among men, he has perceived me as a threat to his Alpha position all since I became a teenager. He is a very troubled and depressive person as well. When he feels upset, he seems to look deeply for the most hurtful remark he could think of. Eventually, he would spat out that I got blind due to my stupidity. My mother would then stare into the empty space with nothing to say. As baffling and disturbing as it is for me, after all she has gone through, she has inexplicably always sided with my father. 

My mother, however, has throughout remained the only person in my family who showed any emotion for my suffering; friends and acquaintances would show a greater concern than the rest of my family. Having become blind, I would, for instance, only be able to rely on my mother for help. 

Now, if I ever felt like complaining about the world being so hostile, I only needed to wait a couple of mor years until Alia would start making false allegations of abuse and the courts would automatically accept them. These days we hear a lot about all the discriminations suffered by women; but little is said about the drawbacks of being a man. It even sounds stupid and pathetic to talk about them, does not it? Yet, there are actually quite some significant disadvantages. I guess the squeaky wheel gets the grease; but it is rather disappointing to make of life a squeaking competition of men against women. One major drawback for men is that you are not allowed to cry and freely get your feelings out. Even if you reach a point where you simply cannot abide by the social conventions anymore, but need to give in to your emotions and finally allow them to flow, it is basically impossible to do so without a deep feeling of guilt and shame, which defeats the whole purpose of crying in the first place. I really miss I was never able to cry and allow my feelings to get out. True I did sob inconsolably the morning after the order of protection hearing, where Alia's false allegations of abuse where accepted; but, as Augusto Monterroso's little story goes, "when I woke up, the dinosaur was still there". I knew I was all by myself at the guesthouse where I was staying at that time, so nobody would be able to hear me and find out I was crying. It then did not make any sense to try to hold it and restrain myself from crying: I sob inconsolably for quite a while, hoping to get everything out. However, when I was done, the dinosaur was still there and the judicial truth was now that I had brutally abused Alia all throughout our marriage.  Nothing could be farther from the truth, but "Your Honor" could not care less.