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.

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.

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.

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.

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...........)