In the short term, I do not know what to do. I can’t really let go of worrying about C. I can’t even decide if I need to do anything or if she will get settled on her own. I kind of think she cannot get settled. Exams are in one month. After that, they have a holiday, and the students are saying that this year, there will be a one-month holiday at the high school. So there are these two separations looming. It’s 2 months away, but like my absence in 2017, no one seems to be able to shut up about it. They keep talking about it, and I think she is scared. Scared of being away from me, scared of not being allowed to be away from me.

I kind of can’t get back into my own body. I know I feel very scared, and that the fear is completely consuming when I relax and let it in.

One thing I was considering over the weekend that I hadn’t thought about before was that this is an immigration issue. Immigration, I always forget, is terrifying to me. I really think I did not know I was a legal citizen when I was a child and I was with the girls—none of whom had proper documents—I constantly risked being separated from them via deportation, but I do not think I realized I could not be deported. I feel I am being deported, and I am scared. Little parts can’t quite grasp that I am going to a place I have been before, that there will be people that I know. I just know I am leaving important people behind, and although you plan for reunion, it is never as certain as you would like.

For an undocumented child, being undocumented is terrifying. It is like being available for legal kidnapping. I think that is what is getting triggered now. I had foster parents. I got attached to them and then returned, and I also didn’t understand about my legal status and I grew up with people who lived in fear of deportation. I think this is that fear. I think this I that fear of losing everything I have ever known: loved ones, school, familiar places, toys, everything. And it is probably doubly triggering because that is what I was considering doing to C—not exactly, but kind of. A separation I couldn’t tell if she wanted or not. I think some of the separations felt like deportations because although the distances were not that great, they were so total. They were languages and food and ways of being. That is what I am considering now. It might have been most important that I lost everyone I felt would protect me.

Yeah, so there is that.

It seems to me now that, having made a decision about C’s fate, the space has opened up for thinking about me. I feel like I will die if I leave Country X.