Dreaming of a Decision: Life beyond 12 months of waiting

A lot has happened since I last wrote a "thought piece".  I think one thing that has been super helpful in surviving the past 6 months, has been to remain active in the support groups.  There is something very beautiful about being consoled by perfect strangers who understand exactly what you are going through without you even having to explain it. There is also something very gratifying about helping other people.  It makes you feel useful, and like you're able to bring a little bit of good to a super fucked up situation. 

Maintaining the spreadsheet has taken up a good deal of my idle time, but it's self-serving:  I know it is a powerful tool for other people, but it is extremely meaningful to me as well.  I have no problem confessing that I am a control freak, and the chaos of this sambo process has really pushed me to the edge.  Having the spreadsheet has been a gem to me, to be able to see exactly where we are in the process.  I can't even begin to say how many people were told (after waiting 13 months!) that the wait times are "up to 21 months".  If someone told me that and I didn't have the spreadsheet, I would have just jumped off a bridge right there.  But the spreadsheet says 13-14 months to us still; until that picture changes, I will trust the spreadsheet and invest my feelings and sanity into it alone.

Anyway, I have to say: there has yet to be a more beautiful moment to me in this whole process than celebrating our 1-year application anniversary.  I have read a lot of people mourn this time.  They grieve over how long they have had to wait.  For me, it was such an incredible time to celebrate! I just so happened to be in Sweden celebrating the holidays with my love when our 1-year application anniversary came around, so we were popping champagne and reflecting on what a long journey we have been on, and how happy we are to put one whole year behind us.  Maybe it's because I've been working on the spreadsheet for so long and have known and accepted for a very long while that nothing would happen to our case for 13-14 months; but mostly, it was just knowing that we are closing in on the end. 

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I wrote a blog post several months ago discussing the 6 things I learned in the first 6 months of waiting.  At that time, the waiting times still said that we'd have our decision within 4-9 months. Given we were half way through that time range, had just done our interview, and were told by the Vice Consul to "call MV if we hadn't heard anything within 2 weeks", we thought we were pretty much done with the process.  That post was inspired by so much hope and pride for having survived 6 months as well as the refreshing joy of "knowing" (lol) we would soon have our decision.

Needless to say, the following 4-5 months were DEVASTATING. In that time, the waiting times were increased 3 times.  It got to the point where it felt like for each month you waited, the queue increased by 2 months.  The closer you got the the finish line, the farther away it became.  Not to mention, we all were obsessing over the refugee crisis which was exploding under our very noses, with no end in sight.  Each 1,000 people who poured over the border were seemingly 1,000 people who were pushing their way between us and our loved ones.

The anxiety, the stress, the anger, and the hopelessness all got to me. I lost 14 pounds in 2 months.  I had to medicate myself just to sleep.  I could write a novel about that time (in fact, I already did) but it's not worth re-living. It was in that time that I created the spreadsheet, to help keep the pulse on what our waiting times were actually looking like, and what the trends were.  

I count myself as one of the very few lucky ones in today's queue who received their interview email in a methodical fashion.  Some people who applied just one month after me, had to wait 11 months to receive their interview email.... all the while watching on (as countless thousands of others have) to see interview emails being issued in an utterly chaotic fashion, with no rhyme or reason.  I thank god beyond anything else, that we did not get swept up in that chaos.  I cannot begin to imagine the feelings of rage, sadness and injustice felt by people who have waited 9, 10, or 11 months for an interview email, just to see people who applied 3, 4, or 5 months ago receive it.  Migrationsverket says that when you get the interview email plays no part in when you will get the decision; that the decisions are given in order.  But does that do much to soothe one's mind? I'll give you a hint: No.

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For Johan and I, fortunately, the past couple months have been pretty ok.  We were able to have me visit Johan for a month over the holidays, and it was the best reprieve we could have ever dreamed for.  I left Sweden 1 day after our 1-year anniversary of applying, and it felt like we had finally put the majority of this hell behind us.  We started counting the time left we estimated we'd have to wait, in "number of weeks", not "number of months".  Or years.

Better yet, Johan just received permanent employment last week, which was cause for a HUGE celebration for us. It means that we can finally buy the house we (he) has been living in! We just finished remodeling the whole kitchen in December, and have so many other plans to bring the rest of the house up to speed.  To know we will soon be homeowners is a terrific feeling.

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But now, here we are.  12.5 months into the process, and dreaming of a decision.

We know we are about 4-8 weeks away from actually being able to say "we could get the decision any day", but every month we see some rare cases where decisions come for people in 12-13 months and it's hard not to daydream that today could be our day.  

It makes you think about what it will be like to get the email.  It may be the message informing us that a decision has been made, or it may be an email asking for komplettering (I believe that MV will ask us for photos, flight stubs and chat logs, to be honest - in fact, I've already begun to collect everything from since our interview).  Either way, I'm going to pee my pants.  

I can't really even imagine how I'll react when we know we have a decision, and the anticipation of getting a hold of  the Embassy to hear the result.  I know I'll feel relief - I think that's what will overwhelm me.  And sheer joy, knowing that I can put this all behind me and move on, and actually LIVE a life.  No more of this limbo, no more of this straddling two places that say they are home to me, but neither really is.  No more having to put everything on hold, because my whole life is 10,000 kilometers away from me.

The fact that Saturday morning pancakes and fika with family can be a reality... building snowmen in the winter, rainy days at the gym, summer camping and kayaking... being reunited with my puppy out there, game nights with our friends, falling asleep in each other's arms.... the rush of realizing that can finally be a reality, will be beyond words.

I think a part of me will also mourn this process.  For all the hell it has caused, I can say as a fact that I have never felt more alive as I have fighting every day through this garbage heap of a wait.  All the feelings I felt every day, in real time, and all the moments that I felt like I was fighting for my life... it really made me just feel alive.  I felt every single feeling so keenly.  Time never just slipped by.  I felt every second of it, and each moment was a reminder to me that I have such a bright light burning in my heart.  For each day I felt pain, I equally felt grateful that I had something to feel such pain for.  For each day I felt like I was going to die, I was reminded of how perfectly alive I was. 

I never want to forget a single moment of this hell.  I don't ever want to forget how hard I had to fight to be with the one I loved, because we believed in each other THAT much.  I want to remember all the pain, the fear, the sadness, the loneliness and the hopelessness.  I want to remember how bad it hurt to be apart from Johan, so that even in the normal, common, every day moments -- laundry day, boring work days, days where we are in grumpy moods or don't feel good -- we can remember that we are actually living in heaven.  I don't think I'll ever have to go through an experience like this in my life, ever again.  I don't want to forget it; I want to be able to retell this story to our children so they know what we had to go through to make this life a possibility.  And I want them to know they can get through it too, if that's what life has in store for them.

But until then, we wait.  As usual.  And dream of a decision....