Friday, September 7, 2012
The Hope Of A Lost Homeless Person
The Hope Of A Lost Homeless Person
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quiact
, 20 Hours Ago at 06:36 PM (58 Views)
As of today, I’ve been homeless for three years.
My father died last year, and left me over 11 thousand dollars, with a life insurance policy. To a broke and homeless person, that is quite a fortune.
With that money, I bought some dentures for this girl I was caring for in Indiana, and I gave some money to the man I lived with in Indiana, who died last May. The girl I rescued from Atlanta last year. She was homeless there, as I was. The man we were living with I met online, and he invited us to come live with him there. Also with that money, I bought a very beat up truck.
In July of last year, impulsively, I left a note for my friends in Indiana, letting them know I was leaving. I left some more money for them, and told them I was driving back to Missouri, to attempt to mend severely fractured relationships with those I have loved the most in my life. My family lives in Missouri, and my daughter.
Soon after beginning this trip, I was pulled over by a police officer, for an expired plate on the truck, along with dysfunctional tail lights on this truck. The police officer could of arrested me for an outstanding warrant I had in Missouri. Instead, I told him my story about my trip back home to hopefully see my daughter. He let me continue my journey back to Missouri.
I arrived in my home town in Missouri that night, and checked into a hotel. The next day, I sent an email message to my own family members, as well as the family members of my ex wife. I made them aware I was back home, and I desperately wanted to mend relationships with anyone willing to mend their relationship with me. I also let them know I very much wanted to see my daughter, as I had not seen her in two years.
The day following that email message to them, they had me followed to a library in that town I was at. I was arrested at that library, due to an outstanding warrant I had in the state of Missouri. There was a 2000 dollar cash only bond on this warrant. Fortunately, at the time of my arrest, I had over 5000 dollars cash on me at the time. The police officer who arrested me was quite pleased I had this money on me. He realized I was set up by others with this arrest, and did not want to throw me in jail.
The police officer took me to the station, and I helped this officer process me out of this police station. While in the booking area of this station, my ex wife called, and spoke with the police officer who arrested me. She wanted to make sure I was unable to pay the 2000 dollar bond. To her surprise, I did pay the bond, which is what the police officer told her.
When I was released from this police station, I asked the arresting police officer to call my ex wife, and let her know I had no intention of harming her, or anyone else. Again, I moved back home to mend relationships, and not harm anyone. He shook my hand, this police officer, and promised to call my ex wife.
Yet I learned later, that after this phone call my ex wife made to this police officer, she was having police escorts wherever she went. She was also having the police patrol her house, and the houses of her family members, due to the fear she had that I was out to harm others.
I finally arranged to see my daughter the beginning of August of last year. We met at a restaurant and the night was not bad, considering all the trauma inflicted on her by her mother and others. We shared some smiles and laughs, but she was very distant with me at this restaurant. She never chose to meet with me after this meeting at this restaurant. I learned soon after this meeting with my daughter that she has a lot of hatred and anger towards me, due to the lies told to her about me by her mother and others.
The next month, I had court for this arrest. My crime was frequently violating a restraining order against me, by writing and publishing essays related to my situation with my ex wife, and so forth. Emailing these essays to my ex wife and her family members violated the restraining order. I did this often, in the past few years. My crime was also violating probation for leaving the state of Missouri.
In court, the judge called me up to the stand. The judge recommended I acquire legal counsel. I asked for a public defender, from the judge. The judge said I could hire my own lawyer with the 2000 dollars he was holding for me. Instead, I chose to defend myself in court that day. The judge seemed elated about this decision I made, and asked me to have a seat in the court.
The female prosecutor soon showed up in the court room. This is the woman who had been assisting my ex wife in destroying me for the past two years. She sat next to me in court, and let me have it for the crimes I committed. At that time, I was facing a manditory 6 month jail sentence.
The prosecutor and I spoke for several minutes, and while apologetic, I did not regret committing the crimes I did. The prosecutor quickly realized I am in fact not the monster my ex wife illustrated me to be to her. So this prosecutor ended up defending me in court that day, getting me out of the mandatory 6 month jail sentence. After being completely rejected by various members of my family in my home town, I ended up living in another VA homeless program- specifically, a Salvation army, in St. Louis.
That last August, I ended up forming a fantastic relationship with a girl I met on Facebook, while staying at this Salvation Army. She decided to drive from Wisconsin to St. Louis to see me in October of last year. We had a fantastic weekend together. In February of this year, I decided to move to a VA homeless program in Wisconsin, near where she lives, so I could continue to care for her. I remain in Wisconsin presently, and I see this girl often. So for now, all is good. .
Thursday, June 21, 2012
A Great Letter From Carol
Hello my love, Look at me- I'm writing you a letter. Expect the unexpected.
Today, Julia and I went to Jelly Belly candy company for a free tour and free candy. It was something to do. I can tell already that she wishes she was in school again.
And I wish I was with you.
You would not believe how much I miss the weekends we had together. I felt I was in utopia. Being with you means more than I can express into words. When we are together, I feel not a care in the world. As you can see, I am being one of those nick maes you call me: Icon girl. LOL.
I keep hoping our ship comes into port soon. As you can tell, I can be very impatient when it comes to our happiness and well being. I cannot thank you enough for moving closer to be near me. I just wish your situation was better for you.
Hopefully, that woman you talked to can get you into the Guest House, where they can offer you better ways to secure employment. I am trying as well to get a job, but I have a barrier that is slowing down any opportunity I may have, and that is my age. Who wants to hire anyone this old. Oh well, I must keep trying.
I cannot wait to see you my love on Tuesday. My week is just plain blah when I don't see and feel your presence. I love you so much, Dan. I visualize the days when we are together permanently. Waking up and saying good night to each other is what I crave so badly.
Yes, we have to be patient for that day, but I can still think about it. I cannot wait to see you with your new eyeglasses. I bet you look good. Every night when I go to sleep, I pretend I am laying beside you with my head resting comfortably on your chest. Talk about paradise......
When I wake up in the morning, I pretend you are with me, and I'm just staring at you. I kiss you gently, as you open your eyes. And then we smile at each other. No words are spoken.
I shall be going now, but I will never be gone from you, my love. Forever is what we are. I love my Dan, and I can't wait till or for that day we are together forever.
Love,
Carol (typist and ADD girl)
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Handwritten Letters To Carol
My fiancee Carol lives near me now, but I still hand write her letters often, and mail these with a card to her. Something happens, when I write her these letters. I access something within me, as I share words with her.
Most of what I write to Carol deals with where I live now, which is a homeless shelter for military veterans. Also, I write about how I feel about Carol now. Here are a few letters I've written Carol recently:
Saturday morning
Hi Baby,
I'm serving breakfast for the boys this morning, so I thought I'd write you once again.
I'm again sorry I got on this restriction here. I have two beers at an applebees, and the folks here think I had this huge relapse, due to a positive urine drug screen I did. You and I will get through these next few weeks, and then we will be fine. And I won't drink beer anymore.
I'm glad these people here have computers, and I'm able to chat with you so often. I've also cranked out a few essays, since I've been staying here. I got here in February of this year. Anyway, I need to do some more writing, so give me something to write about sometime.
You had a really bad day yesterday, so I hope you are doing better today. I'll get on the computer here soon, and chat with you then.
I hope your mom made it back OK last night from Las Vegas, and I'd like to meet her sometime. Maybe sometime after my restriction here, I'll be able to meet her then. I'm glad I met your ex husband last weekend. He seems like he is an alright guy- at least now. I'm also glad he cares about you now.
Yesterday, I sent my mom an email, wishing her happy birthday, and happy mother's day. Her birthday is today. I also sent her pictures of you and I, from last Tuesday. I'm glad she sold my truck, and sent me the money from that.
That money got us some very decent lunches together, and a fantastic room at the magical Super 8, near where you live now, last weekend. It is so beautiful and peaceful there. And I really like the girl who shared a room with me there.
OK- I've enjoyed writing you again. And, we will chat soon online. I love you very much,
Dan
Thrusday night
Hi Baby,
I'm working the desk here right now, so I thought I'd write you once again.
My day was pretty good today. Earlier, I enjoyed chatting with you on the computer. And, I like going to the VA hospital here. For one thing, I like getting out of this place. Normally, I find people I know there to hang out with for awhile, when I'm not at a meeting at this hospital. And I like the staff at this hospital, especially those who conduct the meetings I attend there.
Just got off the phone with you, and you sounded really good, and happy. I'm also glad your daughter Carolyn is spending some time with you tonight.
Earlier today, I got a new sport coat in the clothing room they have where I now stay. The clothing room is pretty big, and since no one here but me wears sport coats every day, there are a lot of sport coats in this room for me to get.
And many of these coats are fairly new, so i'll grab them from this room as I need them. Benjamin is a 21 year old kid who works in this clothing room, helping us find what we may need from there. He and I became friends in the computer room here. So he lets me help myself, when I want to go in this clothing room here.
The only good thing about this place I now stay is the computers here. At least I get to chat with my girl all the time, due to these computers.
We got a guy who stays here who delivers mail for the post office. He thinks it is very cool that I hand write you all of these letters, and mail these to you with a card so often. He and I both agree that doing this is a lot more personal then just talking online, for example.
Most guys I stay with here know about you in my life now. If you have not met them already, they have seen you with me here. The staff here also knows about you. A girl I know who works in the kitchen here was asking about you not long ago.
Most guys who live here do not have a girlfriend, and have not had a girlfriend in many years. So you and I are kind of unique to many at this location. I consider myself very lucky to have you in my life now.
A guy I stay with here just bought me a soda. There are some nice guys living with me here now.
The food here where I stay sucks most days. I've already lost a bunch of weight here, and there is no way I'll gain weight, eating the crap they serve here. Most people here eat breakfast here, but I do not. Coffee for me only in the mornings here.
And since chicken is served here about one meal every day, and I don't eat this chicken, that means I normally only eat one meal a day here. And that is fine with me. I feel great most days. Most guys I stay with here are obese.
Most gain a bunch of weight staying here, somehow. But I will not, and I'll do a bunch of walking, near where I stay now. The va hospital is over 2 miles from where I live now, so that is always a good walk for me. That way, I'll stay healthy for my girlfriend.
I've enjoyed writing you once again, and we will talk soon. I love you very much,
Dan
Wednesday night
Hi Baby,
The computers are not working tonight here, so I thought I'd write you once again.
I went to a drug recovery meeting here earlier, and this fantastic thunderstorm happened, during the meeting. I thought about you, during this storm. I told the people at this meeting tonight that you likely would not be with me now, if I still was using drugs. I'm very glad I'm sober with you now.
I'm excited about seeign you on Tuesday. The VA hospital is a good place for us to meet, during the week, while I'm on this restriction. And Tuesdays are the best days to meet you there. We'll walk in the park near this hospital, and hang out at the coffee house near this hospital.
The best thing about you are all of these memories I have of you now. Since we first got together last October, I've had the most amazing time with you. I'm very glad you drove to St. Louis then to meet with me. Like you, I thought that weekend we had together might of just been a one time thing with each other. But somehow, I fell for you, and as a result, I now live near you. How cool is that?
Right now, I still hear thunder outside, as I write you this letter. Presently, I'm in the TV room with Wendolyn, Howard, Burnett, and Jack. We are watching some old gangster movie in this room now.
It's a quiet night here tonight, so it is very peaceful right now. And right now, it's about 9 p.m. I'll crash soon. Thankfully, I do get some sleep at this place. The guys who share a room with me now are fairly quiet during the night. I wear ear plugs, and an eye mask, as I sleep during the night here.
It is now Thursday morning, and I am now mailing this letter to you. And, I get to spend time with you in 5 days. Sweet. I love you very much, Carol,
Dan
Tuesday night
Hi Baby,
Thank you for today.
They use very sensitive urine tests here for alcohol use, so I'm sorry again O'm on restriction here, for having a couple of beers with you.
I'll not drink beer or anything else anymore, Carol. I was at one time a fairly bad alcoholic, so I should not drink at all. I'm sorry I had beer with you at lunch today. Drinking even a little bit of alcohol may affect my behavior, so I don't want to do that around you, especially. So I ask that you forgive me. Again, I will not drink anymore. I don't need to, so the guy in your life will continue to remain sober.
You definitely deserve a guy in your life who is totally and completely free of any drug use.
You bring a lot of happiness in my life now, but I'm still unhappy at times. you cannot do anything about what makes me unhappy, but you should know what makes me unhappy.
My daughter hating me now, and being out of my life completely, continues to cause me a great deal of pain and sorrow. As time goes by, I deal with this pain better each day. But this sorrow is still present within me each day. In time, I hope my daughter will re-acquire a relationship with me, but this may be a long wait for me.
And I definitely do not like being homeless and unemployed. i'm doing everything I can to change this situation, that is my life now, but it is going to take time. People often remain homeless for many years, and I understand why now. No one wants to hire me right now. in a way, my life is fucked, due to what has happened to me. However, I'll continue to try and become economically viable once again, so I don't have to live this way.
So, I try not to let these issues I have interfere with my relationship with you. If my behavior is ever off when I'm with you, please let me know. You will never see me angry or hateful, due to these issues of mine. But you may witness my sadness at times. Again, if this happens, please let me know.
You mean everything to me, Carol. I'm giving you everything I have within me right now. And you are giving me a lot of happiness I've desperately needed and have not experienced in a very long time. Thank you for being in my life now. I love you very much,
Dan
Saturday morning
Hi Baby,
Right now, I'm serving breakfast once again to the boys, so i thought I'd write you once again.
Last night, I slept a little bit. And I remember I had a dream about being a parent and father to my daughter. A few nights a week, I dream about hayley, and it has been taht way since her mother attempted to destroy me in August of 2009. I've not heard from Hayley since writing her a letter, a few weeks ago.
So I'm drinking coffee no. What I do is, I take my instant coffee that I have, and mix that with the coffee that is made here. It gives me a good jolt of caffeine, by making coffee to drink this way.
You know, I never thought I'd be homeless. Most homeless people never imagine themselves homeless, until it actually happens. Anyone who could or should help me out has not helped me out in any way.
Once you are fucked, no one wants anything to do with you anymore. I'm again glad my parents sold the truck I gave them last summer, and got me the money from that. That is some money to hold me over for awhile. But I've lost everything and anyone due to my ex wife, who I provided very well for, for a very long time. Life is clearly not fair at all.
Yet, somehow, I'm happier now then I've ever being, largely due to you you being in my life now. Every day, you remind me of how bad my marriage really was, for a very long time. In that marriage, I was very unloved. And somehow, that marriage made me a better person. That bad marriage I had allows me to be a really great guy in your life now, I think.
I'm looking forward to spending time with you again on Monday. We always have a great time, when you come to see me here. You are very enjoyable to be with, every minute I am with you.
And I'm really looking forward to our weekend together. It's always nice having you naked with me, for a couple of days and nights. It's also very nice and comfortable falling asleep with you, and waking up with you in the morning. Because, I kinda like ya.
I've enjoyed writing you once again. And i will write you like this again soon. I love you very much,
Dan
Wednesday afternoon
Hi Baby
The computer room here is closed this afternoon, so i thought I'd write you. I've missed writing you this way, so I hope you don't mind that I do this. This is another way for me to share my thoughts and feelings with you.
Today, I had another perfect day with you. And I loved doing lunch with you today. The food was great, and it was very comfortable, where we ate today. Don't ask me why, but I loved watching you eat chocolate cake. The beer I had there was also good. I had not had a beer in months. So the whole time with you there was very relaxing and enjoyable for me. I'm also glad the waitress took pictures of us, which look great.
So after you dropped me off today, I tried to take a nap, but I was not really tired. So, I went to the Walgreens near where I live, and got some cards to mail to you with these letters. While there, I didn't get anything else, besides these cards. Right now, I still have the soda and crackers you got me, so I'm good.
Presently, I'm in the TV room here. The guys in this room are watching some movie I do not recognize. There really is not much to do here, except watch TV, or be on the computers here. There is a small library at this location, so I can read some books from there, if I want to do this. And I can also write, when there is not much to do here.
Again, I'm very glad I got all that money from my parents, from selling my truck. Selling that truck I gave them last summer was a very good idea. The money from that that I gave you recently is yours. But, do use some of it to get us a hotel room for our upcoming weekend together. Right now, I still have over 200 dollars on me, which is more than enough to get me what I may want and need staying here, in the future.
It's amazing, the many guys here who do absolutely nothing during their days, staying here. Myself, I'm on the computers here often, but at least I'm doing something. many guys here sleep during the day, often due to the many drugs they take, prescribed to them by the psychiatrists from the VA hospital. Right now, I'm one of the very few people who stay here who does not take any drugs at all. in fact, I'll never take drugs of any kind, ever again. They do more harm than good.
Earlier today, I loved buying you that DryHootch T shirt. It looks really good on you, and it represents all the time we have spent there so far. Needless to say, I really love spending time with you at DryHootch, Carol. Thank you for all of these great memories you are giving me.
Tomorrow morning, I'm going to the Christian building again, to volunteer there. I really like going to that place, a couple of mornings every week. While there, I get to drink free coffee, and help out others who come there to get free food.
It is very good to get away from where I now stay for awhile, which is why I love it when you come here during the week, and rescue me. It was my hope I would see you this often, when I moved here, about 3 months ago. Moving here to be with you was a very good decision I made- perhaps the best ever.
OK- I'm gonna go ahead and mail this to you now. Thank you for letting me hand write you once again. I love you very much, and we will speak soon,
Dan
Friday morning
Hi Baby,
The computer room here is closed this morning, so i'm at the McDonalds you and I go to often now, hanging out, and writing you another letter.
Near where I now stay, there really isn't a lot of places to go close by, just to hang out. There is a library, but it is quite a walk from where I now live. So that is why I'm at this McDonald's now. And I will continue to explore this city in time.
There again is not a lot to do where I now live. Many of the guys again sleep during the day, but I do not. Other guys watch TV. Some read books. But, this place where I stay is a place to lay my head at night, which is really all I need. Well that, and you.
I'm very much looking forward to our weekend in the hotel soon. I'm glad I got this money, which is allowing us to do this. A weekend with you in a hotel room is the best thing ever. I seem to enjoy every minute I'm with you.
The room I sleep at where I now live is comfortable. I share this room with other guys, but they again are pretty quiet at night. So I'm able to get some sleep staying there, most nights.
It was again a very good decision for me to move up here, now closer to where you now live. There was no reason for me to stay in St. Louis. I'm able to see you now quite often, and when I do see you, we always have a great time together. So, moving here was again one of the better decisions I've made. in time, I'll convince someone to hire me, so I can get back on my feet somehow.
Most of the guys I live with now are much older than me. My life being wrecked at my age is bad enough. It has to be worse for these older guys. While living where I stay now, I help such guys out when I'm allowed to do so.
OK- I'm gonna head back to this place, and wait for you. I've enjoyed writing you once again, and we'll speak soon. I love you very much,
Dan
Sunday night
Hi Baby,
The computers where I live are not working tonight, so I thought I'd write you once again.
Sorry about Megan's mom having a problem with Megan coming here with your daughter Julia, when you visited with me yesterday. It's really not that dangerous here, and I did have the girls lock the car doors, since they insisted on waiting in the car. So I'm sorry you had to deal with that.
This place I now live had chicken once again tonight, so I did not eat. I was going to grab another gyro sandwich from JJ's, but JJ's is closed due to today being mother's day. So, I just had some crackers, and a soda or two. Also tonight, I went to Walgreens, and got some more cards to send you with these letters. I'm again glad we have this walgreens near where we live.
So with the computers being down tonight, I got to talk with Mike, and some other guys. We all agree that this place we live at now sucks. The staff herer does not help us at all, in any noticeable way. Most guys here just sleep and watch TV all day.
Guys like Mike and I, we had really great and productive lives, before ending up here. yet the staff still treats us like we are these extremely flawed individuals, with severe character defects. But I'm still glad I moved here. I can tolerate this place fine, and I now live closer to you, which is what I really wanted.
Just got off the phone with you, and you sounded great. The phone I just used to call you is the same type of phone I should get mailed to your house soon. Jack used the same application I did, for this free cell phone. So I hope it gets mailed to your house soon.
So I've made some decent friends here. I'm known to others as the computer guy, who always wears a sport coat, and has a hot girlfriend. We share some laughs, which makes living here much better. Mike is the guy here most like me.
He is the read head guy you saw on the sidewalk here recently. Mike was once married to a black girl and, like me, once had a high paying job. I'm not sure how Mike ended up here, but, like me, he is a very intelligent and nice guy, who is also the same age as me.
It was great seeing you yesterday, and I hope I see you again soon. Just see me when you can herer. Don't go out of your way to see me. We talk every day, so we will be fine, if I don't see you for whatever reasons. Thank you for being in my life now, Carol. And I love you very much,
Dan
Monday Afternoon
Hi Baby,
I'm at the VA hospital now, waiting for a 2 p.m. group meeting here. I got here right before 1 p.m. So far, I've rescheduled my dental appointment here, grabbed a cheeseburger and fries with a coke in the cafeteria here, and now I write you once again.
Also, I grabbed a smoke with some friends in front of the hospital. The computers are not working at this hospital now, so I'll have to wait to chat with you till I get back to the shelter, my home away from home, away from home.
I'm speaking with the Guest House homeless shelter now- trying to get in there. I have a veteran friend who use to stay with me where I now live, and he now stays there. He tells me it is a lot better in many ways there, so i'll see what I can do. Where I stay now really does suck, in quite a few ways.
I really enjoyed chatting with you this morning. You sounded really good, and happy. Glad to hear you and your mom are now at peace as well.
I've made friends with some older black guys, where I stay. James Bishop is one of them. He is in this class with me at the VA hospital today, and is a Vietnam Vet. So is Rick Harmon, another older black friend of mine. he is the guy you met recently who got your mother's day card for me. I hope I'm not in a homeless shelter, when I'm in my 60s.
I now sit outside on this beautiful day, and wait for a van to take us back to the shelter. James is with me, and we are now having a smoke with some coffee. They have some pretty girls working at this VA hospital. I spoke with one of them today, a librarian, working at the hospital there.
I'm back at the shelter now, and you are not on the computer, so I weep. I'm severely addicted to you. I find myself wanting to talk to you all the time. Hope that is OK.
We are chatting now on facebook. i'm again sorry about the Megan situation. Let's just stick with you seeing me here alone for now. You did not put her or your daughter in any harm when you saw me here on Saturday. They chose to stay in your car, when you visited with me then. In fact, I tried to get them to hang outside with us the, but they refused.
Anyway, I've enjoyed writing you once again. I'm looking forward to seeing you on Tuesday. We'll have fun. I love you very much,
Dan
Sunday, April 29, 2012
A Letter To My Fiancee, Carol
Wednesday afternoon
Hi Baby,
The computer room is closed this afternoon, so I thought I'd write you. I've missed writing you this way, so I hope you don't mind. This is another way for me to share my thoughts and feelings with you.
Today I had another perfect day with you. And, I loved doing lunch with you today. The food was great and it was very comfortable there with you today. Don't ask me why but I loved watching you eat chocolate cake. The beer I had there was also good. I had not had a beer in months. So the whole time with you there was very relaxing for me. I am also glad the waitress took pictures of us there.
So after you dropped me off today, I tried to take a nap but I was not really tired. So, I went to the Walgreens here and got some cards to mail to you, with these letters I now write you once again. While there, I didn't get anything else besides the cards. Right now, I still have the soda and crackers you got me so I'm good.
Presently I am in the T.V. room here. The guys are watching some movie I do not recognize. There really is not much to do here. There is a small library here, so I can read some books from there if I want to do this. And, I can also write when there is not much to do here, which I do often at times.
Again, I'm very glad I got all that money from my parents. Selling the truck I gave them last summer was a very good idea. The money from that I gave you is yours, but do use some of it to get us a hotel room for our weekend together on May 5th, which was my wedding anniversary, so it's all good.
Right now, I still have over 200.00 dollars on me, which is more than enough to get me what I may want or need here, in the future.
It's amazing the many guys here who do absolutley nothing during their days here. Myself, I'm on the computers here often, but at least I'm doing something. Many guys here sleep during the day, often due to the many drugs they do take. Right now, I'm one of the few people here who take no drugs. In fact, I'll never take drugs of any kind ever again. The do more harm than good.
Earlier today I loved buying you that Dryhootch shirt. It looks really good on you, and it represents all the time we've spent there so far. Needless to say, I really love spending time with you there, Carol. Thank you for all of these great memories you are giving me.
Tomorrow morning, I'm going to the Christina building again to volunteer. I really like going to that place a couple of mornings every week. While there, I get to drink free coffee, and help older people who go there to get free food. It's good to get away from this place for awhile, as it is good when you come here during the week, and rescue me.
It was my hope I would see you this often, when I moved here, about 3 months ago. So moving here was a very good decision I made- perhaps the best ever.
Ok--I'm going go mail this letter now. Thank you for letting me hand write you once again. I love you very much and we'll speak soon,
Your Honey
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
My Thoughts, While Incarcerated
In the fall of 2009, I spent over a month in jail, for the first time in my life. To achieve some level of freedom, I wrote, and I wrote a lot. I composed over 20 thousand words while in jail.
Most of these words were letters to Jacki- a girl I dated 25 years ago, and who I lived with after my release from jail. The living arrangement with her lasted about 6 months.
While in jail, one’s mind becomes altered often. There is great misery, with little hope. My state of mind is reflected in what I wrote while there.The following are the letters I wrote to Jacki, while in jail:
Week one-
I’m starting to get comfortable here, and this frightens me a bit. It’s just that I’m powerless at this point about progressing my case that resulted in me being here now. I have a court date on October 15th, and I will ask to speak on my own behalf to the judge as well as the prosecutor so I can negotiate with them about my situation. I’m very anxious to start my life again. I will do this as I recover from the rauma inflicted upon me, and as I miss my dear Hayley. Both cause me to experience severe intrinsic, and silent, pain.
This is nothing short of unimaginable hell, as this pain I feel is indescribable- it is in fact worse than any kind of chronic torture I can possibly conceive.
I was chatting with a deaf kid named William here in jail with me. We got here on the same day, and he needs a lawyer as well as me. William may be going to prison for theft.
I’m cutting out words from various magazines on this Friday night to use when I write Hayley the next time. These letters that she and I are doing back and forth are really making me very happy in the midst of great misery.
It’s Saturday morning now, and I just got off the phone with you. I’ll be thinking of your voice all day, and for the days to come. Do not worry about me, please. I can and do take care of myself. Jail is jail. It is not suppose to be enjoyable.
I’ve told my story to more than one here in jail about the circumstances of my divorce. They were surprised at the lack of retaliation for injuries perceived or otherwise.
Many are violent here, of course. This explains why law enforcement dudes automatically presumed that I was violent. Violent because of those who are my fellow inmates now. Many are very mean.
We finally got to go to the library today here in jail. I got some magazines. No dirty magazines here, I’m sorry to say. There is also a law library here in jail, and I’ll request to go to this library soon.
It’s Saturday night, and I called a friend of mine from high school a moment ago. I asked him to contact our other friends from high school to try and get me a legal agent. he and these other friends have had legal issues in the past of their own, and they know legal agents as a result.
I’ll not be able to mail this letter to you till Tuesday. This gives me two full days to continue to write to you, and revise what I write. I tend to do this often.
I’ve felt a need tonight to hold Molly (my ex-wife) and my daughter Hayley, and cry with them. This hate that has infected Molly needs to be treated in such a way. It needs to be cured by love.
I’ll never have my family back again, and I have to learn to live with this. But I’m compelled to fight evil such as this in my life now whenever I possibly can. Always. It hurts.
It’s Sunday morning here in jail, and I just shared some candy with other inmates. This elevated my popularity greatly, cause I really do not fit in here with them, overall.
Justin takes a particular interest with you here in jail, as I speak of you to him often. He is a 25 year old good looking guy, and he is a new dad. His son was born as he is in jail with me.
He witnessed me illuminate when I first heard from you here in jail. And I showed him letters you sent me that I wrote to you way over 20 years ago, which I find incredible, what I wrote.
Week Two:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
“Serenity, beauty, and freedom. It only took me 42 years to find all of these things.”
To do drugs here, the inmates on occasion swallow balloons containing such drugs, and these drugs are, well, retrieved, at a later time. To smoke pot, the inmate wraps the pot in bible paper. Cigarettes can and have been placed directly into the rectum- just so you know. Of course, aside from coffee, I’ve done no other drugs while in jail.
Having sex with my ex wife was like trying constantly to copulate with death. I attempted to reproduce with progressive atrophy through amplified apoptosis, so it seems.
It’s Thursday, and it is very rainy outside here now. It is very pretty watching this rain fall over the Mississippi river.
I’ve been in jail for exactly one month today. And I’m so ready to get the f*** out of here.
This is my all time nadir, I think. Y ou are in fact the elixir of my present state- you are the panacea for removing my ego and confidence from the purgatory of their present residence in the transcendental intensive care unit. It was kismet when our mutual friend Ryan drove me to Marietta, where I met you for the first time.
The inmates watch, “Jerry Springer” on TV before lunch here in jail. What a dumb-ass show. Our society is clearly warped. It’s quite sad.
Just got your letter from Monday. I’m fighting this restraining order against me by being in jail right now. My love for Hayley continues to fuel me.
With the letters I write to Hayley, I send them to Molly’s parent’s house. I do not have an address directly for Hayley now. Molly’s parents are wonderful people, and will likely insist that Hayley read what I write her. And it is also likely her mother is opposed to this, but f*** her, quite frankly.
The words I read from Hayley here- they are great. There is energy, joy and happiness in the words Hayley writes to me now. This bond I now have resurrected between Hayley and I was against all odds.
I f****** did it, Jacki. Not too many 11 year old children from similar situations would be able to express such joy generated from their father. I’m glad I created and allowed this to occur.
I’m homeless at the age of 43. I was very much middle class just a few years ago. The trip from a limousine to a ditch is a very short trip.
Thanks for knowing and acknowledging that I care about you. And thanks for forgiving me when I have shared words with you that I did not mean.
I can always get in the mood to write, but the writing is always much more exploratory when I’m altered, as the case here in jail. It’s like drunk-dialing, in a way.
Keep writing me, Jacki. I love your words.
Week Three:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
I should really see you soon now that my mind is clear. If I do, I should really stay perhaps with your mother. This will truly test my endurance as well as my stamina, I believe. I’ll be her slave, if she allows me to stay there.
I’m very glad I’m off of drugs of any kind now. It’s been close to two months since I’ve taken my prescribed medications. My last refill I got was the day my ex wife Molly filed a restraining order against me.
So I got these prescriptions filled, and then I took over 100 pills of speed and tranquilizers within five days after that refill. At this time I was intentionally over-dosing myself, I really did not wish to live anymore. I’m thankfully no longer in that frame of mind. Suicide attempts seem to sneak up on me.
I did not notice the brutal withdrawals as I’ve had in the past when getting of these particular drugs prescribed to me. This is due to the hell I’m going through now masking such symptoms.
It is very cool writing you like this again. If I recall correctly, the last time you wrote me in the year 1988, you were understandably pissed at me. So the letter I recently received from you here in jail was pleasantly refreshing.
I’m sorry most recently for those times when I’ve snapped at you with what I’ve wrote to you when I’ve not been in jail, Jacki. I ask that you forgive me. I do care about you a great deal.
My heart remains full of love right now, yet this love no longer runs smoothly within my heart. I am channeling this love to Hayley. I believe this is effective, and is working to benefit Hayley, as well as myself.
I wonder at times here in jail if I will ever marry or become a father again. Presently, I do not have a desire to do either. I was married for 20 years, and I have a beautiful daughter right now.
To initiate a sequel to my life so far just seems so wrong right now on many levels. This concept therefore seems very foreign to me presently. I believe I’ll achieve happiness and peace any way my life may progress.
Week Four:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
Thanks for sending me that quotation from Clint Eastwood recently. I’ve actually had another quote in my mind lately by Tyler Durden in the very well-written movie, “Fight Club”: “You must lose everything in order to be free to do anything.” Indeed. I in fact and remarkably feel very free right now as I reside in jail. I’m void of fear.
By the way, your handwriting is as gorgeous as you are- and almost as perfect. You are rather talented.
Jail isn’t too bad, really. I’ve always believed that we are all imprisoned in various ways- in one way or another. Jail simply actualizes our reality, perhaps. Man, am I deep, or what? I’ve traded a terrible marriage for a very welcome philosophy.
Of course, you are the only girl I write to while I’m in jail. I did send my ex girlfriend Janice a four page letter last week. She likely will not reply to me, I’m sure. I trust you will continue to write me for the rest of your life.
Hayley wrote me in jail a couple of weeks ago after I wrote to her immediately after I got here. Not seeing Hayley or speaking with her is clearly a new experience in pain for me. I cry, and these tears are welcome. I did write Hayley back afterwards, and I’m sure the words I wrote to her will give her happiness.
So when we enter jail, we are not allowed to bring any possessions of any kind inside with us- such as addresses of others, or their phone numbers. We are not even allowed to bring such benign items as, say, machine guns.
So again, I’m glad you found me here, and continue to write me. Your words help me greatly tolerate my environment as I’m imprisoned.
Speaking with you on the phone on occasion combined with your letters to me greatly mend my depression. You are that much more in my soul now. I feel I owe you big time. Whatever you may want in the future from me, you shall have. You share my madness with me now.
Please get me a new wife as soon as you can, if you will not marry me yourself. There must be a catalog or something for this that I seek. Or perhaps you could call for me one of those ‘free’ phone numbers, such as 1-800-976-BABE.
I could get hit by a bus today. I might as well love the people I love, and take as many risks as possible. —- Malin Akerman.
Changing the world. That’s what I plan on doing with my future. —- Tristan Wilds.
I finally got some more paper to write on here in jail, as well as some stamped envelopes, coffee, crackers, and other items to eat this afternoon. I mailed you a very long letter that you may get this weekend from me. All mail I send you will go to your work address.
I still do not know when exactly I will leave jail. I do not have a set court date right now for these violations of law that are fictitious. I wrote my probation officer today as well to continue to ensure her support, and asked for her help in possibly getting me released from jail.
So I’ve done all I can do right now. I’ll be in jail for an entire month next week. I’m at the mercy of those who have imprisoned me.
While I’d rather be someplace else besides jail, I actually feel pretty good. I’m completely detoxified, and this is a very good thing. I’m also motivated to re-invigorate my life. And I will do this once I am free.
I do not believe that I’ll ever be able to fully mend what may be permanent damage from the trauma of my divorce. Any attempts by me to repair such damage will likely land me in jail once again. I’m still striving to maintain my daughter Hayley’s emotional and mental state, however. The family law system in this country is more damaging to families than I could possibly have imagined.
When hostility replaces intimacy, society is in a clear state of apathy. So I feel I need to leave the state of Missouri as soon as I can. For one thing, I’m too compelled to fix this damage. Yet jail is not where I wish to be.
Week Five:
As I’ve mentioned in the past, when one is a guest in jail as an inmate, their mind becomes altered often due to a toxic combination of hope and misery. We as inmates all react to this alteration that occurs in different ways.
In my case, I regressed often. I regressed back to my high school days, and my first love, who was a girl named Janice. As a result, I composed the following while in jail some time ago:
I remember my first night in jail. I spent this night in a holding unit after spending hours in booking.
I remember laughing in the booking area with others due to a drunk there mumbling things half asleep. I had no fear then, nor do I now.
As I slept in this holding unit, I dreamed somehow about the love I felt deeply for my first love, a girl named Janice. What I felt in this dream was incredibly pure, and as peaceful as I imagine death to be.
Such a feeling has been largely absent in my life during the course of my previous marriage in particular. I believe this is why I dreamed so wonderfully that night in jail. It filled a great void within me, this dream.
That, and this holding unit reminded me greatly of boot camp in many ways that I experienced at the age of 18. Janice was very much in my life then- when I left her to go in the military.
So with Janice, my first and only true love, she is friends with the girl next door when i grew up, whose name is Missy. I had a huge crush on Missy when I was in my early teen years. Missy was my first real crush on a girl.
So Missy’s friend Janice found me attractive. I found Janice pretty, but rather plain. My skills at judging women were premature at this stage in my life. It turns out that Janice is far from plain- she is rather exceptional in many ways.
Janice and I were very much in love with each other between the years of 1983 and 1984- a bit longer in my case. We actually lost our virginity to each other during this time in the back of her pea green 1973 Chevy Impala one summer night in the year 1983.
After I graduated high school in the year 1984, I decided I needed to improve myself greatly- for Janice. So I joined the Navy as a medic. I’ve always had an interest in helping others, and in medicine. This passion remains alive within me to this day.
Our relationship ended as many do at our young ages at the time soon after I left for the military. I’ve never forgotten about Janice- and I still think of her daily. She married the same year I did in 1990. She had two daughters with her husband before they divorced in the year 1998.
It was great being in love with Janice. I would re-live this great and joyful pain of such love in a New York minute. Even this pain was quite devastating at times, I would always strive to see and visit with Janice whenever I could, and whenever she would allow me to do so.
I wished to hold her. So when I was fortunate enough to see Janice, I’d experience the most welcome pain in my heart- as it would really stop when I’d first catch sight of Janice during those years after our break up in 1984.
I’d hold Janice, and I would pray to the romantic Gods that seconds would manifest into minutes. So I would hold and hug Janice as long as I was allowed to do so. I would close my eyes as I would completely absorb her as I held her. I would never trade this pain I continue to feel within me.
Not long ago, when I was making a lot of money, I’d visit Janice at her home a few times a month- and we would talk into the late hours of the night. this was after Janice divorced her husband. I never got intimate with Janice this year or so I did this- did these visits with her.
I enjoyed the harmless time with Janice. Also, at times, I’d try and financially help Janice and her daughters- when she would allow me to do this. Janice was a schoolteacher, and did not make a lot of money. I did not mind helping her in this way at all. I considered myself rather wealthy at the time.
Janice finally re-married to a fairly decent guy, and she moved to Erie, PA 4 years ago. By chance, I saw her at a store only the day before she moved. That was the last time I saw Janice. I did however speak with her on the phone only months ago. Like I said, she is always in my thoughts.
Week Six:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
Recently, I met a black guy here with a tattoo of the staff of Aesculapius on his forearm. This is a medical symbol, and it turns out he got this tattoo in honor if his father, who was a medic in the Vietnam war.
I’m watching, ‘Funniest Home Videos’, with other inmates at this time. This show is also rather unfortunate, but not as bad as, ‘The Jerry Springer Show’. We fortunately do watch, “The Simpsons”, daily here.
This is a good thing, compared to the other dumb ass mind-numbing shows on TV here that most inmates choose to watch. I watch television rarely- here in jail or anyplace else.
I continue to offer diagnoses to other inmates here in jail. There are more tinea versicolor cases in my unit in jail. These are typical fungal skin infections. Another inmate had a lipoma on his neck- which is a fat cyst. Another guy has gynecomastia. Other cases were atopic dermatitis with unknown etiology.
Back to the rashes here in jail: The inmates are overly concerned about minor medical issues such as these. The inmates can in fact order tolnaftate and hydrocortisone on their own.
Yet most if not all inmates do not know about these topical creams, and that these creams will successfully treat most rashes acquired by jail inmates. So I have educated them on these treatment options, and may give a class on the various medicinal products inmates can order, and how they may benefit them.
There are many chronically poor people in jail. They trip out a bit when I tell them I was once a corporate executive for an entire decade. They wonder what the f*** I’m doing here in jail. So do I.
They also think the world of me if I happen to share small items with them- such as candy or coffee. Cause in jail, you never share with other inmates. I mean, if you do this, you are being perhaps nice and kind. This could ironically get your ass kicked often.
There is a very nice black guy here in jail with me named Courtney. I noticed deep scars on his back one day. He was slashed several times in downtown St. Louis not long ago. And yet he still is a kind guy. That is character
My marriage served a needed purpose. My daughter Hayley was conceived and born. I completely raised Hayley with all of my love for most of her life. So mission completed with tremendous joy.
I finally got some needed sleep last night here in jail. My emotions were greatly elevated yesterday due to lack of sleep, and I found myself greatly depressed as a result. Today is much better.
It is Columbus day today. I’m pissed, because aside from the meals here in jail, there is not much to look forward to this day. There will be no mail received by inmates today.
I somehow sprained my right knee since I’ve been in jail. It’s a medial meniscus tear- and feels like a first or second degree sprain. I need to brace this knee for about a week so it can heal. In jail, we actually sleep on steel with a very thin covering. This may somehow be the cause of my sprain.
It’s pretty outside here for October. The leaves are starting to change.
Jacki- please do not worry about me. I felt that you were concerned as I read your words to me in a recent letter. I’m not suffering, and I know why I am here in jail. It is a battle I needed to fight. I do not pick my battles. I fight those that need to be fought.
I look outside the small window in my cell in jail, and I see free people. This sucks out loud. I also see a great father and his child right now. This is going to be a long f****** day, I can tell already.
For breakfast, we had hard-boiled eggs here. As I ate these eggs, I could not help but to think of the movie, “Cool Hand Luke.”
Usually, I crash here in jail well after midnight. A small breakfast is served after I sleep for these few hours. Then, I basically read and write till lunch arrives here at noon. Dinner is at 5 p.m.
Mail gets here about 8 p.m. Then the same day is lived in the days that follow. Laundry arrives fresh on Mondays and Thursdays here in jail. We as inmates are allowed to buy and order treats and such on Sundays. These items are then delivered to us on Wednesdays.
I am so lonely.
Most of these words were letters to Jacki- a girl I dated 25 years ago, and who I lived with after my release from jail. The living arrangement with her lasted about 6 months.
While in jail, one’s mind becomes altered often. There is great misery, with little hope. My state of mind is reflected in what I wrote while there.The following are the letters I wrote to Jacki, while in jail:
Week one-
I’m starting to get comfortable here, and this frightens me a bit. It’s just that I’m powerless at this point about progressing my case that resulted in me being here now. I have a court date on October 15th, and I will ask to speak on my own behalf to the judge as well as the prosecutor so I can negotiate with them about my situation. I’m very anxious to start my life again. I will do this as I recover from the rauma inflicted upon me, and as I miss my dear Hayley. Both cause me to experience severe intrinsic, and silent, pain.
This is nothing short of unimaginable hell, as this pain I feel is indescribable- it is in fact worse than any kind of chronic torture I can possibly conceive.
I was chatting with a deaf kid named William here in jail with me. We got here on the same day, and he needs a lawyer as well as me. William may be going to prison for theft.
I’m cutting out words from various magazines on this Friday night to use when I write Hayley the next time. These letters that she and I are doing back and forth are really making me very happy in the midst of great misery.
It’s Saturday morning now, and I just got off the phone with you. I’ll be thinking of your voice all day, and for the days to come. Do not worry about me, please. I can and do take care of myself. Jail is jail. It is not suppose to be enjoyable.
I’ve told my story to more than one here in jail about the circumstances of my divorce. They were surprised at the lack of retaliation for injuries perceived or otherwise.
Many are violent here, of course. This explains why law enforcement dudes automatically presumed that I was violent. Violent because of those who are my fellow inmates now. Many are very mean.
We finally got to go to the library today here in jail. I got some magazines. No dirty magazines here, I’m sorry to say. There is also a law library here in jail, and I’ll request to go to this library soon.
It’s Saturday night, and I called a friend of mine from high school a moment ago. I asked him to contact our other friends from high school to try and get me a legal agent. he and these other friends have had legal issues in the past of their own, and they know legal agents as a result.
I’ll not be able to mail this letter to you till Tuesday. This gives me two full days to continue to write to you, and revise what I write. I tend to do this often.
I’ve felt a need tonight to hold Molly (my ex-wife) and my daughter Hayley, and cry with them. This hate that has infected Molly needs to be treated in such a way. It needs to be cured by love.
I’ll never have my family back again, and I have to learn to live with this. But I’m compelled to fight evil such as this in my life now whenever I possibly can. Always. It hurts.
It’s Sunday morning here in jail, and I just shared some candy with other inmates. This elevated my popularity greatly, cause I really do not fit in here with them, overall.
Justin takes a particular interest with you here in jail, as I speak of you to him often. He is a 25 year old good looking guy, and he is a new dad. His son was born as he is in jail with me.
He witnessed me illuminate when I first heard from you here in jail. And I showed him letters you sent me that I wrote to you way over 20 years ago, which I find incredible, what I wrote.
Week Two:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
“Serenity, beauty, and freedom. It only took me 42 years to find all of these things.”
To do drugs here, the inmates on occasion swallow balloons containing such drugs, and these drugs are, well, retrieved, at a later time. To smoke pot, the inmate wraps the pot in bible paper. Cigarettes can and have been placed directly into the rectum- just so you know. Of course, aside from coffee, I’ve done no other drugs while in jail.
Having sex with my ex wife was like trying constantly to copulate with death. I attempted to reproduce with progressive atrophy through amplified apoptosis, so it seems.
It’s Thursday, and it is very rainy outside here now. It is very pretty watching this rain fall over the Mississippi river.
I’ve been in jail for exactly one month today. And I’m so ready to get the f*** out of here.
This is my all time nadir, I think. Y ou are in fact the elixir of my present state- you are the panacea for removing my ego and confidence from the purgatory of their present residence in the transcendental intensive care unit. It was kismet when our mutual friend Ryan drove me to Marietta, where I met you for the first time.
The inmates watch, “Jerry Springer” on TV before lunch here in jail. What a dumb-ass show. Our society is clearly warped. It’s quite sad.
Just got your letter from Monday. I’m fighting this restraining order against me by being in jail right now. My love for Hayley continues to fuel me.
With the letters I write to Hayley, I send them to Molly’s parent’s house. I do not have an address directly for Hayley now. Molly’s parents are wonderful people, and will likely insist that Hayley read what I write her. And it is also likely her mother is opposed to this, but f*** her, quite frankly.
The words I read from Hayley here- they are great. There is energy, joy and happiness in the words Hayley writes to me now. This bond I now have resurrected between Hayley and I was against all odds.
I f****** did it, Jacki. Not too many 11 year old children from similar situations would be able to express such joy generated from their father. I’m glad I created and allowed this to occur.
I’m homeless at the age of 43. I was very much middle class just a few years ago. The trip from a limousine to a ditch is a very short trip.
Thanks for knowing and acknowledging that I care about you. And thanks for forgiving me when I have shared words with you that I did not mean.
I can always get in the mood to write, but the writing is always much more exploratory when I’m altered, as the case here in jail. It’s like drunk-dialing, in a way.
Keep writing me, Jacki. I love your words.
Week Three:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
I should really see you soon now that my mind is clear. If I do, I should really stay perhaps with your mother. This will truly test my endurance as well as my stamina, I believe. I’ll be her slave, if she allows me to stay there.
I’m very glad I’m off of drugs of any kind now. It’s been close to two months since I’ve taken my prescribed medications. My last refill I got was the day my ex wife Molly filed a restraining order against me.
So I got these prescriptions filled, and then I took over 100 pills of speed and tranquilizers within five days after that refill. At this time I was intentionally over-dosing myself, I really did not wish to live anymore. I’m thankfully no longer in that frame of mind. Suicide attempts seem to sneak up on me.
I did not notice the brutal withdrawals as I’ve had in the past when getting of these particular drugs prescribed to me. This is due to the hell I’m going through now masking such symptoms.
It is very cool writing you like this again. If I recall correctly, the last time you wrote me in the year 1988, you were understandably pissed at me. So the letter I recently received from you here in jail was pleasantly refreshing.
I’m sorry most recently for those times when I’ve snapped at you with what I’ve wrote to you when I’ve not been in jail, Jacki. I ask that you forgive me. I do care about you a great deal.
My heart remains full of love right now, yet this love no longer runs smoothly within my heart. I am channeling this love to Hayley. I believe this is effective, and is working to benefit Hayley, as well as myself.
I wonder at times here in jail if I will ever marry or become a father again. Presently, I do not have a desire to do either. I was married for 20 years, and I have a beautiful daughter right now.
To initiate a sequel to my life so far just seems so wrong right now on many levels. This concept therefore seems very foreign to me presently. I believe I’ll achieve happiness and peace any way my life may progress.
Week Four:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
Thanks for sending me that quotation from Clint Eastwood recently. I’ve actually had another quote in my mind lately by Tyler Durden in the very well-written movie, “Fight Club”: “You must lose everything in order to be free to do anything.” Indeed. I in fact and remarkably feel very free right now as I reside in jail. I’m void of fear.
By the way, your handwriting is as gorgeous as you are- and almost as perfect. You are rather talented.
Jail isn’t too bad, really. I’ve always believed that we are all imprisoned in various ways- in one way or another. Jail simply actualizes our reality, perhaps. Man, am I deep, or what? I’ve traded a terrible marriage for a very welcome philosophy.
Of course, you are the only girl I write to while I’m in jail. I did send my ex girlfriend Janice a four page letter last week. She likely will not reply to me, I’m sure. I trust you will continue to write me for the rest of your life.
Hayley wrote me in jail a couple of weeks ago after I wrote to her immediately after I got here. Not seeing Hayley or speaking with her is clearly a new experience in pain for me. I cry, and these tears are welcome. I did write Hayley back afterwards, and I’m sure the words I wrote to her will give her happiness.
So when we enter jail, we are not allowed to bring any possessions of any kind inside with us- such as addresses of others, or their phone numbers. We are not even allowed to bring such benign items as, say, machine guns.
So again, I’m glad you found me here, and continue to write me. Your words help me greatly tolerate my environment as I’m imprisoned.
Speaking with you on the phone on occasion combined with your letters to me greatly mend my depression. You are that much more in my soul now. I feel I owe you big time. Whatever you may want in the future from me, you shall have. You share my madness with me now.
Please get me a new wife as soon as you can, if you will not marry me yourself. There must be a catalog or something for this that I seek. Or perhaps you could call for me one of those ‘free’ phone numbers, such as 1-800-976-BABE.
I could get hit by a bus today. I might as well love the people I love, and take as many risks as possible. —- Malin Akerman.
Changing the world. That’s what I plan on doing with my future. —- Tristan Wilds.
I finally got some more paper to write on here in jail, as well as some stamped envelopes, coffee, crackers, and other items to eat this afternoon. I mailed you a very long letter that you may get this weekend from me. All mail I send you will go to your work address.
I still do not know when exactly I will leave jail. I do not have a set court date right now for these violations of law that are fictitious. I wrote my probation officer today as well to continue to ensure her support, and asked for her help in possibly getting me released from jail.
So I’ve done all I can do right now. I’ll be in jail for an entire month next week. I’m at the mercy of those who have imprisoned me.
While I’d rather be someplace else besides jail, I actually feel pretty good. I’m completely detoxified, and this is a very good thing. I’m also motivated to re-invigorate my life. And I will do this once I am free.
I do not believe that I’ll ever be able to fully mend what may be permanent damage from the trauma of my divorce. Any attempts by me to repair such damage will likely land me in jail once again. I’m still striving to maintain my daughter Hayley’s emotional and mental state, however. The family law system in this country is more damaging to families than I could possibly have imagined.
When hostility replaces intimacy, society is in a clear state of apathy. So I feel I need to leave the state of Missouri as soon as I can. For one thing, I’m too compelled to fix this damage. Yet jail is not where I wish to be.
Week Five:
As I’ve mentioned in the past, when one is a guest in jail as an inmate, their mind becomes altered often due to a toxic combination of hope and misery. We as inmates all react to this alteration that occurs in different ways.
In my case, I regressed often. I regressed back to my high school days, and my first love, who was a girl named Janice. As a result, I composed the following while in jail some time ago:
I remember my first night in jail. I spent this night in a holding unit after spending hours in booking.
I remember laughing in the booking area with others due to a drunk there mumbling things half asleep. I had no fear then, nor do I now.
As I slept in this holding unit, I dreamed somehow about the love I felt deeply for my first love, a girl named Janice. What I felt in this dream was incredibly pure, and as peaceful as I imagine death to be.
Such a feeling has been largely absent in my life during the course of my previous marriage in particular. I believe this is why I dreamed so wonderfully that night in jail. It filled a great void within me, this dream.
That, and this holding unit reminded me greatly of boot camp in many ways that I experienced at the age of 18. Janice was very much in my life then- when I left her to go in the military.
So with Janice, my first and only true love, she is friends with the girl next door when i grew up, whose name is Missy. I had a huge crush on Missy when I was in my early teen years. Missy was my first real crush on a girl.
So Missy’s friend Janice found me attractive. I found Janice pretty, but rather plain. My skills at judging women were premature at this stage in my life. It turns out that Janice is far from plain- she is rather exceptional in many ways.
Janice and I were very much in love with each other between the years of 1983 and 1984- a bit longer in my case. We actually lost our virginity to each other during this time in the back of her pea green 1973 Chevy Impala one summer night in the year 1983.
After I graduated high school in the year 1984, I decided I needed to improve myself greatly- for Janice. So I joined the Navy as a medic. I’ve always had an interest in helping others, and in medicine. This passion remains alive within me to this day.
Our relationship ended as many do at our young ages at the time soon after I left for the military. I’ve never forgotten about Janice- and I still think of her daily. She married the same year I did in 1990. She had two daughters with her husband before they divorced in the year 1998.
It was great being in love with Janice. I would re-live this great and joyful pain of such love in a New York minute. Even this pain was quite devastating at times, I would always strive to see and visit with Janice whenever I could, and whenever she would allow me to do so.
I wished to hold her. So when I was fortunate enough to see Janice, I’d experience the most welcome pain in my heart- as it would really stop when I’d first catch sight of Janice during those years after our break up in 1984.
I’d hold Janice, and I would pray to the romantic Gods that seconds would manifest into minutes. So I would hold and hug Janice as long as I was allowed to do so. I would close my eyes as I would completely absorb her as I held her. I would never trade this pain I continue to feel within me.
Not long ago, when I was making a lot of money, I’d visit Janice at her home a few times a month- and we would talk into the late hours of the night. this was after Janice divorced her husband. I never got intimate with Janice this year or so I did this- did these visits with her.
I enjoyed the harmless time with Janice. Also, at times, I’d try and financially help Janice and her daughters- when she would allow me to do this. Janice was a schoolteacher, and did not make a lot of money. I did not mind helping her in this way at all. I considered myself rather wealthy at the time.
Janice finally re-married to a fairly decent guy, and she moved to Erie, PA 4 years ago. By chance, I saw her at a store only the day before she moved. That was the last time I saw Janice. I did however speak with her on the phone only months ago. Like I said, she is always in my thoughts.
Week Six:
The following is a continuation of notes I composed to another while wrongfully imprisoned recently:
Recently, I met a black guy here with a tattoo of the staff of Aesculapius on his forearm. This is a medical symbol, and it turns out he got this tattoo in honor if his father, who was a medic in the Vietnam war.
I’m watching, ‘Funniest Home Videos’, with other inmates at this time. This show is also rather unfortunate, but not as bad as, ‘The Jerry Springer Show’. We fortunately do watch, “The Simpsons”, daily here.
This is a good thing, compared to the other dumb ass mind-numbing shows on TV here that most inmates choose to watch. I watch television rarely- here in jail or anyplace else.
I continue to offer diagnoses to other inmates here in jail. There are more tinea versicolor cases in my unit in jail. These are typical fungal skin infections. Another inmate had a lipoma on his neck- which is a fat cyst. Another guy has gynecomastia. Other cases were atopic dermatitis with unknown etiology.
Back to the rashes here in jail: The inmates are overly concerned about minor medical issues such as these. The inmates can in fact order tolnaftate and hydrocortisone on their own.
Yet most if not all inmates do not know about these topical creams, and that these creams will successfully treat most rashes acquired by jail inmates. So I have educated them on these treatment options, and may give a class on the various medicinal products inmates can order, and how they may benefit them.
There are many chronically poor people in jail. They trip out a bit when I tell them I was once a corporate executive for an entire decade. They wonder what the f*** I’m doing here in jail. So do I.
They also think the world of me if I happen to share small items with them- such as candy or coffee. Cause in jail, you never share with other inmates. I mean, if you do this, you are being perhaps nice and kind. This could ironically get your ass kicked often.
There is a very nice black guy here in jail with me named Courtney. I noticed deep scars on his back one day. He was slashed several times in downtown St. Louis not long ago. And yet he still is a kind guy. That is character
My marriage served a needed purpose. My daughter Hayley was conceived and born. I completely raised Hayley with all of my love for most of her life. So mission completed with tremendous joy.
I finally got some needed sleep last night here in jail. My emotions were greatly elevated yesterday due to lack of sleep, and I found myself greatly depressed as a result. Today is much better.
It is Columbus day today. I’m pissed, because aside from the meals here in jail, there is not much to look forward to this day. There will be no mail received by inmates today.
I somehow sprained my right knee since I’ve been in jail. It’s a medial meniscus tear- and feels like a first or second degree sprain. I need to brace this knee for about a week so it can heal. In jail, we actually sleep on steel with a very thin covering. This may somehow be the cause of my sprain.
It’s pretty outside here for October. The leaves are starting to change.
Jacki- please do not worry about me. I felt that you were concerned as I read your words to me in a recent letter. I’m not suffering, and I know why I am here in jail. It is a battle I needed to fight. I do not pick my battles. I fight those that need to be fought.
I look outside the small window in my cell in jail, and I see free people. This sucks out loud. I also see a great father and his child right now. This is going to be a long f****** day, I can tell already.
For breakfast, we had hard-boiled eggs here. As I ate these eggs, I could not help but to think of the movie, “Cool Hand Luke.”
Usually, I crash here in jail well after midnight. A small breakfast is served after I sleep for these few hours. Then, I basically read and write till lunch arrives here at noon. Dinner is at 5 p.m.
Mail gets here about 8 p.m. Then the same day is lived in the days that follow. Laundry arrives fresh on Mondays and Thursdays here in jail. We as inmates are allowed to buy and order treats and such on Sundays. These items are then delivered to us on Wednesdays.
I am so lonely.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Living Life At Rock Bottom
As of today, I've been homeless for a bit over two and a half years.
Right after becoming homeless, I tried to stay with friends. But that never seemed to be a comfortable situation for me. Such friends did not understand how I became homeless, so my relationship with such friends was often fractured, I'm sad to say. Such friends also included former lovers. No situation staying with such friends ever worked. My stay with such friends was often brief, and unpleasant for me.
So, I began staying at a homeless shelter.- specifically, a shelter contracted by the veterans administration because, by definition, I am a homeless veteran. This meant I was living with several other people, at the same location. It's community living, and this is something I had not experienced since my days in the military.
For the past several months, I've been staying at a Salvation Army. The VA contracted a floor at this salvation army for homeless veterans who are recovering drug addicts. In addition to being homeless, I am also a recovering drug addict. This floor holds about 40 homeless veterans. It is a comfortable place to stay. At this location, the homeless veterans have three TVs, four refrigerators, two microwaves, two phones, and two computers.
In addition to the salvation army providing meals for us, we as homeless veterans also often have food stamps. We would often buy additional food for us to have where we lived, to supplement the meals provided to us where we stayed, with these food stamps. So, with many homeless veterans at this location, obesity was a problem.
This obesity experienced by many other veterans staying with me at the salvation army was not only due to the additional food available to these now overweight homeless veterans, but also due to the medication these veterans would often take, as prescribed to them by their VA psychiatrists, often. Such medications would often cause them to gain weight.
Many veterans I stay with at this salvation army were trying to get disability benefits, for mental illnesses. So, they would be diagnosed with various mental health disease states by their VA psychiatrists, and take these often toxic mediations, as prescribed to them. Whether or not such veterans actually had such mental illnesses is a topic of debate. Regardless, because they wanted mental health disability benefits, they would be diagnosed with a variety of mental health illnesses, and take often many drugs for these illnesses.
Usually, the TVs at the salvation army where we stayed were designated for specific reasons, by the veterans. One TV would be for those who wish to watch sports. Another TV would be dedicated to those veterans who wished to watch the news or TV shows. And another TV would be dedicated for those who wish to watch movies.
Often, the homeless veterans would get bootleg DVD movies. These would be movies currently playing in theatres would be acquired by some veterans, on DVD disks. Don't ask me how certain veterans acquired these movies, but it was nice watching current movies, where I stayed.
Myself, I never watched much TV, so I was on the computers at this location often. Many I stayed with at this salvation army were not very literate, so they did not utilize the computers available to us, at the salvation army. During the long days at the salvation army, I would look for jobs on these computers, and often help many other homeless veterans write whatever they may want written. This would include letters such veterans wanted to receive additional VA benefits, cover letters they wanted me to create for certain jobs they wanted, or letters to lawyers, often. I did not mind helping my fellow veterans, in this way.
Most homeless people, including homeless veterans, smoke. We call cigarettes squares, and acquiring cigarettes is often a main goal for us smokers, since most of us do not have any money on us at all. As a general rule, I'll ask for cigarettes from those homeless veterans who do have some sort of income, and smoke. And, if I happen to get some money and have cigarettes, I'll share these cigarettes with others. I've been known to find cigarette butts on the ground, and smoke those.
Making money as a homeless person is often difficult, because we, as homeless people, are often unemployable for a variety of reasons. Any money I've made as a homeless person has been untraceable, which is money paid to me under the table. Such jobs may include cleaning an athletic stadium. Or helping a political candidate get elected.
Such opportunities to work are rare, I'm sorry to say. With whatever money I may make doing such jobs, I often buy cigarettes, and cards and stamps, to write my girlfriend and daughter. Other homeless people use such small amounts of money to buy alcohol or other often illegal drugs. I choose to remain free from such substances, myself.
Many I stayed with at this salvation army were African American people. This was not a concern with me, because historically, I've gotten along with a wide variety of people, of different races. Most of these men I stayed with at this salvation army accepted me living with them there. I became friends with a few of these African American men. Some, however, seemed to dislike me due to my race. I understand this, in a way, especially with some of the older African American men I stay with, at this location. I imagine they were not treated so well, by those of my race, especially in their youth.
Many homeless veterans I stayed with at this salvation army spent a great deal of their lives incarcerated, often for drug offenses. By the way, if you are incarcerated for a felony drug offense, you do not receive food stamps. I still do not understand why those trying to recover are not entitled to food stamps.
With those imprisoned often for long periods of time especially, it appears this as a negative effect on their social functioning, I believe. Many former inmates do not trust others, easily. In time, such ex convicts learned to trust me. But initially, such people did not trust me or any others at all, at the salvation army. This is understandable, considering living often for years behind bars, with I imagine some very mean and evil people.
Some I stay with at the salvation army who have been locked up also seem to be very impatient, with a few having clear anger issues. Others talk all the time, and they are very loud. And then there are others who barely talk at all. They keep to themselves, always, those who rarely speak. Personally, I don't think isolation is very healthy for anyone.
However, and often, such ex convicts that I stayed with at this salvation army were very intelligent and kind people. Many ex convicts who are now my room mates were helpful to me, and I became friends with them, where we stayed. They fully realize, as I do, how they fucked up their lives in the past, and are, as I am, trying to improve their lives today.
I find some men I stay with to be very unique and amazing people. Some have a few college degrees, with one I know having a PhD. How they ended up here with me remains a mystery. Often, we as homeless people do not discuss how we actually became homelesss with other homeless people. Often, it takes just one event to make a person homeless. And for those of us who are homeless now who actually use to have many tangible possessions, it is in fact a very short distance from the limosuine to the ditch.
It is my belief that people are people. They are not black or white, nor are they free or imprisoned. Rather, they are human, and I treat them as such. I, as with may others I stayed with at this salvation army, do not judge others based on their past, because I was not them in their past, and I do not know the path they have walked, in their past. We are just trying to get back on our feet, in some way, after losing everything we may have had, often.
Each of us are on our own unique journey in life. Myself, I try and facilitate the journey of another whenever I'm allowed to do so, by such an individual. It is my belief that we are all in this thing we call life, together.
Right after becoming homeless, I tried to stay with friends. But that never seemed to be a comfortable situation for me. Such friends did not understand how I became homeless, so my relationship with such friends was often fractured, I'm sad to say. Such friends also included former lovers. No situation staying with such friends ever worked. My stay with such friends was often brief, and unpleasant for me.
So, I began staying at a homeless shelter.- specifically, a shelter contracted by the veterans administration because, by definition, I am a homeless veteran. This meant I was living with several other people, at the same location. It's community living, and this is something I had not experienced since my days in the military.
For the past several months, I've been staying at a Salvation Army. The VA contracted a floor at this salvation army for homeless veterans who are recovering drug addicts. In addition to being homeless, I am also a recovering drug addict. This floor holds about 40 homeless veterans. It is a comfortable place to stay. At this location, the homeless veterans have three TVs, four refrigerators, two microwaves, two phones, and two computers.
In addition to the salvation army providing meals for us, we as homeless veterans also often have food stamps. We would often buy additional food for us to have where we lived, to supplement the meals provided to us where we stayed, with these food stamps. So, with many homeless veterans at this location, obesity was a problem.
This obesity experienced by many other veterans staying with me at the salvation army was not only due to the additional food available to these now overweight homeless veterans, but also due to the medication these veterans would often take, as prescribed to them by their VA psychiatrists, often. Such medications would often cause them to gain weight.
Many veterans I stay with at this salvation army were trying to get disability benefits, for mental illnesses. So, they would be diagnosed with various mental health disease states by their VA psychiatrists, and take these often toxic mediations, as prescribed to them. Whether or not such veterans actually had such mental illnesses is a topic of debate. Regardless, because they wanted mental health disability benefits, they would be diagnosed with a variety of mental health illnesses, and take often many drugs for these illnesses.
Usually, the TVs at the salvation army where we stayed were designated for specific reasons, by the veterans. One TV would be for those who wish to watch sports. Another TV would be dedicated to those veterans who wished to watch the news or TV shows. And another TV would be dedicated for those who wish to watch movies.
Often, the homeless veterans would get bootleg DVD movies. These would be movies currently playing in theatres would be acquired by some veterans, on DVD disks. Don't ask me how certain veterans acquired these movies, but it was nice watching current movies, where I stayed.
Myself, I never watched much TV, so I was on the computers at this location often. Many I stayed with at this salvation army were not very literate, so they did not utilize the computers available to us, at the salvation army. During the long days at the salvation army, I would look for jobs on these computers, and often help many other homeless veterans write whatever they may want written. This would include letters such veterans wanted to receive additional VA benefits, cover letters they wanted me to create for certain jobs they wanted, or letters to lawyers, often. I did not mind helping my fellow veterans, in this way.
Most homeless people, including homeless veterans, smoke. We call cigarettes squares, and acquiring cigarettes is often a main goal for us smokers, since most of us do not have any money on us at all. As a general rule, I'll ask for cigarettes from those homeless veterans who do have some sort of income, and smoke. And, if I happen to get some money and have cigarettes, I'll share these cigarettes with others. I've been known to find cigarette butts on the ground, and smoke those.
Making money as a homeless person is often difficult, because we, as homeless people, are often unemployable for a variety of reasons. Any money I've made as a homeless person has been untraceable, which is money paid to me under the table. Such jobs may include cleaning an athletic stadium. Or helping a political candidate get elected.
Such opportunities to work are rare, I'm sorry to say. With whatever money I may make doing such jobs, I often buy cigarettes, and cards and stamps, to write my girlfriend and daughter. Other homeless people use such small amounts of money to buy alcohol or other often illegal drugs. I choose to remain free from such substances, myself.
Many I stayed with at this salvation army were African American people. This was not a concern with me, because historically, I've gotten along with a wide variety of people, of different races. Most of these men I stayed with at this salvation army accepted me living with them there. I became friends with a few of these African American men. Some, however, seemed to dislike me due to my race. I understand this, in a way, especially with some of the older African American men I stay with, at this location. I imagine they were not treated so well, by those of my race, especially in their youth.
Many homeless veterans I stayed with at this salvation army spent a great deal of their lives incarcerated, often for drug offenses. By the way, if you are incarcerated for a felony drug offense, you do not receive food stamps. I still do not understand why those trying to recover are not entitled to food stamps.
With those imprisoned often for long periods of time especially, it appears this as a negative effect on their social functioning, I believe. Many former inmates do not trust others, easily. In time, such ex convicts learned to trust me. But initially, such people did not trust me or any others at all, at the salvation army. This is understandable, considering living often for years behind bars, with I imagine some very mean and evil people.
Some I stay with at the salvation army who have been locked up also seem to be very impatient, with a few having clear anger issues. Others talk all the time, and they are very loud. And then there are others who barely talk at all. They keep to themselves, always, those who rarely speak. Personally, I don't think isolation is very healthy for anyone.
However, and often, such ex convicts that I stayed with at this salvation army were very intelligent and kind people. Many ex convicts who are now my room mates were helpful to me, and I became friends with them, where we stayed. They fully realize, as I do, how they fucked up their lives in the past, and are, as I am, trying to improve their lives today.
I find some men I stay with to be very unique and amazing people. Some have a few college degrees, with one I know having a PhD. How they ended up here with me remains a mystery. Often, we as homeless people do not discuss how we actually became homelesss with other homeless people. Often, it takes just one event to make a person homeless. And for those of us who are homeless now who actually use to have many tangible possessions, it is in fact a very short distance from the limosuine to the ditch.
It is my belief that people are people. They are not black or white, nor are they free or imprisoned. Rather, they are human, and I treat them as such. I, as with may others I stayed with at this salvation army, do not judge others based on their past, because I was not them in their past, and I do not know the path they have walked, in their past. We are just trying to get back on our feet, in some way, after losing everything we may have had, often.
Each of us are on our own unique journey in life. Myself, I try and facilitate the journey of another whenever I'm allowed to do so, by such an individual. It is my belief that we are all in this thing we call life, together.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Pen Pals
In August of 2009, my wife of 20 years filed false claims against me of violently abusing her one unforgettable day that month.
The restraining order insanely issued against me due to these false claims remains in effect to this day, and likely will for quite some time. I remain homeless and unemployed due to this viscious act committed by my former spouse.
Molly, my now ex wife, did this in order to acquire a tactical advantage in a divorce she clearly wants that I was completely unaware of until she filed this retraining order against me that prevents me from having any contact whatsoever with my daughter as well, whose name is Hayley. The pain from this particular strike against me is indescribable.
My wife told her free army of legal professionals that she suspects that child abuse was happening by me against Hayley. This particular claim is far more absurd than the abuse claims Molly made about me, which included a claim by Molly that I tried to kill her one night.
So of course, I ended up in jail in the first time of my 43 years soon after these false allegations were made against me by Molly.
The second night I was in jail, I decided to write Hayley a letter.
Now, writing Hayley fractures the restraining order falsely issued against me, since this is contacting Hayley in this manner. But since I was already in jail, I really was not concerned about breaking this abusive enforcement of psychotic laws now against me.
As I wrote her that night, I was not the fun dad I usually am with Hayley due to my state of mind. However, I never wrote anything to Hayley indicating hatred or anger towards her mother, Molly. Nor did I, in my words to Hayley, debate her mother's false accusations against me.
My undergrad is in child psychology, and I learned with my education that it is never a good idea to attack a parent in any way during a split of the parents, which is what is happening with our family right now. So I wrote to Hayley that I will always love her mother because her mother gave Hayley to me almost 12 years ago. This is the woman who put me in jail.
I also wrote to Hayley that the destruction happening to our family right now is difficult to understand for both of us, but we should try and grasp this situation together in time. I told Hayley with my writing to her that I loved and missed her, and that I hoped she would write me back soon.
I mailed this letter to her grandparent's house. These are Molly's parents, and are very wonderful people who have been married for more than 60 years. They understand the importance of a father in a child's life.
I only mailed this letter to Hayley after trading my breakfast the next day in order to get a stamped envelope from another inmate.
Hayley wrote me back soon afterwards, and I was thrilled beyond belief. Yet her letter understandably was cautious. She shared a bit with me about school and her friends. What really got me was the end of her letter to me:
P.S. Daddy- everything is going to be OK, no matter what....
I cried when I read this from her. She understands more than I fully realize about my own frame of mind, and what is happening to our family right now. I shed tears as I recall this that she wrote. She wrecked her father, and this is not the first time.
So my next letter to Hayley was much more jovial than my initial letter to her:
Dear Hayley....Hey, guess what? We are pen pals now.....YAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!
Then I went on to tell her how cool she is. I discussed what she wanted to be for halloween. I effortlessly made her laugh what I wrote to her in this letter. The words I shared with Hayley came from my heart.
Her next letter to me was much more upbeat. She was thrilled that we were pen pals now. She expressed clearly how happy she was that she was getting mail from her daddy now. This made me comforted greatly. I was at peace with her emotional and mental state now.
The next letter composed by me to Hayley was apparently as enjoyable to her as she read this. The letter included beautiful drawings from Tommy, my cell mate in jail. Hayley put the drawings by Tommy that I mailed to her on her school locker walls, she told me in her writing to me afterwards.
Tommy, my cell mate artist during that time, is a 22 year old homeless guy who was in jail for assault on another adult. He had been homeless for much of his life. And Tommy did have anger issues.
It took me about 2 weeks to gain his trust. Once this happened, I discussed with Tommy more benign outlets for his anger urges, and the importance of thinking before acting. Tommy also has done illegal drugs, so we discussed the impact of such drugs on his health and behavior.
I'm in jail with Tommy due to accusations that I'm a violent person- accusations against my wife from my wife. Yet I'm doing anger management with guys like Tommy.
Irony and surrealism were banging on my cell door with this reality at the time.
My family is destroyed. My family is gone. I have to learn to live with this. Yet this dialogue with Hayley is a very positive element to what is happening to our family. I was able to achieve and create joy simply by establishing a pen pal relationship with Hayley.
It has been said that great humor has an apex of great pain. I understand this more clearly now.
As I was released from jail, I was told never to write my daughter again. This violates the restraining order, the judge told me. I'm still in shock by this order to me by the judge via my wife's free prosecutor. I create joy in the middle of great pain, and I'm told to discontinue creating such joy.
It's now been almost two years since I was wrongfully incarcerated.
All tangible assets I did have were acquired and often sold by my now ex wife. Personal items of great value to me are now gone, due to my ex wife. Everything is just gone.
I remain homeless and unfortuantely unemployed.
For over two years, after my ex wife did this to me, I hand wrote my daughter at least once a week, and sent her money, when I could. Rarely did she ever write me back, but I still continued to write her. Presently, my daughter has a lot of hatred and anger towards me, and does not want to hear from me at all.
Because this family law system that exists unfortuantely worldwide is unacceptable. I'm was essentially punished for loving my daughter. I'm was and am punished for assuring the well being of my daughter Hayley mentally and emotionally.
These are the laws that exist in our country, and they must be discontinued.
The restraining order insanely issued against me due to these false claims remains in effect to this day, and likely will for quite some time. I remain homeless and unemployed due to this viscious act committed by my former spouse.
Molly, my now ex wife, did this in order to acquire a tactical advantage in a divorce she clearly wants that I was completely unaware of until she filed this retraining order against me that prevents me from having any contact whatsoever with my daughter as well, whose name is Hayley. The pain from this particular strike against me is indescribable.
My wife told her free army of legal professionals that she suspects that child abuse was happening by me against Hayley. This particular claim is far more absurd than the abuse claims Molly made about me, which included a claim by Molly that I tried to kill her one night.
So of course, I ended up in jail in the first time of my 43 years soon after these false allegations were made against me by Molly.
The second night I was in jail, I decided to write Hayley a letter.
Now, writing Hayley fractures the restraining order falsely issued against me, since this is contacting Hayley in this manner. But since I was already in jail, I really was not concerned about breaking this abusive enforcement of psychotic laws now against me.
As I wrote her that night, I was not the fun dad I usually am with Hayley due to my state of mind. However, I never wrote anything to Hayley indicating hatred or anger towards her mother, Molly. Nor did I, in my words to Hayley, debate her mother's false accusations against me.
My undergrad is in child psychology, and I learned with my education that it is never a good idea to attack a parent in any way during a split of the parents, which is what is happening with our family right now. So I wrote to Hayley that I will always love her mother because her mother gave Hayley to me almost 12 years ago. This is the woman who put me in jail.
I also wrote to Hayley that the destruction happening to our family right now is difficult to understand for both of us, but we should try and grasp this situation together in time. I told Hayley with my writing to her that I loved and missed her, and that I hoped she would write me back soon.
I mailed this letter to her grandparent's house. These are Molly's parents, and are very wonderful people who have been married for more than 60 years. They understand the importance of a father in a child's life.
I only mailed this letter to Hayley after trading my breakfast the next day in order to get a stamped envelope from another inmate.
Hayley wrote me back soon afterwards, and I was thrilled beyond belief. Yet her letter understandably was cautious. She shared a bit with me about school and her friends. What really got me was the end of her letter to me:
P.S. Daddy- everything is going to be OK, no matter what....
I cried when I read this from her. She understands more than I fully realize about my own frame of mind, and what is happening to our family right now. I shed tears as I recall this that she wrote. She wrecked her father, and this is not the first time.
So my next letter to Hayley was much more jovial than my initial letter to her:
Dear Hayley....Hey, guess what? We are pen pals now.....YAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!
Then I went on to tell her how cool she is. I discussed what she wanted to be for halloween. I effortlessly made her laugh what I wrote to her in this letter. The words I shared with Hayley came from my heart.
Her next letter to me was much more upbeat. She was thrilled that we were pen pals now. She expressed clearly how happy she was that she was getting mail from her daddy now. This made me comforted greatly. I was at peace with her emotional and mental state now.
The next letter composed by me to Hayley was apparently as enjoyable to her as she read this. The letter included beautiful drawings from Tommy, my cell mate in jail. Hayley put the drawings by Tommy that I mailed to her on her school locker walls, she told me in her writing to me afterwards.
Tommy, my cell mate artist during that time, is a 22 year old homeless guy who was in jail for assault on another adult. He had been homeless for much of his life. And Tommy did have anger issues.
It took me about 2 weeks to gain his trust. Once this happened, I discussed with Tommy more benign outlets for his anger urges, and the importance of thinking before acting. Tommy also has done illegal drugs, so we discussed the impact of such drugs on his health and behavior.
I'm in jail with Tommy due to accusations that I'm a violent person- accusations against my wife from my wife. Yet I'm doing anger management with guys like Tommy.
Irony and surrealism were banging on my cell door with this reality at the time.
My family is destroyed. My family is gone. I have to learn to live with this. Yet this dialogue with Hayley is a very positive element to what is happening to our family. I was able to achieve and create joy simply by establishing a pen pal relationship with Hayley.
It has been said that great humor has an apex of great pain. I understand this more clearly now.
As I was released from jail, I was told never to write my daughter again. This violates the restraining order, the judge told me. I'm still in shock by this order to me by the judge via my wife's free prosecutor. I create joy in the middle of great pain, and I'm told to discontinue creating such joy.
It's now been almost two years since I was wrongfully incarcerated.
All tangible assets I did have were acquired and often sold by my now ex wife. Personal items of great value to me are now gone, due to my ex wife. Everything is just gone.
I remain homeless and unfortuantely unemployed.
For over two years, after my ex wife did this to me, I hand wrote my daughter at least once a week, and sent her money, when I could. Rarely did she ever write me back, but I still continued to write her. Presently, my daughter has a lot of hatred and anger towards me, and does not want to hear from me at all.
Because this family law system that exists unfortuantely worldwide is unacceptable. I'm was essentially punished for loving my daughter. I'm was and am punished for assuring the well being of my daughter Hayley mentally and emotionally.
These are the laws that exist in our country, and they must be discontinued.
Friday, March 2, 2012
My New And Final Life Partner, I Met Online
Social network sites can bring people together, who likely would have normally not met. Often, these relationships can be meaningful, and beneficial for those who form such relationships. Some of these relationships can and do become intimate. Marriages can happen, from two people meeting on a social networking site such as Facebook.
Last year, I began a conversation with a girl I had never actually spoken with on the facebook site. We ended up chatting to each other either on this site or speaking on the phone in these past few months- daily, and often. By sharing words with each other, a solid trust has formed between us, that continues to this day.
A few months ago, this girl and I actually met, and we spent the weekend together. She drove a few hundred miles, to finally meet me. This was quite brave of her, considering I could of been a guy who would have harmed her, in some way. That is a risk we take, forming intimate relationships on social networking sites.
This weekend we spent together a few months ago ended up being one of the best weekends she and I had ever experienced, in our lives. We talked. We laughed. We made love. For 48 hours, we became one, this girl and I, during our weekend together, a few months ago.
I’m now in love, and we are engaged to be married, this girl and I.
Online relationships can work. These days, it’s often the only suitable method for seeking a life partner, or finding a life partner by chance, as she and I did. Myself, I live in a bad part of the city, so seeking a potentially intimate and meaningful relationship with a woman presently is very difficult, if not impossible.
With Carol, who is with me on pictures I’ve posted on facebook, I met her again on Facebook, and we started exchanging messages with each other for hours each day.
It’s necessary for both people to have some courage in order to progress with the relationship you intend to have, and hope for, on a social networking site. She was immediately open and honest with me, as I am with her still. We have enjoyed our words to each other, since day one.
Also, it’s necessary for each person to have some degree of faith, and to be largely absent of any cynicism and pessimism regarding any intimate relationship that may form. Carol and I both had very long marriages before we met, with people clearly not suitable for us, as individuals.
Any bitterness, regret, anger, or anxiety we had relating to our past relationships with intimate partners, we keep out of our own relationship, and this continues to this day.
Each person involved in an intimate relationship that may form on a social networking site must not have any paranoia about meeting a stranger in such a way. Again, we finally met a few months ago, Carol and I. And the weekend we spent together was entirely flawless, we feel. We have no fear or reservations about each other.
It helps if both people are extroverts, as she and I are, when forming an intimate relationship on a social networking site. This comfort we had and have towards each other is nothing like anything I had ever experienced in the past, with any other relationship I’ve had with anyone.
Because, like Carol, I began my relationship with her, free of any reservations about meeting a stranger. Also since day one, I do not judge Carol in any way, and she does not judge me. We simply enjoy each other, in a variety of ways.
We both have a very high degree of comfort with each other, due in large part to trusting each other. We made love almost immediately during our first weekend together, but the weekend was not about sex, a few months ago. The weekend was about enjoying each other’s company in person. She and I longed for this for months, before we actually met.
We spend most of our time together talking to each other, and laughing together, during this first weekend together. We were ourselves with each other during our weekend together, and it worked. We did not need to put on a different mask from who we really are, with each other.
I actually did propose to her, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I did this in less than 24 hours of actually meeting Carol.
That is how strong our feelings are for each other, in such a short period of time. Since we are both homeless right now, getting married any time soon will not happen.
Carol and I are about the same age, and both of us recently had our lives completely wrecked, which is why we are homeless. But, faith and hope is allowing us to continue with our relationship.
Our relationship is as real and powerful as any intimate relationship formed in traditional manners, such as meeting at a church or some other live social function. Or two people being introduced by family members or friends, possibly. Our union was born out of the exchange of words to each other, which is really all that matters.
Our physical attractiveness to each other helped facilitate our interest in each other, but the words we share with each other solidified the intensity of how we feel about each other. We will get married someday, and I do in fact love this girl as I have loved no other before her.
Today, I have moved closer to where Carol lives. I now see her live at least once a week. When I do see her in person, we, as we did our first weekend together, talk and laugh for hours. We still chat on facebook daily, and often. Be we are now very happy that our intimacy is more real, now that I live closer to her. We have hope, and that is always a good thing.
Last year, I began a conversation with a girl I had never actually spoken with on the facebook site. We ended up chatting to each other either on this site or speaking on the phone in these past few months- daily, and often. By sharing words with each other, a solid trust has formed between us, that continues to this day.
A few months ago, this girl and I actually met, and we spent the weekend together. She drove a few hundred miles, to finally meet me. This was quite brave of her, considering I could of been a guy who would have harmed her, in some way. That is a risk we take, forming intimate relationships on social networking sites.
This weekend we spent together a few months ago ended up being one of the best weekends she and I had ever experienced, in our lives. We talked. We laughed. We made love. For 48 hours, we became one, this girl and I, during our weekend together, a few months ago.
I’m now in love, and we are engaged to be married, this girl and I.
Online relationships can work. These days, it’s often the only suitable method for seeking a life partner, or finding a life partner by chance, as she and I did. Myself, I live in a bad part of the city, so seeking a potentially intimate and meaningful relationship with a woman presently is very difficult, if not impossible.
With Carol, who is with me on pictures I’ve posted on facebook, I met her again on Facebook, and we started exchanging messages with each other for hours each day.
It’s necessary for both people to have some courage in order to progress with the relationship you intend to have, and hope for, on a social networking site. She was immediately open and honest with me, as I am with her still. We have enjoyed our words to each other, since day one.
Also, it’s necessary for each person to have some degree of faith, and to be largely absent of any cynicism and pessimism regarding any intimate relationship that may form. Carol and I both had very long marriages before we met, with people clearly not suitable for us, as individuals.
Any bitterness, regret, anger, or anxiety we had relating to our past relationships with intimate partners, we keep out of our own relationship, and this continues to this day.
Each person involved in an intimate relationship that may form on a social networking site must not have any paranoia about meeting a stranger in such a way. Again, we finally met a few months ago, Carol and I. And the weekend we spent together was entirely flawless, we feel. We have no fear or reservations about each other.
It helps if both people are extroverts, as she and I are, when forming an intimate relationship on a social networking site. This comfort we had and have towards each other is nothing like anything I had ever experienced in the past, with any other relationship I’ve had with anyone.
Because, like Carol, I began my relationship with her, free of any reservations about meeting a stranger. Also since day one, I do not judge Carol in any way, and she does not judge me. We simply enjoy each other, in a variety of ways.
We both have a very high degree of comfort with each other, due in large part to trusting each other. We made love almost immediately during our first weekend together, but the weekend was not about sex, a few months ago. The weekend was about enjoying each other’s company in person. She and I longed for this for months, before we actually met.
We spend most of our time together talking to each other, and laughing together, during this first weekend together. We were ourselves with each other during our weekend together, and it worked. We did not need to put on a different mask from who we really are, with each other.
I actually did propose to her, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I did this in less than 24 hours of actually meeting Carol.
That is how strong our feelings are for each other, in such a short period of time. Since we are both homeless right now, getting married any time soon will not happen.
Carol and I are about the same age, and both of us recently had our lives completely wrecked, which is why we are homeless. But, faith and hope is allowing us to continue with our relationship.
Our relationship is as real and powerful as any intimate relationship formed in traditional manners, such as meeting at a church or some other live social function. Or two people being introduced by family members or friends, possibly. Our union was born out of the exchange of words to each other, which is really all that matters.
Our physical attractiveness to each other helped facilitate our interest in each other, but the words we share with each other solidified the intensity of how we feel about each other. We will get married someday, and I do in fact love this girl as I have loved no other before her.
Today, I have moved closer to where Carol lives. I now see her live at least once a week. When I do see her in person, we, as we did our first weekend together, talk and laugh for hours. We still chat on facebook daily, and often. Be we are now very happy that our intimacy is more real, now that I live closer to her. We have hope, and that is always a good thing.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Hitting Bottom- A Story Of Hope And Recovery
Last year, I was living with a friend in Indiana, as I continued to be broke and homeless.
I met this friend I stayed with in Indiana online, and he asked me to move up there with him, which I did in April, with a girl I met while living in Atlanta, who is homeless herself.
There is not much to do in rural Indiana, so I went to the library a lot, and wrote.
In July of last year, while living with this friend, I got a bunch of money, due to my father dying, and leaving me a life insurance policy for me, and it was over 11 thousand dollars.
To a homeless person, as I have been for over two years now, money like what I received is like a million dollars, at least. So, I bought a beat up truck that month, and drove back home to Missouri, after giving some money to my friends I stayed with in Indiana.
I had stayed with my friend in Indiana for three months, and helped him on his farm. I was ready to leave, and now was able to do so, with all this money I now had.
My life got crushed back home in Missouri. I had to move back there, to try and mend incredible damage done, due to the actions of my ex wife, combined with my own drug addiction, at the time my life was liquified, in the summer of 2009.
I went to drug rehab, soon after this happened to me in 2009, and I remain clean to this day.
Once I arrived back home, I sent a message to members of my own family, and family members of my ex wife, expressing my desire to mend relationships with those I love the most in life.
My own family members helped my ex wife destroy me after she initiated her attack on me, by the way.
I was never close with my family members due in part to child abuse I experienced, by certain family members, that was quite bad, and lasted for many years. I did forgive these family members, for helping my ex wife rid me of all assets I had, but they still choose not to speak with me, or help me in any way.
The next day, after sending this message to those I've cared about the most in life, they had me followed somehow, I believe, and I was arrested at a library, for an outstanding warrant, for violating probation in 2009. In 2009, I violated a restraining order issued against me by my ex wife, upon recommendation by a girl friend of hers, I believe, and was thrown in jail then, for the first time in my life.
I violated the restraining order by getting a pair of dress shoes from the back of my SUV, that my wife was now driving. She was not near the vehicle, yet this still violated the restraining order against me.
Most if not all men who are issued a restraining order violate it, due to the nature of the order. Usually, such orders issued against men are false and unnecessary, as was the case with me.
So, I'm arrested at this library. Had I not had the 2000 dollar cash only bond money on me at the time of this arrest, I would have gone to jail then. I defended myself in court the next month for this, and finally met the female prosecutor who had been trying to destroy me with my ex wife for two years.
The prosecutor immediately realized I'm not the man my ex wife illustrated me to be to her, and this prosecutor actually ended up defending me in court that day- getting me out of a mandatory jail sentence.
So, I spent the next few months living at the salvation army in St. Louis, with other homeless veterans, trying to recover from the pain of so many others ignoring me, and hating me.
These are people I cared about for a period spanning three decades. They passionately hate me now due to lies by my ex wife, and likely others.
They also hate me due to telling the truth about my ex wife, sharing this truth with many others.
My 13 year old daughter also hates me completely now, due to the lies of her mother, and others. I raised my daughter almost completely alone, for most of her childhood. Her mother never wanted to spend any time with her own daughter, which also pains me.
At least once a week for over two years, after her mother did this to me, I had wrote my daughter a letter, and mailed that to her with a card. Rarely did she ever respond to these letters I wrote her.
I mailed these letters to her to my ex in law's house, since I no longer know where my own daughter lives. So she received the letters I wrote to her, during this time. These letters I wrote to her were very warm and loving, and never mentioned her mother, or what happened to me, due to her mother.
So, I still had some money left over from my dad's life insurance policy, so every afternoon while staying at the salvation army in St. Louis, I would go to a nice restaurant, near where I was staying, and eat some good food, while reading a book in a relaxing atmosphere, speaking with attractive waitresses.
This was better therapy than anything the VA or any other could have offered me, as far as mental and emotional recovery goes. I got to feel civilized again, and I got to gather my thoughts, at these restaurants.
When you are homeless, and staying at a homeless shelter, living conditions suck. The people are understandably unhappy, if not angry, at such homeless shelters. Being around relatively happy people at these restaurants, and interacting with them, mended me greatly, I feel.
Due to relaxing at these restaurants, I was able to form a fantastic relationship with a girl I met online, during this time I was relaxing, at these places, due to my emotional and mental states recovering, finally.
This new and final love of my life actually drove a few hundred miles to finally meet me last fall. We had a weekend together that was unbelievably enjoyable, in St. Louis.
She is my fiancee now, this girl I met online.
At my visits to these restaurants, I would often hand write my fiancee a nice long letter, and mail it to her, with a card.
Because I have no one left back home in Missouri now, I recently moved to near where my fiancee lives, so I could continue to care for her. She lives with her mother, and she also had her life completely wrecked recently, my fiancee.
So I once again am staying with homeless veterans, near where she lives. Neither one of us has much if any money right now. Yet we still manage to see each other on weekends. When we do see each other, we spend our time together talking and laughing, for hours.
Both of us need each other in our lives, quite clearly. We both need and deserve the happiness we both now experience. It is my hope to get back on my feet soon, so I can care for my fiancee better than I can now.
The powers that brought us together, I hope, will also give me the ability to stabilize myself, so I can continue to love and care for my fiancee.
(More to follow, on how this relationship with my fiancee came to be...........)
I met this friend I stayed with in Indiana online, and he asked me to move up there with him, which I did in April, with a girl I met while living in Atlanta, who is homeless herself.
There is not much to do in rural Indiana, so I went to the library a lot, and wrote.
In July of last year, while living with this friend, I got a bunch of money, due to my father dying, and leaving me a life insurance policy for me, and it was over 11 thousand dollars.
To a homeless person, as I have been for over two years now, money like what I received is like a million dollars, at least. So, I bought a beat up truck that month, and drove back home to Missouri, after giving some money to my friends I stayed with in Indiana.
I had stayed with my friend in Indiana for three months, and helped him on his farm. I was ready to leave, and now was able to do so, with all this money I now had.
My life got crushed back home in Missouri. I had to move back there, to try and mend incredible damage done, due to the actions of my ex wife, combined with my own drug addiction, at the time my life was liquified, in the summer of 2009.
I went to drug rehab, soon after this happened to me in 2009, and I remain clean to this day.
Once I arrived back home, I sent a message to members of my own family, and family members of my ex wife, expressing my desire to mend relationships with those I love the most in life.
My own family members helped my ex wife destroy me after she initiated her attack on me, by the way.
I was never close with my family members due in part to child abuse I experienced, by certain family members, that was quite bad, and lasted for many years. I did forgive these family members, for helping my ex wife rid me of all assets I had, but they still choose not to speak with me, or help me in any way.
The next day, after sending this message to those I've cared about the most in life, they had me followed somehow, I believe, and I was arrested at a library, for an outstanding warrant, for violating probation in 2009. In 2009, I violated a restraining order issued against me by my ex wife, upon recommendation by a girl friend of hers, I believe, and was thrown in jail then, for the first time in my life.
I violated the restraining order by getting a pair of dress shoes from the back of my SUV, that my wife was now driving. She was not near the vehicle, yet this still violated the restraining order against me.
Most if not all men who are issued a restraining order violate it, due to the nature of the order. Usually, such orders issued against men are false and unnecessary, as was the case with me.
So, I'm arrested at this library. Had I not had the 2000 dollar cash only bond money on me at the time of this arrest, I would have gone to jail then. I defended myself in court the next month for this, and finally met the female prosecutor who had been trying to destroy me with my ex wife for two years.
The prosecutor immediately realized I'm not the man my ex wife illustrated me to be to her, and this prosecutor actually ended up defending me in court that day- getting me out of a mandatory jail sentence.
So, I spent the next few months living at the salvation army in St. Louis, with other homeless veterans, trying to recover from the pain of so many others ignoring me, and hating me.
These are people I cared about for a period spanning three decades. They passionately hate me now due to lies by my ex wife, and likely others.
They also hate me due to telling the truth about my ex wife, sharing this truth with many others.
My 13 year old daughter also hates me completely now, due to the lies of her mother, and others. I raised my daughter almost completely alone, for most of her childhood. Her mother never wanted to spend any time with her own daughter, which also pains me.
At least once a week for over two years, after her mother did this to me, I had wrote my daughter a letter, and mailed that to her with a card. Rarely did she ever respond to these letters I wrote her.
I mailed these letters to her to my ex in law's house, since I no longer know where my own daughter lives. So she received the letters I wrote to her, during this time. These letters I wrote to her were very warm and loving, and never mentioned her mother, or what happened to me, due to her mother.
So, I still had some money left over from my dad's life insurance policy, so every afternoon while staying at the salvation army in St. Louis, I would go to a nice restaurant, near where I was staying, and eat some good food, while reading a book in a relaxing atmosphere, speaking with attractive waitresses.
This was better therapy than anything the VA or any other could have offered me, as far as mental and emotional recovery goes. I got to feel civilized again, and I got to gather my thoughts, at these restaurants.
When you are homeless, and staying at a homeless shelter, living conditions suck. The people are understandably unhappy, if not angry, at such homeless shelters. Being around relatively happy people at these restaurants, and interacting with them, mended me greatly, I feel.
Due to relaxing at these restaurants, I was able to form a fantastic relationship with a girl I met online, during this time I was relaxing, at these places, due to my emotional and mental states recovering, finally.
This new and final love of my life actually drove a few hundred miles to finally meet me last fall. We had a weekend together that was unbelievably enjoyable, in St. Louis.
She is my fiancee now, this girl I met online.
At my visits to these restaurants, I would often hand write my fiancee a nice long letter, and mail it to her, with a card.
Because I have no one left back home in Missouri now, I recently moved to near where my fiancee lives, so I could continue to care for her. She lives with her mother, and she also had her life completely wrecked recently, my fiancee.
So I once again am staying with homeless veterans, near where she lives. Neither one of us has much if any money right now. Yet we still manage to see each other on weekends. When we do see each other, we spend our time together talking and laughing, for hours.
Both of us need each other in our lives, quite clearly. We both need and deserve the happiness we both now experience. It is my hope to get back on my feet soon, so I can care for my fiancee better than I can now.
The powers that brought us together, I hope, will also give me the ability to stabilize myself, so I can continue to love and care for my fiancee.
(More to follow, on how this relationship with my fiancee came to be...........)
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
My Drug Addiction
My name is Dan Abshear, and I am a recovering drug addict.
My substance abuse began with alcohol intake, in my early teens. My mother used to insist me and my older teen brother, also a young teenager, party with her, by getting drunk with her.
My mother would give alcohol to us, and my older brother's many young teenage friends, often. This went on for years. My mother, by the way, should have gone to prision for this, as this is contributing to the delinquency of minors, which is a felony. But, thanks to lazy cops and apathetic neighbors, this never happened.
However,I blame myself for my alcohol addiction, and no other. Like many other recovering drug addicts, I have a very addictive personality. That personality contributed to my abuse of substances such as alcohol.
My drinking continued to be heavy until the age of 37 or so. It was then I broke my back, sleigh riding with my daughter. And it was then, a doctor prescribed me vicodin.
Vicodin is known as an opoid analgesic. Opiates have been abused and used by many, for thousands of years (http://redroom.com/member/dan-abshear/blog/the-euphoric-violet-delight). The effect vicodin had on me was amazing.
Because, at least in my case, vicodin not only takes care of physical pain, but emotional pain as well. The drug provided a much wanted and welcomed euphoria in my life.
For those of you who are familiar with the T.V. show, "House". This is what Dr. House abuses, throughout the show.
So, while on vicodin, I stopped drinking, and started exercising intensely. I was able to do this, because I was pain free on vicodin. In fact, I got in the best shape of my life, while I continuously consumed more and more vicodin.
But, within two years, I was a full blown opiate addict. My tolerance increased with that drug, rapidly, so it seemed. I was taking between 10 and 20 high dose tablets a day, at the height of my addiction to this drug.
And, the euphoria I initially experienced with vicodin also faded to the point where it was unnoticeable. But, I kept taking vicodin, because withdrawals were not welcome, when I did not have vicodin in my system.
So, in the year of 2004 now, and I'm at a doctor convention with work. For many years, I did pharmaceutical sales, for very large pharmaceutical corporations. I'm at work with a younger guy, who noticed the tiredness and boredom of myself, and a couple of others, at this convention. This younger guy had some adderall on him, and offered a tablet to me, and a couple of others at this meeting.
Adderall is basically long acting amphetamines, used to treat ADD and narcolepsy. I had heard of the drug before, but never chose to take it. But, since I was a vicodin addict at this point in my life, I thought I would give it a try, and took the adderall pill at that doctor convention.
The effects of adderall were amazing. That night, my mind was at maximum efficiency, I felt. I began to write, and I wrote all night. It was as if adderall awakened these dormant neurons in my brain. I absolutely loved this drug.
It also initially increased my sex drive. While I had a high sex drive already, adderall initially intensified my orgasms. That combined with what I preceived to be maximum cognitive efficiency, I had found a new drug to love.
As with vicodin, I began to increase my intake of adderall as tolerance developed, while high on this drug. Also, with my adderall use, I did not sleep. In time, I started to experience hallucinations.
So I went to my favorite doctor who had been prescribing vicodin and adderall to me, and asked him for some benzodiazapines, better known as tranquilizers.
Benzos, as they are called, work on the GABA inhibitors in the brain- the same area of the brain that is affected by alchohol intake. So while on benzos, not only did I sleep, but I felt like I was drunk on this drug, on this class of drugs, which I also ended up abusing aggressively, of course.
Memory loss was a problem at this point in my life, and benzos made my memory problems much worse.
I'd say, from the years 2006 to 2009, my life is a blur. I recall very little, during this period in my life. This is all do to my enormous drug intake, from these drugs in particular.
My lovely wife at the time wanted me high on drugs all the time. We had marital issues she did not want to address. While high on drugs, I did not address these rather significant issues in our marriage. Because while high on drugs, I stopped caring about anyone, or anything.
She wanted me that way, completely full of these drugs I ended up abusing so badly, so she would go to her own doctor, and get me these drugs I was addicted to quite badly. So, I was high all the time, the last 3 years of our marriage in particular. She finally ended our marriage, my wife at the time, in the year 2009, by falsely accusing me of violently abusing her.
The law was on her side, with her false accusations, because when she did falsely accuse me of violently abusing her, I was this unemployed drug addict. Little does the law know that when I was high on these drugs, I could barely move.
I became almost completely dysfuctional, as I existed with toxic levels of the drugs vicodin, adderal, and the benzodiazapine. So abusing anyone was almost impossible, due to my toxic state, with all of these drugs in my system, almost constantly.
I also became isolated. I did not socialize with live people often. I'd just hang out at my house all day, and pop pills. The last year of my drug addiction, I was not the father to my daughter, I had been the years before this one.
Of all the destruction that has happened in my life due to my drug addiction, failing my daughter as a father the last year I was with her, will pain me for the rest of my life.
When my drug addiction finally ended, I was abusing vicodin, adderall, and a benzodiazapine, washing those pills down with about a case of beer a day. I re-acquired my alcohol intake, when vicodin stopped working for me. I was a complete train wreck, when I stopped abusing drugs, and I was also impotent, at times.
I entered drug rehab in the Spring of 2010, and I've never been compelled to use again. I was well aware I was a drug addict, when I was using these drugs Ive mentioned to you. But, I reached a point during my drug addiction where I was afraid I'd never be able to stop taking these drugs.
My addiction to them was that intense. I thought I'd be a full blown drug addict for the rest of my life. So once I stopped abusing these drugs, I never wanted to take them, ever again. And I don't miss the high from these drugs, either. I get high from other things in life now, instead of poisioning myself.
My health is remarkably well, considering what I abused for so long. There is no physical damage, from these drugs I took. Any damage I did to my brain from these drugs has been repaired, I believe.
Adderall, Vicodin, alcohol, and whatever benzodiazapine I could get my hands on- I don't miss you one bit. My experience with you was enjoyable and regrettable at the same time. You made me more aware, but you also almost kiiled me. You should not exist, but you do, and that saddens me, because that means you are harming many others now. It is my hope you are not used, by anyone, ever.
My substance abuse began with alcohol intake, in my early teens. My mother used to insist me and my older teen brother, also a young teenager, party with her, by getting drunk with her.
My mother would give alcohol to us, and my older brother's many young teenage friends, often. This went on for years. My mother, by the way, should have gone to prision for this, as this is contributing to the delinquency of minors, which is a felony. But, thanks to lazy cops and apathetic neighbors, this never happened.
However,I blame myself for my alcohol addiction, and no other. Like many other recovering drug addicts, I have a very addictive personality. That personality contributed to my abuse of substances such as alcohol.
My drinking continued to be heavy until the age of 37 or so. It was then I broke my back, sleigh riding with my daughter. And it was then, a doctor prescribed me vicodin.
Vicodin is known as an opoid analgesic. Opiates have been abused and used by many, for thousands of years (http://redroom.com/member/dan-abshear/blog/the-euphoric-violet-delight). The effect vicodin had on me was amazing.
Because, at least in my case, vicodin not only takes care of physical pain, but emotional pain as well. The drug provided a much wanted and welcomed euphoria in my life.
For those of you who are familiar with the T.V. show, "House". This is what Dr. House abuses, throughout the show.
So, while on vicodin, I stopped drinking, and started exercising intensely. I was able to do this, because I was pain free on vicodin. In fact, I got in the best shape of my life, while I continuously consumed more and more vicodin.
But, within two years, I was a full blown opiate addict. My tolerance increased with that drug, rapidly, so it seemed. I was taking between 10 and 20 high dose tablets a day, at the height of my addiction to this drug.
And, the euphoria I initially experienced with vicodin also faded to the point where it was unnoticeable. But, I kept taking vicodin, because withdrawals were not welcome, when I did not have vicodin in my system.
So, in the year of 2004 now, and I'm at a doctor convention with work. For many years, I did pharmaceutical sales, for very large pharmaceutical corporations. I'm at work with a younger guy, who noticed the tiredness and boredom of myself, and a couple of others, at this convention. This younger guy had some adderall on him, and offered a tablet to me, and a couple of others at this meeting.
Adderall is basically long acting amphetamines, used to treat ADD and narcolepsy. I had heard of the drug before, but never chose to take it. But, since I was a vicodin addict at this point in my life, I thought I would give it a try, and took the adderall pill at that doctor convention.
The effects of adderall were amazing. That night, my mind was at maximum efficiency, I felt. I began to write, and I wrote all night. It was as if adderall awakened these dormant neurons in my brain. I absolutely loved this drug.
It also initially increased my sex drive. While I had a high sex drive already, adderall initially intensified my orgasms. That combined with what I preceived to be maximum cognitive efficiency, I had found a new drug to love.
As with vicodin, I began to increase my intake of adderall as tolerance developed, while high on this drug. Also, with my adderall use, I did not sleep. In time, I started to experience hallucinations.
So I went to my favorite doctor who had been prescribing vicodin and adderall to me, and asked him for some benzodiazapines, better known as tranquilizers.
Benzos, as they are called, work on the GABA inhibitors in the brain- the same area of the brain that is affected by alchohol intake. So while on benzos, not only did I sleep, but I felt like I was drunk on this drug, on this class of drugs, which I also ended up abusing aggressively, of course.
Memory loss was a problem at this point in my life, and benzos made my memory problems much worse.
I'd say, from the years 2006 to 2009, my life is a blur. I recall very little, during this period in my life. This is all do to my enormous drug intake, from these drugs in particular.
My lovely wife at the time wanted me high on drugs all the time. We had marital issues she did not want to address. While high on drugs, I did not address these rather significant issues in our marriage. Because while high on drugs, I stopped caring about anyone, or anything.
She wanted me that way, completely full of these drugs I ended up abusing so badly, so she would go to her own doctor, and get me these drugs I was addicted to quite badly. So, I was high all the time, the last 3 years of our marriage in particular. She finally ended our marriage, my wife at the time, in the year 2009, by falsely accusing me of violently abusing her.
The law was on her side, with her false accusations, because when she did falsely accuse me of violently abusing her, I was this unemployed drug addict. Little does the law know that when I was high on these drugs, I could barely move.
I became almost completely dysfuctional, as I existed with toxic levels of the drugs vicodin, adderal, and the benzodiazapine. So abusing anyone was almost impossible, due to my toxic state, with all of these drugs in my system, almost constantly.
I also became isolated. I did not socialize with live people often. I'd just hang out at my house all day, and pop pills. The last year of my drug addiction, I was not the father to my daughter, I had been the years before this one.
Of all the destruction that has happened in my life due to my drug addiction, failing my daughter as a father the last year I was with her, will pain me for the rest of my life.
When my drug addiction finally ended, I was abusing vicodin, adderall, and a benzodiazapine, washing those pills down with about a case of beer a day. I re-acquired my alcohol intake, when vicodin stopped working for me. I was a complete train wreck, when I stopped abusing drugs, and I was also impotent, at times.
I entered drug rehab in the Spring of 2010, and I've never been compelled to use again. I was well aware I was a drug addict, when I was using these drugs Ive mentioned to you. But, I reached a point during my drug addiction where I was afraid I'd never be able to stop taking these drugs.
My addiction to them was that intense. I thought I'd be a full blown drug addict for the rest of my life. So once I stopped abusing these drugs, I never wanted to take them, ever again. And I don't miss the high from these drugs, either. I get high from other things in life now, instead of poisioning myself.
My health is remarkably well, considering what I abused for so long. There is no physical damage, from these drugs I took. Any damage I did to my brain from these drugs has been repaired, I believe.
Adderall, Vicodin, alcohol, and whatever benzodiazapine I could get my hands on- I don't miss you one bit. My experience with you was enjoyable and regrettable at the same time. You made me more aware, but you also almost kiiled me. You should not exist, but you do, and that saddens me, because that means you are harming many others now. It is my hope you are not used, by anyone, ever.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
A Very Angry Email From My Daughter, Hayley
As some know, over two years ago, my then wife filed a restraining order against me, falsely accusing me of physically abusing her. As a result of her lie, I not only lost everything, but anyone I felt close to, at the time.
The day after she filed this restraining order against me, she moved in with a desired lesbian lover, who also falsely accused her own husband at the time of physically abusing her some years ago.
I remain homeless, and presently live with other homeless veterans.
Out of all that I lost due to this lie by the ex wife, my greatest loss has been that of my daughter Hayley. Predictably, our relationship has become progressively fractured, since her mother decided to try and destroy me, with a small army of like minded women she recruited for that purpose.
In the two years that followed the eviction from my own home, I have hand wrote my daughter once a week. Rarely did she ever write me back. I have Hayley's email, but I do not have her phone number, nor does she wish to share that information with me.
During the past two years, I have wrote articles, describing not only what has happened in my life, but also about the true nature and disposition of my ex wife. These articles were widely read, and received a lot of criticism.
Some believed the content i composed in these articles were full of lies. Others praised me for my bravery, for sharing my pain with the world.
Out of desperation, I decided to finally share these articles with my daughter via email. I asked her to email me back, and this is what she wrote me.....
I'm conceerned about her anger and use of foul language, but I'm also impressed with her overall vocabulary.
The lies she has been told by her mother and others are quite obvious, with what she wrote me. While painful, this did not shock me as much as you would expect. This is parental alienation at it's finest, folks. It is my hope Hayley will re-acquire a relationship with me, when she is older:
You want an email? Fine. Ill give you an email.
Stop acting like YOUR the victim here. Your not. If you are looking for a reason why your family is so fucked up I'm sure there's a mirrior somewhere. You send me links to your blog about your girlfriend, and how mom is a lesbian and how you were blamed for molestation when I was younger.
You know what? You know what that means? It means I'm not your daughter. I'm just another person who reads your blogs. Another one of your pathetic audience you try and obligate to pity you.
You send me pictures and your stupid ass love letters from you to carol and carol to you but frankly I don't care. Not one bit. If your going to contact me, have some decency to at least ACT like you care about me.
I'm not stupid and I know your only trying to get to mom through me. Don't you know how much that hurts? Your ruining my life. I sat on the bus the other day, on the way home CRYING because I sat there and read an article you sent me.
Every single one, actually. And it sickens me to the core. We may have established a father daughter relationship but that's over. I want no more. When I get an email from you, I wanna hear about how much you miss me and wish you could see me.
Not about your heaps of LIES you tell to get sympathy from every fucking person who absentmindedly reads your articles. Unfortunetly, I'm one of those people. However, other than the others,
I know EXACTLY what your talking about and I know just as well as you do that its all BULLSHIT. Every. Single. Thing I have sent to you has been from me. And if you won't believe that, then writing to you is POINTLESS.
I obviously haven't, and I'm not going to. I could go for hours about this but its a waste of my time. Metaphoricly speaking, Your not the victim. Your the murderer. And I hope that all your little friends know damn well that's true.
Oh, and for the record, this is Hayley. Not mom. If you want me to prove it to you then fine. But I'm sick of getting hurt by you. Your supposed to be MY father, however, mom's boyfriend, is more of a father to me than you EVER were. Goodbye. I'm done with you.
-Hayley
The day after she filed this restraining order against me, she moved in with a desired lesbian lover, who also falsely accused her own husband at the time of physically abusing her some years ago.
I remain homeless, and presently live with other homeless veterans.
Out of all that I lost due to this lie by the ex wife, my greatest loss has been that of my daughter Hayley. Predictably, our relationship has become progressively fractured, since her mother decided to try and destroy me, with a small army of like minded women she recruited for that purpose.
In the two years that followed the eviction from my own home, I have hand wrote my daughter once a week. Rarely did she ever write me back. I have Hayley's email, but I do not have her phone number, nor does she wish to share that information with me.
During the past two years, I have wrote articles, describing not only what has happened in my life, but also about the true nature and disposition of my ex wife. These articles were widely read, and received a lot of criticism.
Some believed the content i composed in these articles were full of lies. Others praised me for my bravery, for sharing my pain with the world.
Out of desperation, I decided to finally share these articles with my daughter via email. I asked her to email me back, and this is what she wrote me.....
I'm conceerned about her anger and use of foul language, but I'm also impressed with her overall vocabulary.
The lies she has been told by her mother and others are quite obvious, with what she wrote me. While painful, this did not shock me as much as you would expect. This is parental alienation at it's finest, folks. It is my hope Hayley will re-acquire a relationship with me, when she is older:
You want an email? Fine. Ill give you an email.
Stop acting like YOUR the victim here. Your not. If you are looking for a reason why your family is so fucked up I'm sure there's a mirrior somewhere. You send me links to your blog about your girlfriend, and how mom is a lesbian and how you were blamed for molestation when I was younger.
You know what? You know what that means? It means I'm not your daughter. I'm just another person who reads your blogs. Another one of your pathetic audience you try and obligate to pity you.
You send me pictures and your stupid ass love letters from you to carol and carol to you but frankly I don't care. Not one bit. If your going to contact me, have some decency to at least ACT like you care about me.
I'm not stupid and I know your only trying to get to mom through me. Don't you know how much that hurts? Your ruining my life. I sat on the bus the other day, on the way home CRYING because I sat there and read an article you sent me.
Every single one, actually. And it sickens me to the core. We may have established a father daughter relationship but that's over. I want no more. When I get an email from you, I wanna hear about how much you miss me and wish you could see me.
Not about your heaps of LIES you tell to get sympathy from every fucking person who absentmindedly reads your articles. Unfortunetly, I'm one of those people. However, other than the others,
I know EXACTLY what your talking about and I know just as well as you do that its all BULLSHIT. Every. Single. Thing I have sent to you has been from me. And if you won't believe that, then writing to you is POINTLESS.
I obviously haven't, and I'm not going to. I could go for hours about this but its a waste of my time. Metaphoricly speaking, Your not the victim. Your the murderer. And I hope that all your little friends know damn well that's true.
Oh, and for the record, this is Hayley. Not mom. If you want me to prove it to you then fine. But I'm sick of getting hurt by you. Your supposed to be MY father, however, mom's boyfriend, is more of a father to me than you EVER were. Goodbye. I'm done with you.
-Hayley
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
The Value Of A Handwritten Note XII
Hi Baby,
Right now, I'm enjoying a cheap beer at the Fountain on Locust. This is a very comfortable place for me to be. There are a few people here, enjoying their afternoon. They appear to be mostly middle class people here right now. I use to be middle class, not long ago.
I'm wearing my sport coat right now. So, I look like I'm now middle class myself. I'm intentionally deceiving people, so they do not suspect I am in fact homeless. There are a couple of light skinned and attractive black girls here. My black friends call such light skinned black girls, 'red bones'.
They are waitresses here, and they both have very nice smiles. My chef salad for lunch earlier today was not bad. I feel I will lose some excess weight, once I am living in Milwaukee. I've never been this heavy in my life. My friend Patrick is in jail right now.
You may recall, Patrick is my older white friend at the salvation army, who is out of control. he still uses drugs, even though he is suppose to be doing drug rehab, with the rest of us. Patrick finally got kicked out of the salvation army earlier this week.
He got kicked out for breaking curfew here, and getting busted for using drugs. So during the night last night, he showed up at the salvation army, high on drugs, trying to get his stuff here, he did not take with him, when he was kicked out of the salvation army earlier this week.
Apparently, he got into a fight with security people there, and they called the police. He'll likely be in jail for a month or more. When I was in jail over 2 years ago, my cell mate was in jail for assault, and he did about a month there in jail.
The last long bus trip I took, was when I went to Atlanta, over 2 years ago. During that trip, I wrote my daughter Hayley a long letter, that is published on my blog. I also met a few interesting people, on that bus trip. Each of us are on our own unique journey in life.
So I find people interesting, for that reason. Also, I feel that sometime, I will write about community living, which is how I live now. I live with some very unusual people in this type of setting, and I also live with some very intelligent people right now.
During my time at the salvation army, I've become friends with those who initially did not seem to like me, for whatever reason. Kenny, I think I'll miss him the most. he is the older intelligent black friend I have at the salvation army, who watches movies when I'm on the computer there.
We find each other interesting, so we talk often- mainly about human nature. Also, I've decided that I will write a book, the next time I'm in jail. I will journal what I experience and notice, while in jail. The last time I was in jail, I mainly wrote letters to Jacki, who became my girlfriend in Atlanta.
Those letters I wrote to her are on my blog, and largely reflect my state of mind, at that time. I feel I am more stable now, so the next time I write while in jail, I'll be more objective. I'm glad I'm able to help quite a few people with writing letters and resumes, where I stay now.
And I find it shocking how many people older than me lack the skills to read and write. I find such skills essential to progress in life, yet they have made it this far without those skills. I'm done writing to you in this magical notebook now. I hope you are enjoying your time with Carolyn, and you will be with me very soon.
Right now, I'm enjoying a cheap beer at the Fountain on Locust. This is a very comfortable place for me to be. There are a few people here, enjoying their afternoon. They appear to be mostly middle class people here right now. I use to be middle class, not long ago.
I'm wearing my sport coat right now. So, I look like I'm now middle class myself. I'm intentionally deceiving people, so they do not suspect I am in fact homeless. There are a couple of light skinned and attractive black girls here. My black friends call such light skinned black girls, 'red bones'.
They are waitresses here, and they both have very nice smiles. My chef salad for lunch earlier today was not bad. I feel I will lose some excess weight, once I am living in Milwaukee. I've never been this heavy in my life. My friend Patrick is in jail right now.
You may recall, Patrick is my older white friend at the salvation army, who is out of control. he still uses drugs, even though he is suppose to be doing drug rehab, with the rest of us. Patrick finally got kicked out of the salvation army earlier this week.
He got kicked out for breaking curfew here, and getting busted for using drugs. So during the night last night, he showed up at the salvation army, high on drugs, trying to get his stuff here, he did not take with him, when he was kicked out of the salvation army earlier this week.
Apparently, he got into a fight with security people there, and they called the police. He'll likely be in jail for a month or more. When I was in jail over 2 years ago, my cell mate was in jail for assault, and he did about a month there in jail.
The last long bus trip I took, was when I went to Atlanta, over 2 years ago. During that trip, I wrote my daughter Hayley a long letter, that is published on my blog. I also met a few interesting people, on that bus trip. Each of us are on our own unique journey in life.
So I find people interesting, for that reason. Also, I feel that sometime, I will write about community living, which is how I live now. I live with some very unusual people in this type of setting, and I also live with some very intelligent people right now.
During my time at the salvation army, I've become friends with those who initially did not seem to like me, for whatever reason. Kenny, I think I'll miss him the most. he is the older intelligent black friend I have at the salvation army, who watches movies when I'm on the computer there.
We find each other interesting, so we talk often- mainly about human nature. Also, I've decided that I will write a book, the next time I'm in jail. I will journal what I experience and notice, while in jail. The last time I was in jail, I mainly wrote letters to Jacki, who became my girlfriend in Atlanta.
Those letters I wrote to her are on my blog, and largely reflect my state of mind, at that time. I feel I am more stable now, so the next time I write while in jail, I'll be more objective. I'm glad I'm able to help quite a few people with writing letters and resumes, where I stay now.
And I find it shocking how many people older than me lack the skills to read and write. I find such skills essential to progress in life, yet they have made it this far without those skills. I'm done writing to you in this magical notebook now. I hope you are enjoying your time with Carolyn, and you will be with me very soon.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
The Value Of A Handwritten Note XI
Recently, I began a relationship with a wonderful woman, who unfortunately lives a few hundred miles away from me right now. Presently, I stay at a Salvation Army with other military homeless veterans. This girl and I are able to speak on the phone, and chat on facebook, often
But my feelings for her go beyond these methods of communication. So, I began hand writing her letters, and I send these with a card in what is now referred to as snail mail.
I view this method of intimate communication at times a very under utilized form of sharing thoughts and feelings with another. I have not wrote letters in this way since high school, which was well before the advent of the internet.
In these letters I write to this amazing girl, I find myself sharing emotions more completely than sharing them in another way. I share my life with her, and I'm very thankful I'm able to do this with her. Here is one of those letters I sent to her, and I will continue to write her in this way as often as I can and wish:
Hi baby,
I decided to go to the Buffalo Brewery again today. And i'll probably have their ham and cheese sandwich, which is really good, and some fries.
It is still cool and rainy here today. My friends here are reminding me that it is much colder up there. but I have a coat and sweaters, along with jeans made for cold weather, so I should be fine.
I also have a new pair of boots, I got not long ago at what is called a stand down. A stand down is an event, where vets can go to a particular place, and get free stuff, which is usually clothes.
This last one I went to was at Warrenton, MO, which is about 60 miles west of where I live now. It's near Wentzville, which is where I lived before the ex had me evicted from my own home.
Anyway, it was a great day, the day me and other vets went to warrenton. The va charted a nice bus for us, that picked up up where we live.
So, at Warrenton, I got some sweatshirts, a blanked or quilt for my bed, and these boots. The boots were purchased for us at a nearby wal mart.
The rest of the stuff I got was at the event itself. Then after that, we went to a town called Wellsville, to drop off some people there. Wellsville is about 20 miles west of Warrenton, and I use to ride my bicycle there, for the ms 150.
The ms 150 is a 150 mile bicycle ride, that occurs on a weekend in September. it is to raise money for those with multiple sclerosis. about 2000 of us would ride from troy to Mexico, Mo, and back.
It is a lot of fun, that bicycle ride. bicyclists are very intense and addictive people. We'd get to Mexico, mo the first day, and they would have food and beer for us there.
And we would empty their beer truck within a couple of ours. then, we'd either camp out there in Mexico, or get a hotel room. I'd usually get a hotel room during that bicycle ride.
So, it's a 75 mile ride the first day, and we'd spend the night in mexico, and then ride back to troy, the next day. I really loved that bicycle ride.
i did that for about 10 years straight. I miss bicycling, and I hope to buy a bicycle once I am up there. In 1995, I rode across the state of missouri, with a few hundred people.
We did over 400 miles over an entire week, and camped out at state parks, during that trip. I did nave a couple of nice bicycles I use to ride all the time.
But those and everything else I owned were taken by my ex, when she decided to try and destroy me completely. So I decided to get chili here, instead of that sandwich, and it is really good.
This is a real comfortable and peaceful place, that also has great beer. Places like this are great escapes from the place I live, which is more or less like jail, except we get to have fresh air and smokes here.
Many people I stay with now spent a large part of their lives incarcerated, for one reason or another. With the people I live with, their social skills suck.
Most do not make an effort to know the names of those they live with, at the salvation army. They still think they are in prison, I suppose.
Myself, I know the first names of everyone I live with now. Most people I live with now seem to like and trust me. they think I'm a genius because I can read and write.
So far, I've helped quite a few with things such as cover letters and resumes. I'm glad they allow me to help them. With those long letters I write you, it's important to me that you know me as much as you can.
I really have no dark secrets in my life. Everything I've shared with you so far is the absolute truth. With what my ex did to me with the small army she recruited for that purpose, that could of made me into this very angry and bitter person.
Instead, and somehow, what she did to me has made me into a more loving and compassionate person. I'm glad I'm void of any anger or hatred about anything. this chili is really good.
And it goes good with the beer I now drink. I really hope, by the way, that the next 7 days go by quickly. I really am looking forward to my trip there.
I know this is the right thing for me to do. This is more or less a great love story, right? I now thank my magical notebook........
But my feelings for her go beyond these methods of communication. So, I began hand writing her letters, and I send these with a card in what is now referred to as snail mail.
I view this method of intimate communication at times a very under utilized form of sharing thoughts and feelings with another. I have not wrote letters in this way since high school, which was well before the advent of the internet.
In these letters I write to this amazing girl, I find myself sharing emotions more completely than sharing them in another way. I share my life with her, and I'm very thankful I'm able to do this with her. Here is one of those letters I sent to her, and I will continue to write her in this way as often as I can and wish:
Hi baby,
I decided to go to the Buffalo Brewery again today. And i'll probably have their ham and cheese sandwich, which is really good, and some fries.
It is still cool and rainy here today. My friends here are reminding me that it is much colder up there. but I have a coat and sweaters, along with jeans made for cold weather, so I should be fine.
I also have a new pair of boots, I got not long ago at what is called a stand down. A stand down is an event, where vets can go to a particular place, and get free stuff, which is usually clothes.
This last one I went to was at Warrenton, MO, which is about 60 miles west of where I live now. It's near Wentzville, which is where I lived before the ex had me evicted from my own home.
Anyway, it was a great day, the day me and other vets went to warrenton. The va charted a nice bus for us, that picked up up where we live.
So, at Warrenton, I got some sweatshirts, a blanked or quilt for my bed, and these boots. The boots were purchased for us at a nearby wal mart.
The rest of the stuff I got was at the event itself. Then after that, we went to a town called Wellsville, to drop off some people there. Wellsville is about 20 miles west of Warrenton, and I use to ride my bicycle there, for the ms 150.
The ms 150 is a 150 mile bicycle ride, that occurs on a weekend in September. it is to raise money for those with multiple sclerosis. about 2000 of us would ride from troy to Mexico, Mo, and back.
It is a lot of fun, that bicycle ride. bicyclists are very intense and addictive people. We'd get to Mexico, mo the first day, and they would have food and beer for us there.
And we would empty their beer truck within a couple of ours. then, we'd either camp out there in Mexico, or get a hotel room. I'd usually get a hotel room during that bicycle ride.
So, it's a 75 mile ride the first day, and we'd spend the night in mexico, and then ride back to troy, the next day. I really loved that bicycle ride.
i did that for about 10 years straight. I miss bicycling, and I hope to buy a bicycle once I am up there. In 1995, I rode across the state of missouri, with a few hundred people.
We did over 400 miles over an entire week, and camped out at state parks, during that trip. I did nave a couple of nice bicycles I use to ride all the time.
But those and everything else I owned were taken by my ex, when she decided to try and destroy me completely. So I decided to get chili here, instead of that sandwich, and it is really good.
This is a real comfortable and peaceful place, that also has great beer. Places like this are great escapes from the place I live, which is more or less like jail, except we get to have fresh air and smokes here.
Many people I stay with now spent a large part of their lives incarcerated, for one reason or another. With the people I live with, their social skills suck.
Most do not make an effort to know the names of those they live with, at the salvation army. They still think they are in prison, I suppose.
Myself, I know the first names of everyone I live with now. Most people I live with now seem to like and trust me. they think I'm a genius because I can read and write.
So far, I've helped quite a few with things such as cover letters and resumes. I'm glad they allow me to help them. With those long letters I write you, it's important to me that you know me as much as you can.
I really have no dark secrets in my life. Everything I've shared with you so far is the absolute truth. With what my ex did to me with the small army she recruited for that purpose, that could of made me into this very angry and bitter person.
Instead, and somehow, what she did to me has made me into a more loving and compassionate person. I'm glad I'm void of any anger or hatred about anything. this chili is really good.
And it goes good with the beer I now drink. I really hope, by the way, that the next 7 days go by quickly. I really am looking forward to my trip there.
I know this is the right thing for me to do. This is more or less a great love story, right? I now thank my magical notebook........
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