Through writing this blog I’ve come across other blogs, which have introduced me to different lifestyles, writing styes, sexual orientations and cultures. The person I’m writing about today is a stranger to me – I know him only through his blog where he describes himself as an abused child, a drug addict and a bank robber. He also describes himself as a survivor of that life. He has plans for a better future.
This guy isn’t just a creative writer with a big imagination; his story is real. Nobody could write like he writes without having experienced the awful things he has described. His words have been honest, shocking the reader at each of his awful life experiences. He has been a repulsive, selfish, greedy human being in the past and anyone reading his blog would hope he manages to suceed in his quest to be a good husband and an exceptional role model to his daugher. In fact, I think some of his past actions were so bad he may have deleted the worst from his blog because I can’t find them to re-check the facts.
For this story, I’ll protect his privacy and call him DAS. His social and emotional journey is the focus of my writing today.
The very first words I read on DAS’s blog is that his past haunts him and that, because he can’t rid himself of what he’s done, he is making an effort to come to terms with it. Plunging a needle into his arm used to be his four hour escape from reality and he spent a total of 10 years in a prison cell for his crimes. His blog has photos of him performing a bank robbery and his mug shot. He writes that, when a prisoner is released there is a 78% success rate when he has a loved one give a loving hug and say say he is forgiven. DAS had a daughter and his wife waiting to hug him.
DAS struggles with depression (maybe he always has) and describes this depression as a lazy mental state that has him automatically agreeing to poor choices. He struggles through a haze of mental laziness which he hopes he can wean himself out of and gather enough strength to recognize that impulsive, automatic agreement to poor choices is his constant undoing. His blog features a gorgeous family photo of DAS on his first Father’s Day out of prison; posing with his daughter and partner – his pride is unmistakable as this was the first Father’s Day they weren’t separated by a piece of thick prison glass. His blog also features a security camera photo of DAS holding up a bank (not the photo featured in this story) and a mug shot of him, dated about a week after the robbery. DAS hopes his future self will one day read his blog and see how far he has come. This is an optimistic person with a future.
One of DAS’ earliest memories was of his father calling him names for not being able to throw, catch or hit a ball. He has been an abused child, a homeless teenager (actually I think he was 11 yrs old), a drug addict, theif, bank robber, I think he stabbed a man (or witnessed a stabbing), spent a decade in prison.
Out of prison he writes about himself as a proud man who has no intention of ever returning to the life he left behind. Instead of grabbing a needle he now grabs a pen and writes. He works out. He is now a hands on father, a loving partner, a responsible person, clean of drugs, clear in his thinking, able to reflect on bad times to inform him of better times ahead. He and his partner have started to plan having a baby. Instead of robbing the bank he recently opened a cheque account with money he earned through an honest living – which was a proud moment and evidence he is successful at turning things around. He says he walks through ife with his head held high and I sense the fog of his depression had lifted. He wrote about standing at a bus stop thanking God for giving him another chance. This year has been pretty good for DAS.
DAS writes from somewhere deeper than his heart. His words are dictated from the wouds on his soul. Here’s an example:
“All of my yesterdays were bags brimming with lies and deceit that I hauled around… All of my tomorrows passed with me begging for them not to return. …” (D.A.S.)
I can’t imagine the huge accomplishment of turning yourself around like he has – he described his turnaround as ‘hit the ground running’. But by mid-year he could see his life racing back to a place he has worked so hard to escape from. He said that, with his own hands, he destroyed everything he had built and that the man he saw in the mirror wasn’t the guy he believed he was. This was him and he didn’t like it one bit.
He struggled along and had a radio interview about his life and how he had managed to turn himself around; it was a really interesting, honest and inspiring interview. But shortly afterwards, he blogged that he had an argument with his wife and she asked him to move out of their house. He’s been back on the streets for three weeks, during which time his lazy mental state automatically agreed to bad choices, bringing him back to the drugs. He said he sees only two scenarios to drugs…. prison and death.
His blog called for help, but I can’t see how anyone can help him. He came to a bump in the road and he fell, then he rolled around down there and now he’s dirty. Getting up again will take strength and resolve. I responded with a passionate plea for him to be a man and help himself up out of the slum of his past for the sake of his child! I said he is at a crossroad and he’s taken a wrong turn. Go back! Actually, I carried on a little passionately, as I do. It as devastating to see a good person with purpose and goals wasted like this. Who would be his daughter’s father? What priority does his wife feel she has in his life when he chooses drugs to apologising and fixing the mess he made at home?
Two days ago I checked his blog to see how he was doing and saw that he’d had a do not miss appointment with his probation officer for a urinary analysis. Apparently he had missed 4 of these appointments before because he was getting high. He doesn’t write anything fancy about this and doesn’t create elaborate excuses. He says it how it is and it’s blunt and ugly.
I had a do not miss appointment with my probation officer yesterday. Not my call. Hers. I guess somewhere along the line while getting high or doing whatever it was that I do, I missed 4 UA’s. For those who may not know what that is, well to put it simply, you pee in a cup and they test it for drugs… As of my last writing, things are…I dont know. I suppose better would be a fair description… Last thought: Sue…thank you for the kick in the butt!!
His partner made a comment to this blog:
Reading these post(s) makes me sad… Things are going to get better, we need to have patience and faith and let the past be behind us. … it’s like we live in two different worlds, the life at home and what is on your mind that you express on here. I love you more than words can ever describe and we will get through all of this pain.
DAS may have grown up abused and alone He has struggled through life without adequate role models and parental assistance and he has made poor choices. But the best thing that ever happened to him seems to be his wife. I really hope things work out for them.
Side note: the image used in this story was found on Google and is not DAS.
( http://www.ibabuzz.com/tricitybeat/tag/bank-robbery/ )