Monday April 20th, 2009

 So yeah, I'm afraid to write in the journal, there's only room for one more entry. I don't want to make that entry until I have bought a new journal. so notebook paper will have to do for now. Really its about releasing pressure from my brain, so it definitely takes care of the important part. -I'm gettin real close to burnin myself badly. I'm plating with fire. let me explain. I drug tested last week on friday, which was a mission, had to walk a total of five miles that day, but I feel good about the test, because I used the water trick, so it should come back clean, but  I failed it the last time for oxycodone (vicodin) n who knows what else, but I think they're just runnin it for opiates. Well since friday ive done vicodin and smoked weed for the past three days. not good this means that I will have to use the water trick the next two times I test, at least. I dont wanna fake it anymore. I wanna pass a drug test the rite way because Im clean instead of just sneaking through. I need to hold myself up instead of back. 

The real date should be listed as when this is posted. December 18th 2020.

I have been contemplating publishing a lot of my writing for quite some time now. And I'm just kinda lost as to where I should start. Ive most definitely been running for a while now. from everything to be honest. And its really really time for me to get it together. So Im getting close to it. I am going to put all of my writing, photos and artwork in chronological order. I want to do the affiliate marketing thing and make money online, of course, and Im maybe trying to coordinate things so that I can profit off of my own story. Is that wrong? lol. idk. So I can get all of my work, my writing, and my photos in order of time, then start consolidating my journals and work into months. then have a folder for each month.

In addition to stirring up all of that stuff from the past, I have wanted to tell my story as it is right now as well. And I have wanted to do a ninety day transformation as well. 2021 is going to be a big year for a lot of people, I'm just trying to ride the waves. But going from someone who has basically No online presence, no marketing experience, and only a high school education, the odds are stacked against me. not to mention all of the other oppression coming from different directions. that s exhausting in itself. So I've got all of these "excellent ideas" but have not put very many into practice. 

have we met? (III) hopefully the last one ill write on the subject

Well. To wrap up the last story/post, which I dont know how far I got bc I didnt read the previous post. Im going to make it brief bc there are other things that I would like to post about.  
I wrote him several letters attempting to maintain a line of communication between us once I was incarcerated. I did hear from him via letters 3 times, in about 2 months. Meanwhile I probably called him everyday, unsuccessfully. i think  I talked to him twice on the phone   And then I got so loopy and desperate that I called his mom, she told me he went to Lexington's HopeCenter to detox. I had tried to call his number repeatedly for a week or so and got no answer so I said fuck it and called Lisa to see if he was alive. That was always a thought. He was dead. He overdosed. He killed himself.

 None of that was true, just him getting strung out more than ever. 

In the letters he would tell me how much he missed me. He said, " I miss us laying in bed together" 
Well long story short, I went to jail as a result of boosting clothes from department stores and returning them to platos closet or once upon a child for cash. Small amounts of cash. Very small, petty, hardly enough to buy dope and cigarettes and put gas in his bitchass car, money. I go to jail and make bond on a recieving stolen property charge, then Campbell picks me up for a probation violation warrant. While I'm in Campbell I get cited for a robbery. Then I get released on parole after campbell gives me the 5 years I had on the shelf. But I dont actually get "released" I just went to Kenton County this time and get indicted on a robbery 2nd degree and a persistent felony offender. Im facing 20 years. I was afraid, just like another time in my life. I am full of fear, and unfortunately my family have fallen on hard times. I cannot rely on my parents, my sister, or my friends for support third time around. I stayed incarcerated for 25 months that time. From November of 2012 to December of 2014. Its hard to believe its been almost three years already. And you'd think that was enough. Most people would learn at the point where they were locked up for twenty five months. well im not most people. lol. sometimes thats a good thing, but in this instance, it was a bad thing. A very very bad thing.
I had to go back and get some more. I went back for another year, and then a another 10 days most recently. I can honestly say I'm finished. 
I can say that I have matured into an adult. I've learned a lot about the system, the world, society, people, community, and most importantly, I've been able to get to know myself a lot better. But I'm still learning more about all these things, even myself each day that passes and each day that I'm clean. 
So I saw him the other day at the library and he cowered when he made eye contact with me, immediately looked down. 30 seconds later, he pulled his hood up and dipped out.
Not a single word, and I've seen him half a dozen times in the past 5-6 months. I loved him, more than he loved me, i know that, but he did love me. he came out to his mother. told his mom he was gay. he had never been in a relationship with a man.
They say its better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. That shit hurt, and maybe thats why Ihave stayed away from it, because I've been such a fearful creature. 

                                                                                                      

have we met? (part deux)

Part deux.
So just to finish the story I hadd started on the last post, This guy I'm seeing and myself had reached a point in the relationship where things were very strained. I had been kicked out of his house by his mom, who loved me, but didnt want me around her tenants because she had to replace the things that her son and I stole, so she was actually losing money. 
I swore that I would pay her back, I said to him that I would make things right. Really I loved him. I loved him a lot, way more than he ever loved me, I believe. I wanted him to be okay. I wanted his mom to still take care of him and allow him to stay in her home. Not to mention the vehicle she had given him and put gas in every week so we could make trips every day to cincinnati and back to covington. 
I'm homeless. I'm on the run because I obsconded from the residential facility after they asked me to pee into a cup for them. One of the other mentors went to staff on me because I came home tore up one night. I was so upset about them not coming to me face-to-face. Li

ke out of genuine care and concern, which is what they taught us about accountability. It wasn't snitching if it was out of genuine care and concern. Well when you get blindsided its hard to not feel like someone has informed on you behind your back. 
I'm living on the street. I slept in public restrooms on the floor for an hour at a time after walking for hours and hours every day. I was so paranoid I couldnt stay in one spot for very long. 
One day I attempted to rob a gas station. that's actually another story in itself, but its relevant to the disintegration of our relationship. He drove, and stayed in the car while I masked up and went inside to demand cash from the cashier. When I run back out side and tell him to get the hell out of there the employee chases me around the building to where he is parked and catches part of the lisence plate. 
He knew right at that moment what that meant. He even said, "that guy just got my plates." But i just wanted to get the hell away from there and forget about that terrible and terrifying experience. I went out to the suburbs and he stayed in the city, went right back to his house and basically met the police there. He was interrogated for three hours. 3 hours. 
thats a lot of talking . a lot of questions. a lot of answers.
I talked to him later after failed attempts at calling and texting. No response whatsoever. then he finally answers. He politely tells me he gave me an out for when I talk to the cops. 
Huh? i didnt plan on talking to them. you said you were going to, but that wasn't on my list of things to do. 
He said they were gonna want to talk to me because he had told them that I borrowed his car, I came back to give it to him an hour later with a stranger he hadnt met, and I told him that he should be careful because the car was hot. we had just robbed the bp. 
I was stunned. shocked. speechless.
"Why?" was all i could get out. He proceeded to tell me that he had done me a favor and tried to convince me so. He actually believed that farce himself. See thats what happens when you are a ahbitual and compulsaive lier. you believe your own lies. furthermore, you think you are outsmarting everyone around you. you think that you're clever, that no one is onto u. but really you are in denial, and delusional. 
The craziest part of this segment is that I still loved him. I still called him and had him pick me up to o see the dope man everyday after this happened. I still split my shit with him and argued and fought about who got more. Still, after he turned me into the cops, I loved him.

Tuesday February 7th 2017

It is Tuesday, February 7th, 2017.

I enjoy writing obviously, and It has become a helpful and therapeutic hobby. From the black spiral notebook when I was sixteen, to the composition notebook when I lived in Florida, to the multiple hardcover journals, to the quote on quote "digital age" lol. Now I am able to blog and publish with the world, or not, I could just archive these blogs. And I still write manually, or by hand in my journal. I like to keep a composition notebook in case of some type of technology melt down. 
Tomorrow I have to speak in front of a fairly large group of people, sharing with them my life story(partially) and how the Life Learning Center has affected my life. 
I still get nervous when I'm in front of a lot of people.  I have spoke in front of the entire community of grown men, convicts to be exact, when I was going through CTS in Louisville. And the stuff we shared in front of those guys was usually very personal.
I also took a speech class my first semester at NKU. I tell this story sometimes still. My first speech in that class was disasterous. I have anxiety and its the worst when I'm in social situations. I gave my speech, I had actually memorized an impressive portion of it, then cut it short and went back to my seat. At that point I started getting very teary-eyed and was having a hard time breathing. within 2 minutes I was in a full-blown panic attack, gasping for air, bawling my eyes out, blubberring and struggling to speak. "I-I-I-I j-jusss neeee-need sum air" so I went outside and recovered..... 
To Be Continued.....

have we met?

Its almost impossible to think that someone could for real be like this. My ex. Pfft.
I keep seeing him around town and I'm tired of seeing him. Period.
So here's the guy who met in rehab, It was his fifth time in rehab and my third. It hadnt worked before, and it didnt work that time either. Maybe it could have, but we decided to start having illicit relations while we were both clients in a residential facility.
It was known but kept a secret. I suppose out friends talked about it privately, but didnt want to out us. Didnt want us to get in trouble or get terminated from the program. At one point something was said to staff about suspicious behaviour between him and I within the building. When we were confronted about it the program director pulled us out of the community and into his office, and told us there had been SEVERAL reports from clients and one from staff that there had been "incidents".
Once our door was locked and we were both in the room.
Somone heard the bed creaking in my room.
And i was in bed in my underwear while he was sitting on the side of my bed. 
All of these things did happen. but we denied them, of course. 
I'm writing this now because I just spotted him in the library, I walked past and towered over him while he was stooped over in his chair stairing at the computer screen. The library just opened 45 minutes ago. He must be avoiding his wife. Oh yeah, now he's married. LOLOLOL!!! 
Back to the story, We made it through the program and he went to the second phase of treatment, which was to move out of the house and participate in an aftercare treatment plan, which is basically group therapy once a week, once a month sessions with a counselor and random drug tests. And money, of course, they always want your money. 
I however, decided to, being the good public servant that I am, stay at the facility and become a mentor to young men still coming through the program. It was a three month commitment, and was basically 40 hours a week of volunteer work. You still lived in the house. And you recieved 42 dollars a month as a stipend. We would always joke because it was merely enough to buy a carton of cheap cigarettes every week. which you would need while working in the mentors office.
 So we continued to see one another, I would just take weekend passes and crash at his house and we would lay around, shoot dope, have sex, and then Sunday night I would go back to work at the facility till the following friday. 
As we continued this escapade, I started feeling jealousy about his freedom, he didn't have to sleep in the rehab every night, he got to go home and sleep in a real bed, he didnt have to sign in and out and give itineraries for everythign he did each day. I wanted the freedom and the real-life responsibility of a job. I started regretting the choice I made to stay at the rehab facility. We continue to do heroin, and that made things much much worse. The jealousy, the lying and deciet. the manipulation. the arguing. I wish I could say it was all his fault but i was no saint myself. I did go through his phone and found messages he either hadnt cleaned up or intentionally left for me to find, which mind you, is entirely possible because he told me early on in our dating relationship that he liked to "start shit" He liked to "create drama" and all that bullshit, game playing, really juvenile game-playing. SO the messages revealed him talking to other men and women about dating and spending time together while I was wither working or locked down at night.
I actually never confronted him about that. I was too scared and at that point it didnt even matter because a lot of things had happened and I knew that a) i was going back to jail b)we werent going to stay together and c)I really didnt care enough about the relationship to attempt any repairs.
We had stolen his roomates 52inch flatscreen and gotten a gram of dope for it. after that roomate left, he got a new one. And twice we army crawled into his bedroom while he was sleeping or showering and stole 100 dollar bills from his wallet. He did it, then I did it. The house belonged to his mother, so he was supposed to "pay rent" but obviously he never did. so she had to house someone else there to help her with the cost of the house. she didnt live there. she had remarried and moved to ohio with her new husband, while her baby boy was doing so well and staying clean and taking care of himself, being responsible. LOL. right.
So when we got found out I took the heat for everything. I said that I was going to jail anyway, and I didnt care. I said " you have a lot more to lose than me" And after that I was living on the street. His mother didnt want me to live there if I was going to be stealing from her tenants. 
She was actually sweet. but her son was such a piece of stinkin shit and a cold-bitch, that you couldnt help but resent her for not getting an abortion. 
To Be Continued.....

My time

This is me at work. 

Pondering out the back door towards Cincinnati. 

Wondering what else life might have in store for me.

I have always been a loner. I don't make friends easily. I'm anti-social. I'm shy. I'm a math nerd. 

I've been living in fear most of my life. Fear of people judging me. Fear of opening up to people. Fear of someone getting to know me, accepting me for who I really am. Fear of failure. 

When I was a child I would cry for hours at night because I thought I was going to die in my sleep. 

I was so terrified and I remember my mother telling me I was going to be okay. She told me that I was healthy, and that it was okay to go to sleep. I would be so afraid of what would happen if I died in my sleep. I would ask what would happen to me if i died?

 I guess I had little faith as a kid. People talked about going to heaven after death. They said you'll be forgiven of your mortal sins and you'll be accepted into heaven to live eternally with God. 

I imagined Heaven was like a luxury vacation hotel. The sun was always shining. There weren't any starving children, homeless people. There was no hunger. There was no sadness. There was only love and happiness. There was a giant warm pool where no one ever drowned, and there was never a lot of people, There was always plenty of room at the pool in heaven.

So I grew up afraid. I grew up with no faith, even though I went to church every Sunday until I was about 8. Thats when the parents split up. But thats another story...

So fear has controlled my life for many years. It has probably hindered my spiritual growth. Fear has probably cut short some opportunities for me in life. But fear has also protected me. We are afraid of getting hit by someone driving a car so we look both ways before we cross the street. 

Well I was afraid of being rejected by people so I always tried to piggy back on my sisters friendships. I tried to make her friends my friends. And if she didnt want to I would try to make her feel sorry for me by looking all pitiful and alone and sad. I would try to manipulate her into allowing me to hang out with her and her older friends. But its because I was scared. 

I didn't want to look stupid. I didn't want to hear the word no, so I just didnt ask. 

My mom would say, "okay, you can go, but can Jesse go with you" 

Even my parents knew I was a loner. When I was a child I needed a lot of help socially.

I've been portrayed as some kind of social butterfly at times, but really its just a facade. I can try to look popular and talkative and personable, but really I'm a terrified little boy who's scared of the dark. 

So instead of learning social skills like a normal person, I was trying to sneak my way into a group. I would try to decieve a social circle until they accepted me. The one thing I've had going for me is patience. I know how to wait, boy! I can wait like a motherfucker. lol

I've learned that waiting can sometimes get you what you want. Time is needed for acceptence. Time is needed for respect, and trust.

Sometimes time is needed for truth.

Ans sometimes time is just needed. 

I couldn't grow up and mature into an adult, into a responsible, accountable, capable, concerned, human being until the time was right. That time did not pass until very recently. Unfortunately, for me, the first 28 years of my life consisted of a whole lot of confusion. A lot of anger, resentment. A lot of worry, and mistakes, and poor judgement, and growing pains. and fear. A lot of fear. 

And for a long time I let all this bullshit sort of, define me. It held me back. It shaped me. I think after so long I am ready to stop being angry, to stop being afraid. I am tired of carrying guilt and pain, and self-pity, and rage, and resentment, and fear. 

I feel myself changing. 

Soon I'll catch my stride, and I'll be in the prime of my life. 

My turn. My time.