Leaving Mexico

Two weeks ago, on my way to the airport, I was giddy with excitement, knowing I was going back to my happy place ~ being with Ernesto in Mexico. I couldn’t wait to get there.

I pictured seeing the ocean again and smelling the wonderful salty air. Watching sunsets over the Pacific.  Having breakfast on the patio. Swimming in the pool. Taking long walks after dinner, when the nights were cool, through the beautiful grounds of our rental community.

None of this happened. Once we arrived in Mazatlán, Ernesto disappeared. I was lucky to see him a couple of hours of day. I never saw the ocean or swam in the pool. I watched glorious sunsets from my bedroom window, before the world went dark.

Ernesto made excuses for his absence. He had to work. He quit his job and needed to wait at the job site for a final paycheck. He wanted to meet with an attorney to find out which of his brothers had taken out a loan and used his mother’s house as collateral. He was beaten up by thugs who demanded he turn the house over to them. He had to go to the social security office to apply for a pension. He lost his phone. None of this was true.

Twice Ernesto was gone for more than 24 hours. I didn’t know where he was. I knew I was safe but I didn’t know if he was. My Spanish isn’t good enough to survive on my own. My lack of a sense of direction is legendary. I wanted to go for a walk but I was afraid I wouldn’t find my way home in a community where all the streets and homes look alike.

In the few hours when Neto was home and not asleep, our conversations were ugly. Neto was quiet and kind,  telling me what he thought would keep me from screaming at him. I was not rational. I didn’t mince words. I was bitter and angry. I barely recognized myself. I thought some crazy woman was sitting on the couch in my place. I knew that things were not going to get better. 

Tuesday, when Neto again didn’t come home overnight, I went to the airport, bought a last minute ticket and left. Neto called me from a pay phone as I was on my way to the airport. I told him I was leaving and asked him to go to our Airbnb rental and pick up his things.

On Wednesday, Neto texted me to let me know he is in residential treatment again for drugs and alcohol. Those of you who have read Neto’s story know that these are demons that have chased him all his life. 

Did I suspect that Neto had relapsed? No, I didn’t. He was clean for such a long time. He hasn’t abused drugs for almost 20 years. He’s been sober for ten. But I knew Neto was lying when he said he lost his phone. There were other things he said that were fishy but I never suspected he was using pills and alcohol. 

I am glad Ernesto is in treatment and getting help. Services for addicts in Mexico are available and good. Neto has been in rehab before and has made it work ~ but it is hard work.

I believe that Ernesto will work hard in order to be clean and sober again. And I have work to do, too. Our time together was a nightmare. I was like someone out of a horror movie. I really was! 

Ernesto was selfish and deceptive. My response was frightening. I never want to be that person again. I said horrible things in language that was shocking. Now that I am away and now that Neto has finally told the truth, I know that both of us reacted in ways that are understandable ~ but unacceptable. We both have a lot of healing to do. It all starts with telling the truth.

9 Replies to “Leaving Mexico”

  1. Oh dear Lynda! I am so sorry to read this chapter, you deserve better. I feel sorry for Ernesto and wonder why he has fallen back into drug use after such a long clean period?
    And your reaction to this, although terrible and frightening in the cold light of day, was surely understandable given the shock of the situation and the disappointment you were confronted with?
    What can we say? You have to come to terms with all of this and continue to live your life to the best of your ability. Chin up cousin, once more unto the breach….xxx

  2. I am so sorry this visit you were so looking forward to came to such an end but glad you are safely home and can start to process all that has happened. I still feel Neto is the same person I met all
    those years ago in Mazatlan and came to know better though your book – a man of wit and intelligence and caring, but with some weak spots as well. I hope in this time of healing you are both able to see a way forward. Be gentle with yourself; this was a very traumatic time. When you have contact with Neto, please tell him many people wish him well.

  3. So sad for you but so amazed at how strong you are. I pray you find some peace soon.
    I have always loved how you write. I remember all the fun Christmas letters.I will miss your blogs but you deserve a break.
    Sending my love.

  4. Linda, the fact that you took care of yourself by coming back home when you knew the situation was not healthy or good for you speaks volumes! You are a woman I have long admired for your strength, honesty, and sense of wonder and adventure of life. What you did continues to cement those beliefs in you. Glad you are home safe. I hope Neto is able to work through his demons again with the help of rehab. Take care and look forward to hearing from you again soon.

  5. What a big ouch. We think as we get older and wiser, the jabs life throws us will be easier to parry. They’re not. Now I get the point of your book. You loved Ernesto.

  6. I’m sorry that you and Ernesto went through these hard times. Facing difficult truths is one of life’s inevitable perils — for all of us. It sounds as if you got past the worst of it, and that Ernesto is finally getting the help he needs. Please be gentle with yourself, Lynda. Contending with a loved one’s addictions is enough to make any of us feel crazy. You are a marvelously compassionate person, and a friend whom anyone would treasure. After the storm comes the rainbow. Thinking of you with love.

  7. Lynda, I was so sorry to hear of your recent rough times. Be gentle with yourself and know many of us are sending big virtual hugs, best wishes for Neto’s recovery, and most of all, good times ahead eventually for you. We are all human and when pushed to the nth degree and stressed can respond in ways unrecognizable to us. I have always admired your zest for life, your wit and resilience. Better times will come. Please take care of yourself and know we are with you in spirit

  8. Lynda,
    Addiction is a horrible unrelenting disease that effects everyone.
    This does not mean you can excuse it.
    Give yourself grace,
    You are a truth teller to even the hardest person to tell the truth to – ourselves- Take a break from the blog if you feel it’s best, although I’ve loved it since the beginning and you are a talented writer. Take peace in knowing the season for doing it will come around to you again.
    You have found the way to a better time back in Colorado now. Trusting your gut, you will continue to find the best way for you. You are wise and resilient – stay open to new adventures around the corner.

  9. Hi Lynda,
    As I have mentioned to you, I am very happy to be on your list of blog recipient, and frequently do not read them. I didn’t read the most recent one, and was deeply moved by your courage, both when you were in Mexico, and choosing to bare your heart and talk about it so openly. What a horrible time in every respect for a trip which you were so excited for. I remember about 15 years ago, when Ernesto was your handyman, and he would go MIA for days at a time. My memory is that was alcohol, with possibly short stints being incarcerated. You supported him totally, through those difficult times, which greatly improved his quality of life. Looking back at that, I hope you feel good about how much you helped him, emotionally, financially, and spiritually. I completely enjoyed the time I spent with you and Neto, whether it be at a Venados game, Playa Las Brujas, or un restaurante con mariachis. At his best he was bright, engaging, interesting, and very kind. I have total admiration for your sharing of your worst moments. I hope I would be that brave, but doubt it. I wish you peace, joy, and healing.

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