A familiar scene in my bedroom (don’t get ahead of yourselves) are tears of joy for contestants participating in various shows. My me-time happens in the evening hours after a long day at the office. I like to watch tv for a few hours in the solitude of my spare bedroom. I relax while enjoying shows like American Got Talent, American Idol, or anything that has to do with competing. I am a 5’3″ fireball with more desires than strength, with more dreams than reach, and with more hopes to accomplish diverse projects than the time I have left in this world.
I’m the one that’s cheering for the underdog, the one with life-like stories. The ones that come from where it looked impossible to get anywhere. Some are insecure, unsure, unqualified, petrified, but they made it to the stage. They defy the lack, distance, language barrier, and who can deny it the draw of the straw. Many didn’t have any support, funds, or someone to travel with them and see them perform. They amaze us and amaze themselves with the audience response while I tear up. That’s how I show my support!
(Full Disclosure) This infatuation started in 1989. I traveled to the US and got introduced to daytime shows while caring for my oldest son and newborn. On a cold December, my family and I arrived in San Angelo, Texas. I didn’t have a car, friends, or dominion of the English language. Daytime shows and Ice-cream floats help me adapt to the new environment o, so I thought.
I enter into a deep postpartum depression that culminated with Hypothyroidism (or vice versa), not easily diagnosed by the doctors. I had a large egg size ball on the side of my neck, and even after many blood tests, contrast x-ray images, and many doctors squeezing it, followed by me screaming of pain, they could not determine what was wrong with me.
I lost lots of weight. I was less than a hundred pounds when we finally got the diagnose. Soon after that, I traveled back home with my two kids, one nine years old, the other one now six months. My father told me, confident, you are home now. You will be good in no time. I took some anti-depressive medicine for a short while and got back to normal in no time. It has been a while, and it never happened again, but the taste for watching people competing for anything never left me.