[Caprice]

I went in and he had this, southern persona deal. He was from texas. By this time I had calmed down and I was able to talk with him. He was very pushy. He didn’t take what I was saying seriously at all, at all. He said that there is a doctor in monterrey I could stay with that is a psycologist and he would be able to help me. I soon become nervous that I was not going home. He got on the phone to this doctor and the doctor was just blown away that he was talking to a Seventy (it was on speaker phone) (again, this goes with how revered mortal men are in the Church, something I did now feel right with). He agreed to anything that the Seventy wanted him to do. He always had this smirk on his face that I didn’t trust. After he hung up the phone, his face became serious, and he asked me that ive got to make a decision now whether I want to go home or to the doctor. I immediately went into a panic attack, I couldn’t control it. I started shaking very bad and I tried containing myself from dropping to the floor from my chair. The Seventy sat there, he wasn’t shocked, but he seemed to realize I had a greater problem than what he took me for. He told me, he said, if you stay in the mission or go home, I believe you need to see this doctor, because he can give you tools to help you in the rest of your life. I agreed. He next gave me a blessing which was very, it sounded very prideful, and he re-iterated himself being a Seventy during the blessing. Within 3 hours I was on a plane headed for monterrey. The missionaries at the mission home were very distant from me and very, rude for short.
When I got there I met the doctor and he was in his 70’s, an older man, but very thin and lean. He was nice. He took me to his apartment where him and his wife lived and I rested for the night.

The next day, Thursday, in the morning we went to his offices and he started asking me questions and getting to know my problem. His whole attitude turned very, smart-alic to me. His sessions didn’t work. I tried, but he approached me as if, I was weak, and I could not decide what to do with my life, almost as if, I didn’t know what was good for me. My trust in him soon failed because of his attitude toward me. I went tracking (in the mission this means to go as missionaries amongst the people and preach to them, help them, talk with them, whatever it takes to find people to teach and baptize) with the missionaries for the rest of the day and it was nice, but it was still the life of the mission and yes, still the same old thing. Baptize as much as you can.

Friday I told him during our session that I just wanted to go home. Im tired of all these questions and I thanked him for all he had done for me. I have an aunt that lives in monterrey and I never met her. She called him after he started the process to get my plane ticket (it was so, coincidental, apparently my dad had told her i was there, and she had spent the whole time trying to find me to come visit me). He said the earliest I could leave was Monday morning. After he had started the process of getting my plane ticket, things seemed to calm down. I went into his waiting lounge and sat on the couch and just, rested from everything that was going on. My aunt came and visited me at his office with my cousins who I never met also. She immediately started telling me (as soon as she walked through the door) all of the things that had gone through my head earlier (that goes through the head of every mormon missionary that was about to go home). How good of a person I will be when I serve and complete the mission. How happy my life will be when I complete the mission. And how happy the family will be that I served the mission.

I felt. For the first time ever in my life, that I wanted to kill myself. The feeling scared me very bad. Because I never had that feeling before, I didn’t believe in suicide being the way out of anything. But for the first time in my life, I felt that. I told them that was how I felt when she demanded I respond to her. They all freaked out but she kept telling me about all I had to gain from the mission.

I broke down and had another panic attack. The doctor’s wife came out and took me outside to calm down. She said she didn’t know it was that bad. I felt sorry for her. Because I could see how much she didn’t like her husband, but stuck with him anyway after going through the ceremony in the temple (if any of you have seen a Mormon Temple, and wondered what goes on inside, Wikipedia can tell you. And if you still want to know, I can tell you my whole experience with that before I left for my mission). He literally treated her almost as an, object, a workhorse. But the thing was, she let him, like, that is the way life is. I noticed this out in Utah when I was going to Brigham Young University. That night we went to the temple, and then went to their place and rested.

In the morning on Saturday, me and the doctor went grocery shopping. And then when we came back, he had to call my dad to get approval for me to fly home. The doctor went into another room without me and talked to him without my permission. I knew everything he was telling my dad. Because it was everything he tried telling me. That there wasn’t anything wrong with me. That I just didn't want to tough it and I wanted to go home.

After I had that feeling that I wanted to kill myself, I knew, no matter what, I had to get out of mexico. For my own safety.

After he talked to my dad, he came out and gave me the phone, I took it to my room and sat on the bed to talk with him. And before I could say anything, my dad wailed on me everything. He told me everything he despised about me. All the reasons he thought why I was coming home. It made me feel very trapped, like there was no way out, and that feeling of suicide came again, that it could be an option. I told my dad after I started crying that I felt like I wanted to kill myself. The next thing my father told me, I will never forget:

“I believe the Lord would rather have you dead, than for you to quit on him”

When my dad said that, it was as if a bomb went off. I stopped crying, the feeling of suicide went away, and I went into a state that I never had been before, almost like I was a zombie from being so shocked. All I kept saying to my dad while he continued to tear into me was yes sir, yes sir. I gave the phone back to the doctor. And they talked for one more minute, and then he gave the phone back to me, I went to my room. My dad said that he was denying my plane ticket, and I had to stay and tough it out. He also said that everything he told me, was from the spirit. I hung up the phone when he was done and took it to the doctor. He acted as if he had won. He was very sarcastic to me asking, “so, what’d he say? Huh?” I told him he said I had to stay here, I was still in my zombie state. The doctor said, well, how about you go take a nap and we can go to the temple this evening. I said that would be wonderful. He asked me if I would like to listen to his meditation tapes while I rested. I said that would be great. I took his boom box to my room and turned it on the tape.
The doctor came in with the phone telling me that my mother was on the line. She told me that she was threatening to divorce my dad over the whole incident (i have grown up in a dysfunctional household. My mother and father are both 2 different races, 2 different religions, they even sleep in seperate rooms). I told her that I was coming home. I told her that I would be alright, but that I was coming home. She seemed confident and we hung up. I took the phone back to the doctor and then told him I'm going to take my nap now.

(it's going to take a 3rd part)