Impulsive Behaviors 09'

My impulsive behaviors included the use and abuse of substances and people.  When children got on my nerves, I made a drink.  When the wife pissed me off, I went looking for someone to stroke my ego.  And when completely frustrated with life, I self destructed.  I'd do anything to make myself feel better.

I spent years of my life engaged in an orgy of drugs and sexual pleasures.  I allowed myself to be carried away with the mood of a party or indulge in the sex offered by random women.  Parties of the purest pleasure without consideration for my actions, or the implications.

October 16, 2006:  My impulsive behavior put me behind the wheel, racing down the road in a street machine of steel.  I was a madman at the wheel.  Driving like a maniac and couldn't go any faster.  I was headed for disaster.

The dangers of substance abuse should not be underestimated.  Intoxicants attack the body in various ways, from slowing reflexes to destroying coordination.  The lock the mind in the present, the here and now, without regard of the future, erasing memories pleasant and painful, without consideration of the past.

My impulsive behaviors have chapened so many things I held precious and that is why they have no future in my life.  I know the future will be better than the present but only as long as I work to make it so.  I will not allow my impulisve behaviors to destroy all I hope to achieve.

Prison 09'

I've got to get control over myself.  What's wrong with me?  I've lost control.  I'm used to being in control; throughout my life, in most situations, I've been in control.  I was able to effect my situation.  It was how I survived.  But here, I have no choice, it seems.  There's nothing I can do.....or is there?

I decided to welcome prison.  Welcome the soothing, cool darkness, welcome the silence.  I want the darkness, want the quiet.  I want time to reflect and think, decide on my course of action.  I need time to sort out my disturbing and confusing thoughts.

Society hope that prison will 'rehabilitate' us, that when we emerge from prison, our domineering, defiant, and cruel natures will be softened.  But something has gone wrong.  It simply isn't a mans nature to live in harmony with his fellow man.  The inmates are ruling over and controlling the lives of those weaker than themselves, depriving them of their limited freedom, forcing them to live in a manner deemed appropriate.

Patience is one virtue you learn early in prison.  Lose your temper, act impulsively, irrationally and prison will claim you.  Our guards, those who were supposed to protect us, have disappeared.  The system has failed.  The prison itself has taken over and turned from being rehabilitative to executioner.  Entire generations have been beat down.  Broken.  Countless number of people have died in this place.

There is pain, blood, and tears at every birth.  The baby always cries when it leaves it's safe place, it's quiet prison.  Yet, if it stayed in the womb, it would never grow and mature.  It would become a parasite, feeding off another body.  That's what we've become.  That's what we are.  Don't you see?  Don't you understand? 

For the Children 8-17-10

I've seen the world and know the people who live in it.  The world is a tough place, no doubt about it.  Sometimes it scares me to death thinking about whats out there:  cruelty, callousness, utter disregard and disrespect for fellow human beings.  And its not getting better, it's getting worse.  Seems to me society is pushing for its children to become minature adults, devoid of charm and the beauty of innocence.  Take a look around and you'll see what I'm talking about.

Most children want to hurry up and become adults, and then comes the day they wish they could be children again.  I'll tell you a secret.  No one ever grows up.  They may look grown up but its a diguise.  It's just the passing of time - aging.  Men and women are still children in their hearts.  They still would like to jump and play, and time doesn't allow it.  They'd like to shake off every chain the world has put upon them and return to the swimming pool, if just for one day.  They'd like to feel free and know that there's a mom and dad at home who'll take care of everything, and love them no matter what.

Have you ever wanted something but you don't know what it is?  Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?  I was never asked these questions as a child.  Of course, I wouldn't of had an answer; I was walking through life without actually seeing it.  I didn't know that happiness is a simple matter of being in the right place at the right time, with the right people.  And then I started making choices and ended up where I did.  Just goes to show you never know how things are going to turn out.  You may have a plan in mind, but before you can act upon it something happens and changes everything.

It is important that you remain flexible and open to change.  And remember.  Remember everything and anything.  It's way to easy to walk through life deaf, dumb and blind. So when you look at something, dont just look.  See it.  Really, really see it.  Don't let a day pass without remembering something of it, and then tuck that memory away like a treasure.  Because it is.

My Reaction 10/10/09

On October 16, 2006 I was behind the wheel racing down the road.  I was a madman, driving like a maniac, and met with disaster.  I ran my vehicle into another at 96 mph.  The car I hit went into the ditch, hit a stonewall and rolled over coming to rest against a tree.

I had ambitions and things I'd thought I would never be able to lose, but here I was on the verge of losing everything.  Was I a good person?  I had been once, I was sure of it, but that was before the car crash turned everything upside down.  How could one event destroy everything so completely?  I wondered what the future held for me.  At 30 I'd known everything about myself.  Now, at 32, I knew nothing.  I was flailing around, lost, and nothing made sense.

I feel into a deep depression that left me uncaring and emotionally unavailable.  I barely spoke to anyone.  I would look at my wife and children and not say a word.  I had withdrawn, retreated, and I was hurting everyone around me.  Some part of me would have liked to open up, but I didn't want the sympathy.  I couldn't bear it.  It was as if a part of me had died.  I accepted that I couldn't be who I wanted, but what could I do?  Remain in a life I had no empathy for, pretending to be someone else?  The only option I saw was to make who I was, someone I could live with, whatever the cost.

I dealt with my fear by ignoring its existence and avoiding its origin, but my self-imposed denial was driving me to the edge with complete disregard for my own health, both mental and physical.  I wanted to forget who I was.  I just wanted to have fun and set off to do that.  I allowed drugs and alcohol to cloud my thinking and judgement.  In my state of mind nothing was too dangerous or taboo.

I was a selfish man.  I destroyed my family with the single-minded commitment I had to myself.  I didn't think of my children and how they must have felt to see me abandon them.  Their father who had always been in their lives.  My only motivation was my own selfish pursuits.  I wasn't concerned about how many people I hurt along the way.  The life I lead after walking out on my family was a mix of hedonism, heavy drug use, and a sex life that had few boundaries.

The truth is.....I was running.  I didn't have a plan.  I ran from place to place hoping in some way that everything would turn our for the best.  I was hoping because I didn't know what to do.

Filling a Void 10/9/09

I needed my wife to allow me to be weak.  To let my barriers down and show that weak, pathetic side of me, that part of me that needed to be let out.  Most people have someone they can do this with.  I didn't feel I did.  My wife and I had arguments; she would talk, I'd listen until the noise started repeating itself, and then I'd walk away.  I was emotionally detached.  I was indifferent.  I never thought about the problem that had caused the argument.  I didn't care.  This indifference somehow turned what was a simple problem into something of monstrous proportions.

On the other hand, I wanted sex at least once a week or I was plagued with thoughts that she didn't love me, and many other stupid, groundless, ideas.  It doesn't make sense but there it is.  My wife came to resent that being physical was the only way I'd show any emotion, and for me to have someone who said she loved me, limit how I expressed myself......It was like a small death.  Each and every time it killed me.  I began to feel insignificant and with the feeling of insignificance came the accompanying feeling of impotence.  There was a part of me that thought I wasn't worth loving.

I seemed to become two different people.  When faced with the everyday problems and challenges of children and my job, I'd devote all my concentration and energy.  But when nothing I deemed important was happening; I started to amuse myself with drinking, drugs, women, and deception.  I'd make excuses to do exactly what I wanted.  I was finding thrills that I organized both my daily life and sex life around.  I loved my wife but wanted to have sex with other women.  It made sense if I didn't think about it.

I wasn't screwing around for the sex.  I indulged in the sex offered by random women and each time a void was filled within me.  I was looking for that feeling you get when someone is holding you in their arms and nothing can harm you.  I tried filling that void with women who were funny and passionate, filled with questions about every subject that entered a conversation, and possessed a generosity that made me feel good to be around them.  And suddenly I'd have an overwhelming need for physical contact just to feel humanity and emotion rather than the cold.  I tried with women who had nothing to offer but their warm body.  I tried with many types of women.

I needed to find someone real enough where the sex was good enough, and then I'd be complete.  I'd finally be whole.  I believe it was detachment that made all this possible.  A sublime loneliness with which I moved through each day.  I was wandering through life without any real sense of who I was or where I belonged.  I was similar to a serial killer.  I believed that the next woman would be perfect, that the next experience would complete me, but they never did.

I know what it is to think your in love, to be blinded by beauty and made stupid by the feel, smell, taste, and warmth of a woman.  Maybe I'm just addicted to lust.  Part of this is what any healthy man wonders at least once, but the other part of it was me just looking for something I didn't have.  A possession or something else, I don't know.

I've never considered myself a ladies man.  I've loved their company.  I had come to see woman as friends or enemies, except when I was sleeping with them.  My sexual experiences began at a young age.  I spent my childhood engaged in an orgy of drugs, alcohol, and sex.  Those years have impacted my life in ways I'm just now willing to recognize.  I've also realized that I won't find what I was looking for in the arms of a woman.  I'll find it within myself.

Letter to the Court 10/3/09

On October 16, 2006 I ran my vehicle into another at 96 miles per hour.  The car I hit went into the ditch, hit a stone wall, and rolled over coming to rest against a tree.  This should of been a wake up call.  It wasn't.  For the next several months I lived like a man who wanted to die but didn't have the courage to do it myself.  On May 5, 2007 I ran my fathers car into a tree ending my reign of madness.

As much as I disliked reading the prosecutions description of me; I am unable to disagree with it.  I saw what I wanted to see and tried to make true what I wanted to be true.  The frightening thing was that I so often succeeded.  I was good at lying to myself.  I actually believed my own lies.  Worse still, I didn't care about anyone who was hurt by my actions.  I was completely shut off from everything.  Pain, compassion, pity, remorse - nothing got through to me.

Change comes from within.  It is motivated, inspired or invoked in others, but never enforced.  I could of remained defiant, even resentful, and continued to think that I knew everything.  Or I could learn and change my ways.  My decision was easy.  Much has changed for me.  I've learned a lot about myself.  I've learned to value other people.  I've learned to communicate.....properly.  I've learned how to express myself and embrace my feelings.  I no longer feel compelled to stuff my feelings.  The prosecution gave an accurate description of who I was two and a half years ago.  I am no longer that person.

I am asking for an opportunity to address the court and speak about the changes that have taken place.  I would like to speak about my victims and the pain I've caused them.  I am not a bad person, I made very bad choices. 

Please allow me this opportunity.

Observations and Insight 9/24/09

I've done things were there was no rage, no temporary blindness, no limbs moving by themselves, not the slightest trace of a headache.  There was no anger at all.  You couldn't guess at the things I've done.  Awful, evil, obscene; The telling alone would disgust most, and make others sick.  Things I felt calm, sober, and sure of myself doing.  Things I enjoyed at the time.  They nag at me from time to time, but I tell myself that I had good reasons.  I push it all into the dark corner of my mind.  It's incredible the room that's back there.  Amazing what I can live with.  I often wonder if I'm heartless or simply know how to control my emotions.

I have a dry sense of humor.  I'm a man with a strong personality; one with a definite idea of how I want things done.  Some people are intimidated by my confidence, even forward, personality.  As a result people think very little of me, at first, and I suppose I can hardly blame them.  I don't think very much of myself, believe me.  When was it that I became this?  By small degrees I suppose.  One act presses upon another, on a path I had no choice but to follow, and each time there were reasons.  I did what I had to.  Then one day I woke up to find:  A man of violence and restraint, calculation and compassion.  One hell of a combination.

Suffering is what gives us our strength.  We learn more from our failures than successes.  It's the way we face failures that defines us.  There's nothing I despise more than self-pity in a person!  I had lost everything, but still had plenty of choices.  I could of remained defiant, even resentful, and continued to think that I knew everything.  Or I could learn and change my ways, and start to build a new life.  My decision was easy.  I had resisted in arrogant defiance for too long.  To end uup here, inprisoned.  All my twisting, my lying, my bargains, my pain, and for what?  For this?

I feel what I feel.  I would like to feel as other people do.  I would like to weep, but the tears will not come.  I feel less than nothing most of the time.  I am trying.  I am trying very hard.....to be a better man.  At the start of building a new life, I decided the only sensible thing was to live for small rewards:  A job well done, the sound of my children laughing, and the company of loved ones.  Makes it easier to deal with the harsher sides of life.

Kindness 10/14/09

By now everyone should have a pretty good idea of how my mind operates.  It's hard for me to recognize kindness.  Whether I'm giving or receiving.  I think of the motive.  My definition of kindness is something one does to achieve self-satisfaction.

Most acts of kindness are triggered by feelings of guilt, remorse, grief, and love.  The 'Save the Children' TV ads are one example.  The ask, no they beg for money while showing horrific pictures of children starving, diseased, and dying.  These TV ads are designed to stir feelings of guilt, sympathy, and pity.  Feelings of guilt because of what you have.  You can't help feeling sympathetic after seeing the suffering children.  Finally, you take pity on them and give money.  This isn't kindness.  You were manipulated!

Christmas is supposed to be a celebration.  A day of joy, peace, and kindness.  How many people go into debt each year buying gifts?  Christmas has turned into the day we feel obligated to give something to our children, family, and friends.  Why?  Because it is expected!  Imagine the anger and disappointment your family would feel if they received nothing at all.  The days of old are gone.  Today, Christmas is all about the gifts and how many we received.

Kindness should be an act most often done because of who we are and not the circumstances.

Young Men 10/14/09

I'm surrounded by young men just coming into their prime.  Men who look to be developing into fine products of our prison system.  These men are excellent examples of the common criminal.  Contemptuous, undisciplined, young men governed by their lusts, emotions, and not in the least bit interested in the damage and suffering they've caused.  They are without mercy, compassion, or empathy for those they hurt.  The suffering of their victims means nothing to them.  Young men that are completely self-absorbed and devoted to their own wants.  They do not care about what they have to do to satisfy their desires.

Young men unaccustomed to consequences; they are the youth whose muscles developed before any type of intellect.  They are only vaguely familiar with what it means to be civilized.  Worse, the concept holds no interest for them since it offers no immediate gratification.  The desire to destroy the good in life is what defines these men.  Their twisted beliefs are merely an internal justification for their overriding hatred of anything good.  That core drives gives them an affinity with others having the same goal:  Crushing anyone who lives free, who seek to better themselves, and destroying anything positive.

Ultimately, it is life they hate.  They feel inadequate facing the challenges of life and loath the necessity of dealing with the world the way it really is.  Instead of working hard they grasp at shortcuts and try to destroy those who do.  Instead of creating something they have to steal what someone else has created.

It's not respect for others that prevents me from pushing my beliefs onto the men around me.  It is the respect I have for myself.  I know that I cannot convince those around me to believe as I do.  Heck, they can't even take responsibility for the trouble they brought upon themselves.  They blame others!  It is this refusal of rational thinking that gives them the ability to maintain the illusion of knowledge, wisdom, even sanctity while committing wrong.

Every man here has the choice to change and make something of their life.  I'll leave them to suffer the consequences of those choices.

Soliders 08'

Wars of the past and the war today irritate me.  War has become the preoccupation for governments who perpetuate it, politicians who struggle to end it, and the soliders who go to battle - fighting for their own survival - as our sacrifice for the common good.  And in the end, wars are settled at a conference table.  Why doesn't the notion of having the conference first occure to people?

Soliders have settled into a cycle of battle without conquest, sacrifice without purpose, and loss without victory.  The position of the dead on the battlefield determine which government has control at the conference table.  These are the rules.  They've been the rules for centuries.

Soliders are seen as tools, to be trained, used and then discarded.  They are trained to kill without emotion.  Why?  Because emotion only clouds their judgement.  Soliders are used to control any situation presented, by any means necessary.  And when the war ends, we expect our returning soliders - the sons and daughters of this nation - to be the same people who left.  Most soliders will pretend to be, but their not.  They're emotionally damaged and the consequences of those surpressed emotions coming to the surface haven't been taken into consideration.  These soliders that are being set loose into our communities are ticking time bombs.

If life teaches us anything; it is that our choices follow us through the years, for good and bad.  It is the unexpected consequenses of those choices that can be most dangerous.

Thoughts about Ignorance 09'

As a little boy, knowing the rules of my house, I was willing to break those rules.  I chose to ignore the consequences of my actions.  And when caught, I'd cry "I didn't know".  Pretending ignorance was the only form of innocence I understood.  I'd like to say I grew out of this, but my children act as I did.  It goes without saying.......I taught them everything I know.

I am ignorant to current political issues and choose to remain this way.  I do not watch the news or read the paper.  I'd feel compelled to change the system armed with that knowledge, just to end up feeling frustrated and helpless after I realized I couldn't.  I find it easier to ignore the issues, as many of us do.  For proof, ask yourself why we have elected officials.  Don't know or think you do?  We have elected officials so the average citizen can remain ignorant, remain innocent.  The American people feel safe ignoring whats right in front of their face, knowing they gave someone else the power to make their choices for them.  Unfortunately those elected officials are only looking out for themselves instead of the people who put them in their position of power.

There is a difference between ignorance and indifference.  Ignorant people choose to ignore the truth of their actions or lack of and then proceed with a clear conscience.  Indifferent people know the truth and couldn't care less.  How much harm have we, as a society, done unintentionally?  We're not gods, but have the power, and yet, lack the wisdom.

Gary

Gary is a man of many layers.  At first glance I saw a man filled with dignified reserve.  He used diplomacy where others tried to overwhelm; dealt with men by suggesting, introducing, and recommending.  Gary has never lost sight of his past.  He exercises good judgement, sound reasoning, and accepts others beliefs with humility and respect.

The second is a man of determination.  Most men in this setting do not want to change, even when its in their best interest.  I saw this everyday.  After 28 years Gary continues to help other men, not because they thank him, or even welcome it in some cases, but because its the right thing to do.  He sees the goodness in people and will not give up on them.

Anyone who meets Gary will see his intelligence, competence and confidence, but only after I got to know him did I see a third layer.  A kind man.  A man who loves his family and values his friends.  He posses a quality of integrity, I think that describes it best.  He understands and is comfortable with himself.  He is sincere which gives his words additional weight.  I never thought I'd meet a man like Gary - someone I can trust and regard with respect.

Gary and I spent hours upon hours talking about life, family and friends.  He talked about the differences between merely surviving and living.  He shared his knowledge - spiritual and of sound mind.  And in doing so, showed me that the importance of life comes down to just a few simple things: Friendship, Love, Trust, and a belief in something better.  Gary as done much more than survive; he's proven that people can change, and that they can forgive too.  He is an amazing man.  A man I care for and am honored to call my friend.

Gary

Neutral Ground 10-03-10

I respect the inherent worth and dignity of every person.  It is one of the principles I live by.  You may be wondering what "inherent worth and dignity" really mean?  Well, "inherent" means "inside".  If something is "inherent", it just comes that way, as part of the package.  You can't take it away, you can't add to it, it's just there.  Purring is inherent to cats, color is inherent to flowers, worth and dignity are inherent to people.
OK, so what, exactly, is "worth and dignity"?  Most of us are used to talking about what things are worth.  Usually what something is worth is how much money we'll have to spend to buy it.  A candy bar is worth about a dollar.  Same for a soda.  But, of course, I'm not talking about how much it would cost to buy a person.  Actually, the whole point of "inherent worth and dignity" is that people aren't just things, stuff that you can buy or sell.  People matter.  Why do people matter?  They just do.  It is inherent.

All people are born with "inherent worth and dignity"; all people have equal claim to life, liberty and justice; all people, no matter what they've done, deserve to be treated with dignity.  A persons worth never goes away, no matter how matter how they're acting.  Our own worth never goes away, no matter what we've done.  Believing that all people matter, that they should be treated with respect (dignity) is part of who I am as a man today.

Of course, acting on the belief that everybody matters and should be treated with respect isn't always easy.  Actually, it's far too easy to fall into the trap of believing that who a person is and what they've done are the same thing.  I've observed this way of thinking my whole life, but never so much until coming to prison.  People with more acceptable crimes usually start to imagine that they're somehow better than they actually are, and those on the other end of the spectrum start to fear that they're somehow worse than they actually are, when in fact, we're all just people.

We should do everything in our power to insure that others are treated as we wish to be treated, respected as we need to be respected and heard as we need to be heard.  We're all in here together: Fathers, Brothers, and Sons.  It would be wonderful if we could learn to live together embracing the spirit of mutual support, understanding and respect.

Respect 10-13-09

The world around me if full of criminals.  The world if full of people of good character.  Both of these statements are true because within most people lies the beginning points of both paths.  Some people are too timid to ever be a criminal and others too kind.  On the other hand, some people are too hard tempered to let their good qualities show.  I believe the emotional make-up of most people lies somewhere in the middle.  A shade of grey that can darken or lighten with simple interaction.

Initial impressions are difficult to overcome and sometimes become permanent, but beyond apperance and other things we cannot control, I have learned that there are limited decisions I can make concerning which reaction I will edge someone toward.  The key to it all, I believe, is respect.  When I walked into prison I found myself surrounded by criminals.  Men who used their fists or weapons of choice on a daily basis.  Yet, I rarely ever got into so much as a verbal disagreement.  Why is this?  Why did I not find myself immersed in disputes as regularly as so many others?  What kept me safe is my ability to show respect for anyone I met.  I treated people the way I wanted to be treated.  I gave respect at the outset of a meeting because giving that respect cost me nothing.

This is different than the way most people veiw the world.  Most people insist that respect has to be earned and as I've come to learn; earning respect isn't an easy task.  I understand this point of veiw and held a similar one not so long ago.  What I've come to realize is that demanding a person to earn your respect is, in of itself, an act of arrogance, a way of self-elevation that implies your respect is worth earning.

Respect is one of our most basic needs, particularly among criminals, but not limited to.  An insult is just that because its an assult upon our self esteem, and that most dangerous of qualities: Pride.  When I meet people they do not have to earn my respect.  I give it willingly.  Certainly, some people will see this as weakness, will misconstrue my intentions as sublimation rather than acceptance of equal worth.  But if they choose to see it as a weakness and take advantage of their percieved advantage,         Well.............

Haiti Jail Break 95'

There wasn't a cloud in the sky.  The sun beat down upon us as the temperature continued to rise.  The couple of patrols we'd already done had us soaked with sweat.  I was looking forward to the ride back.  On the way we received a call from headquarters telling us to respond to an prison break in progress.  The information given to us explained that a truck had driven through one of the walls and a riot had broken out as a result.  Our job was to help with the containment and assist local police.

I took a knee nervously beside a truck near the breach, my eyes and ears alert.  I hadn't expected this sort of thing.  My nerves seemed to wind tighter and tighter as I waited, listening and watching for someone to appear in front of me.  What would I do if some pissed off man came toward me?  Should I try speaking or just remain silent?  I formulated half a dozen different strategies, but when a man did come running out towards me; I did something that I had not even considered.  I fired twice into his chest.

I road back to base feeling strangely numb, as if I had been enclosed in some kind of protective blanket.  I found that I could no longer even remember the details of the encounter, but only breif, vivid flashes of a man falling to the ground with a look of surprise and confusion on his face, of blood pooling beneath his body.

Breathing

Is there book that lists good habits and bad habits?  And if there is such a book; who determined what was written and which is which?

We stick ourselves into the same routines, going through each day's ritual with religious precision.  We are ceatures of habit.  Part of this is the comfort afforded by familiarity, but there is another aspect to it.  It is our deep-routed belief that as long as we keep everything the same, everything will remain the same.  Such routines are our way to control the world around us, but in truth, we cannot.  Even if we follow the exact routine day after day, death will find us.

Breathing is one such routine.  It is a habit all of us share.  With every breath we draw, we are closer to the end of our lives.  We are born with a certain number of breaths and each on we take brings us closer to our last.  Breathing is the cruelest habit, the most painful addiction we have.  How much sad suffering would we save ourselves if we just stopped?  There would be no heartache, no guilt, no jealousy, and certainly no pain.  Breathing is a slow agonizing death.  It is the slowest form of suicide.  It's a habit we cannot change.  It is an addiction we cannot quit.

Some will argue that breathing isnt a habit or an addiction because it is necessary to live.  I'm sure the heroin user feels the same way.

24 Hours to Live 10-13-08

We are made up a few million cells, alright more than that.  We are flesh, blood, and bone.  We are mammals, we are human; but most importantly, we are animals.  Animals so complex and unsatisfied with this existence, we've created another.  Entry into this other existence is achieved by following the rules and believing in it.  Belief in an existence that cannot be proven to exist is called faith.  Unfortunately, faith also allows people to reject whats right in front of them.

What is it within us that so desperately wants to deny the truth?  Fear, I presume, based on the many uncertainties of life and the greatest uncertainty of death.  We will all one day be gone from this place, this life, this consciousness and existence.  Only when we completely and honestly accept the inevitability of death can we put those fears a side and live free of them.  If we just step back and watch the truth of the world, we'd find our answers all around us, unexplainable by numbers and formulas.  I do not have faith in the promises or sermons of man.  It is certain knowledge that sustains me and guides me with a profound sense of calm.

I am dying with every breath I take and I'm not afraid.  My approaching death is important to keep in mind - not to complain or worry - but simply because only with the certain knowledge that I will die, can I truly begin to live.  I am not afraid to die.  I appreciate this fact, it is the simple truth.  I do not dwell on my own mortality, but understand and appreciate that this is the only existence I will have.  Throwing away precious hours thinking of the inevitable is foolish, and yet, I've been asked to do just that.

I've been asked to write about my last 24 hours of life.  Specifically, how I would spend those hours.  I wish I could write a fairy tale for you.  I can't.  I've asked myself that when my day does come, will I even know its my last?  I don't believe so.  We make choices about how we will live; I don't believe we have so much say about how we will die.  Controlling the truth of death, whatever our desperation is not a possibility.  We can only make certain that the life we have is as rich as it can be.  It doesn't matter what we do on our last day; It's every day up to our last that matters, and when death does come for me, I'll be ready.

Indifference (revised 6/09)

My mother said that when I was a child I always showed my emotions and expressed my feelings for the people around me.  I can only assume I never got what I desperately needed and decided to stop.  I do know that eventually I placed all my feelings and emotions into a box and locked it.  I had learned time and time again that I couldn't trust another person with my feelings.  Never again, Never!  To trust was to be betrayed.  Trust was pain.  I became a person of indifference and watched the world pass me by.  I was an observer, detached from everything.  I became so hollow, so empty of all natural feeling that I could assume any posture as it occurred to me; I used emotion as one might wear a shirt, changing it when it suited me.  Still, I believed what I felt - Anger, betrayal, sincerity, even love of a perverse sort - until I abandoned it in favor of another, more practical weapon.  I could make the offer of friendship, and make it seem genuine, because I believed it - if only for as long as it took me to say it.

My indifference, what I now call grey, had a downside.  I'm not able to recall any substantial feelings or emotions.  I can't recall memories of time spent with friends or family.  My time spent with them didn't mean anything to me.  I didn't appreciate it.  I moved through life not paying attention to names, places, or events.  I didn't care.  I got up in the morning and went to sleep at night.

My wife once asked me why I never got jealous.  We could go out and men would buy her drinks and hit on her.  I didn't care.  My wife had never given me a reason to doubt her.  I enjoyed taking her out.  I'd like to say that there wasn't any jealousy in me because I knew the attention she would get from other men, meant nothing to her, so it meant nothing to me.  The truth is, I new if she left me for another, I'd just find someone else.  I was indifferent. 

A Changed Person

Writing down my story - disclosure - was an important step in my growth process.  If I ever start to feel to "full of myself" I will be able to pull out that story and read it to remind myself of where I have been and where I could go back to, if I indulge in - what I like to call - my "defects of character".  Its a sobering thought.

In my story I recount many escapades that occured under the influence.  But I also began to explore the character defects that are apart of me.  For example I talked about my disregard for others (especially women).  I describe myself as a selfish person who was willing to hurt those who meant a lot to me.  And I talked about power and how much I wanted power to control others.  These are all honest reflections that I continue writing about.  Not only about the experiences, but also about how those experiences shaped the person I am today.

I spent many years using drugs, alcohol, and sex to blunt my involvement with life.  I now realize that personal, spiritual, and moral growth is stunted by alcohol, drugs, and other addictions.  So all the years I spent in the grip of addiction kept me from developing my character.  So now I have to remember - I am just beginning to enter a life of change and growth.  I cant be to hard on myself if it doesnt happen overnight.  I will need time and the help of my friends and family to grow into the man I want to be.  And if I am not sure who that man is, I just ask myself:  What would a man who loves and respects himself do in this situation?  Then act like that man even if I'm not sure he is me.  Make sense?

I have taken big steps in admitting to myself, to my good friends, and to you that I have moral flaws.  Heck, we all  have flaws, but we cant all honestly own up to them.  I have made a moral inventory and shared it.  I can never go back to the life I had before.  I am a changed person.