Suicidal Ruminations

OK, so this is a rather depressing topic, but certainly one of significance for myself, and perhaps many others. So I want to share some thoughts and observations. Allow me to start with the assurance that I am not currently having any suicidal ideations, but I want to share some of my past thoughts and experiences as well as some distressing realities of this justice system in relation to this topic.

For a full year following the incident, I had frequent thoughts of taking my life. The first serious brush with this notion was while I was released bail. I attempted, rather foolishly, to reach out to Jess in a moment of drunken depressive delirium, hoping to hear some words of encouragement, hope, or acknowledgment that I was a good human, and that I might be missed by her and others. I was essentially told that I should "do what I had to do." I made a rather feeble attempt to slice my wrists, but couldn't quite go deep enough. Jess later informed me that this call resulted in the first time that she was actually angry at me.

Later, in prison, I worked myself up to the same decision, and I wrote a letter to my sister. I again was unable to work up the courage. I sent the letter to my sister, telling her to disregard it, but I wanted her to know what I was feeling. She was understandably concerned and called someone in the prison system. They explained how I could be put in solitary confinement, stripped of my clothes, and locked down for months if that's what she "wanted." Fortunately, she didn't. That was their only way to deal with potential suicides.

The third time was prompted by my ex-wife cutting off communications with my kids. I wrote letters to her and Jess, essentially blaming them for what I was about to do. I mailed them, and took a month supply of antidepressants and a full bottle of allergy pills. I woke up the next morning, still alive, but rather discombobulated. I at least had the wherewithal to get the letters back from the mailbox. I have thought about what might have been had I succeeded. First and foremost, I think about my kids, well... my first two kids. They are the only ones who would have been really affected in any long-term way. For this reason alone, I'm thankful that I failed. At the time, I was convinced it would be easier in the long run for them to forget about me. I no longer think this is true.

There are few close family members who would have moments of melancholy and perhaps misguided guilt for years to come. For most of my family, and a few (very few) friends, however, there would be an initial and sincere grieving process, but it would not last too long. Then, for some who "know" me and for those who know "of me" (as a vile sex offender and nothing more) there might be relief and a sense of justice ser ved.

The saddest realization of all, though, is that for the only two women that I have ever loved, there would be happiness and relief. What does that say about me as a human being? Is there anything more revealing of a truly pathetic existence than the fact that the only humans you ever loved (romantically) would be better off and happier if you were dead? This is not a mere personal pity party. I'm little more than a lingering annoyance to either of them. I also happen to be the biological father of their children, and this might matter somewhat to my ex wife, as she would have to deal with our kids' grief. But for Jess, it would likely simplify her future, and that of our son, significantly. He's never met me, and she wouldn't have to worry about me wanting to know my son.

This, ironically, is somewhat opposite of the intended rationale of that decision. I wanted them to realize how much they have hurt me. That's a rather pathetic reason, I now realize, but it's also the truth. The other reason, of course, is that this sucks. I'm pleased to say that I am past this, though life is far from rosy.

The way that the Department of Corrections deals with potential suicides is as previously mentioned. The isolation cells are fondly referred to as "feces cells" because they're never cleaned out and reek of shit and piss. This is how they "prevent" suicidal inmates? Anyone who seriously wanted or needed help would never admit to these ideations, in fact, I made sure to not tell anyone that last time. And those who did disclose their desires or thoughts are truly encouraged by those conditions to do so (to commit suicide, that is).

And this problem is hardly finished when inmates, particularly sex offenders, are released. This prison is full of people who have returned here for truly ridiculous violations of their parole and probation. We in here know how little reason, and how much unjust treatment exists "on the outside." I have read about several people who have taken their lives when seeing an "official" knocking on their door. Without knowing why, even knowing that I might be "following the rules" of my supervision, I could very well do the same thing. The "rules" are meaningless in this state, and everyone in here knows it, and I'm certain that most would not want to return, though statistically we may very well do so.

This is yet another significant area that needs truly enlightened and compassionate reform.

Rehabilitation, not!

I once had the naive idea that one of the primary goals of the prison system was rehabilitation. Nothing can be further from the truth. There is not even a precept of a sign of any attempt to help the people in the prisons of Arizona. In my experience, the vast majority of those in here are good people who made mistakes. A mistake that, in most cases, destroys their life forever, putting them beyond care, consideration, hope, or help. I will start with general observations.

First, and tragically, there is extremely limited access to any type of mental health therapy or counseling. Just the experience of prison is enough to obliterate the mental state of even well-balanced human beings. Add to that the fact that many are here because of an already unbalanced mental state, and you have an epidemic of insanity. Psych drugs are prescribed like M&M's and positive, genuine therapy is unheard of.

I made more progress on my personal issues in the month before I was incarcerated with four or five visits to a therapist than the whole year since. And I am making efforts and through reading, support groups, and attempts to get counseling. Many people are unable to do even that.

There are groups for AA, NA (narcotics anonymous), and SA (sexaholics anonymous). Allow me to share my experience with SA. Meetings are held once a week with an outside volunteer. The group is canceled, for one reason or another, about half of the time. In group, which usually has 4 to 6 participants on a yard of 1400 sex offenders, several individuals, including the sponsor, spend time "telling stories" that often have nothing to do with sex addiction.

But wait, it gets better. The library schedule changed so that the only time I could go to the library was during the meetings. Now, there is an evening library, for those unable to attend regular hours. While the SA classes are not that great, I still feel that it's better than nothing, so I applied for "evening library" so I could continue the only thing available for sex addiction on a sex offender yard. I was denied, twice. So I am forced to continue my "therapy" on my own. This shows how the administration views efforts of self-help.

I don't know if the AA and NA classes are as inefficient as this. Nearly all sex offenders are legally required to take classes upon release, which can be after a long time. They used to hold those classes here, but they did not count towards the requirement. Of course, when we get out, we have to pay for those classes, which is why they did not count, I assume.

There are a few mandatory "rehabilitation" classes. I am currently in "cognitive reshaping" - it's a (supposedly) 22 week course. It also was canceled nearly every other week and ended up being a grand total of six classes. There is a "reentry" class that one must take when close to release. Apparently much of the information is completely untrue.

The idea that "prisons create prisoners" is, unfortunately, very true. Without a positive, professional, efficient and frequent opportunities to learn, to heal, to understand, and to investigate the factors contributing to one's choices, inmates must rely on each other as role models, therapists, and as a support network. This results in a scenario of the blind leading the blind. I have never tended toward violence in my entire life, but since I've been here I've had several episodes of wanting to punch people. I have refrained thus far, but it's only a matter of time. (I just asked my neighbor if I could punch him. Why? Because I feel like punching somebody!)

 Without authentic opportunities to create and improve life, academic, and vocational skills, felons will generally go back to a similar lifestyle. And in many cases, like my own, when a previous vocation is not available to a felon, they can "learn" from and be influenced by unsavory opportunities that might previously have never been considered. Most in here lack the strength, intellect, and ambition to make prison an opportunity for growth, healing, learning, or self reflection, which should be a primary goal for the "correctional" institutions of this country.

Education and Rehabilitation in The Cage

I have written a very general overview on these topics of life in the cage, but I'd like to provide more specifics on these two topics. They're very much intertwined in terms of how they can influence the attitudes, perceptions, and opportunities for prisoners. I will start with education, then discuss rehabilitation, then offer general observations.

One of the very few things that the Arizona Department of Corrections is doing well is the general education and GED program. All new arrivals must pass a mandatory exam in math, reading, and writing. It's at around an eighth grade level. Even inmates with advanced degrees must pass these tests, which are given about once a month. So in my case, I had to take "remedial" classes for about three weeks until the test was offered. The "tutors" for the classes are other inmates who must have at least a high school or equivalent education. It goes without saying that there's quite a variety of quality amongst the tutors. When it was discovered that I clearly needed no help on the mandatory tests, I was left to my own devices and also helped out tutoring other students.

After passing the mandatory, an inmate has the choice to take GED classes, if they cannot provide proof of a high school diploma. The GED is strongly encouraged, it provides an increased pay rate and also is required for some jobs and for "higher" education options. An inmate may continue classes as long as it takes to pass all parts of the GED. The same tutors work with these students. The actual teachers in the classrooms (who are not inmates) deal with paperwork, organization, and support for the tutors and students.

The higher education options are much more limited, and considerably less efficient. There are a few classes taught by inmates. On my yard there is music theory, poetry, graphic novel writing (comic books), and more. These are taught by inmates and "come and go" with the teachers. There are long waiting lists for the popular classes. 

And then there is the Central Arizona College (CAC) vocational courses. Each yard has a different course. There is building maintenance (carpentry, plumbing, electrical, HV AC, and etc.) on my yard. There are also cooking, welding, business, and custodial maintenance; each on a different yard.

This is nice, in theory, but there are several issues. First and foremost is the inefficiency that pervades most everything in the DOC. We are in class five hours a day, and of that time only one hour is actual teaching time. The content is limited to key ideas and much is omitted. Also, the classes are canceled frequently.

Another problem is that assignment to a yard is random. Rather than attempting to match an inmate's aptitude or interest, an inmate has only the option that is available on their yard. This is motivationally inefficient.

Finally, inmates may take correspondence courses, provided they are able to pay for them. There are some scholarships available, but theoretically, only if you do not already have a college degree. But an even bigger issue than this is the fact that courses cannot have any online component, which is virtually unheard of in this day and age. The prison system must acknowledge and utilize the technology of the times. While I'm certain that security is an issue, there are many safeguards that would prevent abuse of this technology.

Prison Efficiency

On this, my last day in the building maintenance course, I had a typically interesting morning. The general rule of thumb is that we are supposed to be "called out" for school, work, chow, meds, and whatnot. For some reason, they rarely ever call out my CAC building class. So I have devised several ways to "escape" from my run and get to class on time. Well, as usual, I got out this morning and was at the gate between yards to go to class. The cantankerous cop asked where I was going, and I told her.  

"They haven't called you out yet," she said to me.

"They never call us out," said I.
"Yes they do, if you would just wait in your run, you would hear them, now get back home and wait until you are called."

"Yes ma'am," I said.

Of course, they didn't call. By this time I was late, and I asked the CO in my run if we had class. Twice. He couldn't be bothered to pick up his radio and ask. Eventually, breakfast was called, so I went back up to the gate. I asked the same cantankerous cop if there was CAC. She did bother to pick up a radio, this time, and call to the class.

"Did you call for CAC?" she asked.

"Negative," came the crackly response.

"Is a teacher there, are there students there?"

"Affirmative," came the reply.

So she gave me a dirty look, and said "wait by the fence," as if I were the one who messed up. she made no apology or even acknowledgement that she had sent me back, telling me that they "always" call for class.

I got through the fence, but of course the classroom area was locked, so I waved through the window. Eventually, the instructor shuffled out and gruffly said "would you explain why you're half an hour late?" So I punched him. 

Oh, wait, that was just my fantasy. I explained, he let me in, and then the TA said, "good thing you're here, otherwise I'd have to giving you a zero"-- meaning 0 hours for zero "pay". Then I asked him if I could take my final exam. "No, we are getting sent home in a few minutes." And we were.

So, on the plus side, I will get paid my 75¢ for the day, but on the minus side, I have to go through all of it again… tomorrow.

Prison Economics

In previous posts, I have mentioned how the prison system is dictated by economics rather than any desire to rehabilitate prisoners or even to protect society. I would like to illustrate by giving some examples of prison economics. Please realize that I have very little access to any research materials, particularly those regarding prison policies; these are very much censored, but I both challenge and encourage you to do any facts checking or research that you like and feel free to point out any errors.

First, and most obvious, is the fact that states are given funding per prisoner by the Federal government. This is in addition to any state taxes designated toward the prison system. These funds are ostensibly to cover the costs of facilities, like housing, food, medical care, clothing, and other "necessities". Following this money trail would be an interesting endeavor. These are the "costs" most commonly associated with the prison system.

There is a whole other world of economics also depended on or influenced by this institution. Employment is amongst the most significant of these. The entire community of this small town in Arizona is completely dependent on the several prison complexes is located here, it is fair to say that the town would probably not exist without state prison.

The indirect economics are even more far reaching. There is first, the exorbitant bail bond percentages. While in county jail, I tried to use the "bail bond ATM" that took an immediate 10% of the transaction. In my case this would have been $500, poof - up in smoke. Fortunately, I was unsuccessful and had to sit in jail until my sister posted bail, without this fee, as she paid cash, in person.

These, and other transaction fees, are a part of every money exchange. Any money sent to me in prison has a 1% fee taken off. Western union or other money wiring services also tack on additional fees. When considering the thousands of inmates in Arizona alone, that is big money.

The telephone system might be the biggest money scam going. For in - state calls, it costs about $6.00 for 15 minutes. That's whether the inmate pays or the call's receiver pays. Out - of - state calls are around $10.00 for 15 minutes. Those with cell phones (which is almost everyone now) must set up an account and pay a service fee of $5.00 every time they add money to this account. This is obscene when one considers that some phone plans are $10.00 or less for unlimited calling per month!

Then there's the "store" operated by an outside vendor. A package of ramen soup is 59¢ at present. Grocery stores might sell 10 for $1.00. Soft drinks are $1.50 for a bottle, candy bars $1.15. These prices are similar to those one might find in a convenience store, but we have no other options. If a loved one sends us a care package, they pay a $5.00 fee for an order up to $40.00 (that's the maximum) regardless of the amount spent. This is more than 12% at best!

We have several "fundraisers" throughout the year for pizza, or Sam's Club, burritos or whatnot. The price to the inmate is double the cost to the general public, with 50% going to some charity. I believe this is a nice gesture, but one must consider that if an inmate is able to get a job, they will earn from 20¢ to 45¢ per hour.

Funding is also generated for programs such as anger management, drug or alcohol abuse, job training, and GED education. Again, this is not a bad thing but it is curious that these programs are frequently canceled, often run much shorter than their allotted duration, and are repeated with different names. I suspect that the funding comes in regardless of whether or not the class runs its course.

Here in Arizona, visitors must pay a "background check" fee of $25.00 to be allowed to see their loved ones. That's a lot of money considering the number of inmates in the state. Never mind that for an economically struggling single parent, this could be prohibitive, preventing spouses, families, and even parents and kids from being allowed to see each other. I'm sure that there are many who feel that inmates should not have any of these "benefits." This is not the point at hand. There are a number of people and companies that depend upon this captive population to generate revenue, and this puts pressure on legislators and politicians to appease those with a monetary interest in the system. This requires a stream of prisoners with long sentences, paroles and probations with some ludicrous requirements, a violation of which will send them back into the system. To give just a single example I know and 80 year old man who is here because he was two days late in registering his address after moving a few miles away. This is an all too common scenario, but that's not important, keep the money rolling in!

Love sick, heartbreak, self pity prattle

More blogs! I'd like to attribute this spate of prolific activity to an unbridled enthusiasm for our new blog. And while that is in fact true, there's also the darker reasons that nobody else is writing to me, and I'm still (always) consumed with thoughts of Jess and all that went down. I have written so much on this "topic" already, as you will discover ad nauseam, but I wanted to attempt to summarize my thoughts into a single essay. As you can see, I failed miserably in that, and ended up with a trilogy the still barely scratches the surface.

I just have far too much floating around my brain to adequately presented. I have brief periods where I can still the "monkey mind," but they are few and far between. I am just now, as I write this, thinking of this whole aspect on Jess that I omitted: my "delicate flower in a suit of armor" theory.

But I don't want this blog to turn into lovesick, heartbreak, self pity blathering.

I really am a rather pathetic waif. I have noticed that while I have asked repeatedly if you agreed that I'm foolishly naive, you have skillfully avoided comment on the subject. Fair enough I suppose. It really only matters to me. I shouldn't need validation or repudiation from others. While I realize that this is merely another aspect of the impermanent nature of phenomenon, and that only this present moment exists, this present moment is in a prison and the lack of understanding of it all is a never ending itch that cannot be scratched! And that is a part of the present moment's sensation. Ugh.

So, one of the many reasons I fell in love with Jess is her amazing strength of character. Though I came to realize that while certainly a very strong woman, she had a soft and sensitive side that was really hard to get through to. I called her a "delicate flower in a suit of armor". I attributed this to the traumatic experiences in her past - a rape in her teens and an abusive boyfriend later in life. She fled this relationship literally fearing for her life. She also fled an engagement only a year or so before when we got together. I realize now that this pattern might not be entirely due to how she was treated. I wonder if she tells the same tales about me, and while I know I caused her pain and suffering, it was only indirect, based on past misdeeds and not in how I treated her.

She also mentioned that she tried to call me once, after "the incident" in a "moment of weakness". She said something similar about a tender comment about missing and loving me in our brief phase of communication. While I don't want to assume, it seems clear that strength for her is concealing things and running away rather than confronting the situation or communicating. I am precisely the opposite and have continued to share my thoughts, feelings, and declarations of love. I imagine this makes me particularly weak and foolish in her estimation. We often joked about my "sappiness".

One of the things that I see in here that can really get me down is when an inmate's significant other stands by and supports the inmate through this awful process. Sometimes it's similar charges, sometimes what I would consider much worse. Not only did Jess not stand by me, she actually instigated this. I mean, I'm happy for the inmate but I'm also envious. I wonder, is this foolish naiveté or real love? Probably it's both, perhaps that's part of love.

Yet it's not that I expect reciprocation, but I'd like at least communication. I wonder if my inability to let go is due to a fear of being like the "tin man" without a heart, encased in a metal shell. This is a metaphor Jess once stated she identified with. Maybe I fear if I let go of my love and compassion, "nothingness" will take its place.

I believe, however, that honesty and truth when confronting difficulties is not weakness. This strategy, regretfully, has not turned out well in either of my serious relationships. It also contributed to this prison sentence, but I still think it's the way to go. Perhaps I must be truthful in moderation, as the "middle way" of Buddhism suggests.

Comments and questions are welcome.

And justice for all?

In order to reveal some of the broken aspects of the justice system, I'd like to share some of the experiences in my legal sojourn.

In my case, I took a plea for two charges, one had a mandatory sentence of 5 to 10 years in prison, the other was 5 to 15 years but had probation available. In preparing for my case, the prosecutor had presented evidence that was inconsistent at best, and blatantly untrue at worst. I pointed this out to my lawyer, who basically dismissed it as "unimportant." Well, as it turned out, this was not only the primary factor, but the only factor that the judge cited in the "partially mitigated" sentence of 7.5 years.

There was a long list of mitigating factors, including the lack of criminal history, my work in the community, my remorse, and my network of supportive family and friends, and a psychological exam showing little risk to act out. The aggravating factor was the number of images – which was unsubstantiated. The "evidence" was a computer program that looked through the computer to find " known or suspected" examples of potential child porn. The prosecution cited them all as confirmed examples, and suggested that perhaps there were more, with no evidence to back that claim.

So I submitted an appeal with the assistance of a public defender. I did not and do not claim innocence in the charges. But I maintained that the "aggravating" factor was not accurate. Well, the public defender also omitted this in the appeal and took a different approach.

The amazing and incredulous aspect of this, however, is that the only people to look at and decide on this "appeal" were the very same prosecutor and the very same judge that sentenced me in the first place. So in an attempt two points out any bias, inconsistencies, or mistakes in judgment, the decision falls to the very same people who are suspected or accused of those deficiencies. Will, needless to say, they disagreed and denied my appeal. I don't know about you, but it seems to me that the whole purpose of an appeal is to provide a new objective perspective on a case as a means of checks and balances. I'm sure it comes as little surprise that a minuscule number of cases are ever granted any form of relief in this process.

I am now on the journey of having the state court of appeals view my case, but I must do so without legal representation. I'm on my own. This difficulty is greatly exacerbated by the fact that I have extremely limited access to legal resources in our library. The few resources that are available are in high demand and library hours are extremely limited. These resources are also written in a "legal speak" designed for a knowledgeable attorney. The Arizona Dept of Corrections maintains that this scenario satisfies the constitutional rights of inmates to have access to legal material.

So overall, I am far from optimistic as to the outcome of my legal journey. I have learned much and continue to study about the legal system. I once thought that the objective was to give a defendant a fair and balanced trial. I have learned that there are a myriad of obstacles to that end. In my current appeals process, I am significantly limited to what objections or facts can be raised based on previous trials. I have also learned there are a number of statutes and policies that protect a prosecutor from a potential "wrongdoing."

I should also point out that the defendant has significantly more options if they do not sign a plea bargain, yet the system will apply significant pressure to take a plea. In my case, I was looking at 100 to 300 years if I went to trial and lost. The plea appears to be a "no brainer," but I implore anyone in a legal battle to seek resources and information aside from the lawyer's counsel. In my situation, I believe it made sense, and I know I was guilty, but be aware of the limitations it provides. Above all, do not trust the system to make any attempts to do anything on your behalf. This system wants you to be charged, to generate more income for the state, and to boost statistics as to what a fine job they are doing to protect society. The truth is not important.

This is not merely a "sour grapes" whiny lamentation of my personal situation. I see these scenarios again and again, and have heard similar sentiments from legal representatives, probation officers, pretrial case managers, and in several research articles and publications. I think it's important that people realize this reality, and I hope none of you or your loved one's ever has to go through such a process.

An Electrifying Entry

I'm "currently" studying electrical theory, circuits, and diagrams in my building maintenance course. This prompted me to come up with an analogy to my present situation.

I frequently think about how and why Jess "put me" in this horrible situation. But do I really have any right to put any blame on her, whatsoever? Isn't this all really my own fault? Well here is a "current" thought. (Ha ha!)

It's kind of like a three way switch. In my past, completely unrelated to, and independent of, Jess, I made a horribly poor choice. I flipped the switch on which allowed power to flow through to the second switch. Jess had complete control of that second switch, and for reasons I have yet to understand, she threw the switch that led to the destruction of my life.

Her choice was completely independent of my own, yet I provided that power to her, the power to destroy. She decided to do so without hesitation and without investigating the source or the nature of that power, and perhaps without considering the long-term effects. Though by her admission, it seems that she had considered the implications and destruction that would result. It is what it is.

She once told me she felt that there were no "good" choices in this situation, and that is very true. Though for the life of me I can't see how there could have been a worse outcome. Not only for me, as I "made my bed" so to speak, but also for my kids, our new son, and really my entire family. It seems that this was also the worst outcome for Jess herself. Had she not gone to the police, I could have provided both financial and emotional support to her and to our son. While probably unrealistic, there could have been a slight possibility of "reconciliation" of sorts between us. I sometimes wonder if that had something to do with her decision, that it was a way to prevent any chance of reconciliation, by removing me from the equation. She could not be tempted to "try again" in any way, shape, or form. Perhaps I flatter myself to think this way.

I'm sure that she realized that I would seek another chance – I said as much several times. Maybe she feared I would turn into a stalker. And while I certainly would have tried to make things work, I also know that I would have (and will) be respectful of her decisions, whether or not I understand or agree. I truly feel that there were better ways, but that means very little now and I have no influence on her choices. I do confess that I hope she might someday see this, and while it won't change the past, it might lead to more peace and communication between us.

Maybe I've hurt her too deeply for that to ever occur. She did once state that she knew I did not act "against" her. I sometimes feel, though, that are acts were directed "against" me, and perhaps justifiably so, but I wonder if she thinks of it that way.

A mutual friend once wrote that she thought neither of us could have hurt the other intentionally, yet I struggle to understand that. Had it been a truly emotional reaction to events, which I can completely understand, then yes I could see that. But based on her extremely brief and shallow communication on that subject, that doesn't seem to be the case.

Maybe she's still in an emotionally reactive state. Perhaps I am as well, and I know that I am, but I think I've considered things long and hard, from many angles and perspectives. While I'd like to say that I'm being objective and equanimous, I realize that there is an "I" in that statement and sentiment. Perhaps this is one reason that I desperately seek feedback, validation, or challenge from others.

So there are some current thoughts on power. It's quite an electrically charged idea! I should sit and meditate on the "ohm", and go with the flow. You know, try to see the light and be one with the source. After all, we are all connected, wired together. I must accept the shocking reality of my situation. And with that I will open the circuits and power down.

Love, Loss and Life Lessons: Part Three, Life Lessons

So for the past year here in prison I have been consumed by thoughts of this whole affair. I recognize the futility of fixating on the "could have, should have, would have been" scenarios, and while they do cross my mind frequently that's not what causes the most pain. I know that I can't change what happened, so while I do sometimes think of the "what if," that also is not so debilitating. The worst part of all is just plain not understanding.

For a long time I was caught up in the whole "how could she do this when I loved her so much, when I showed her nothing but kindness, support, and my entire heart and soul" idealism. I realize, though, that this doesn't really matter. My feelings for her have little to do with her actions or her feelings toward me. Then, there was the "how could someone who truly loved me do such a thing to destroy my life and put my kids and my family through such difficulties?" Well, that one was a little harder to digest but, obviously, she didn't really love me. I believe that she thought she did when she agreed to marry me. Perhaps her view of love is not the same as mine. I think that "true love" is unconditional, but this is really quite rare. I have only experienced it once in my life. I loved my ex-wife, but it wasn't really the same.

So if love is unconditional, then I should still feel it. That's one of the other big problems. I do. But I feel like it's extremely foolish and perhaps even weak to continue to love someone who has literally destroyed my life. I know that many would say that I destroyed my life, not anyone else. I acknowledge my mistakes, and the fact that I was over and done with them doesn't eliminate my accountability. But turning me in to the police was the most damaging course of action to all parties involved. My kids are suffering both emotionally and economically. I'm unable to contribute anything to my new son, which I would have done regardless of where he is. And even when I get out I will struggle with probation and then sex offender restrictions, forever.

I do go through periods of anger towards Jess, but more so at myself. Really there's little anger over all. There is mostly sadness and frustration. I just feel like it's so unresolved. I know I'm in prison for years to come but that's not the resolution to which I am referring. I still harbor fantasies or illusions that Jess will realize she made a huge mistake. I know I made a huge mistake, I immediately admitted it (albeit a little too late) and offered to seek therapy with or without her. I thought that love was mutual support, in good times and bad, sickness and health, including mental and emotional sickness. I guess that, too, is naive.

I know that Jess has been through traumatic experiences -- this whole thing being but one of them -- and they no doubt have influenced her greatly. It seems like we could have healed, rehabilitated, and grown stronger supporting each other. But that's just another "could have".

I've come to accept that I cannot control anyone else's thoughts, feelings, or actions. I must accept that I cannot be the father that I had hoped to be, but I am still a father who cares deeply for his kids. I have learned to accept that, while I might think that something should happen because it is "right" or "just" (like Jess sharing information with me about our son)- that doesn't mean that it will happen. I realize that I can only do what I believe is proper, to love and care for my children and Jess unconditionally, and I cannot expect anything in return. And that is what unconditional love means.

I would welcome any thoughts on this topic.

Love, Loss and Life Lessons: Part Two: Loss

A few months later, it happened. She found images of child porn that I was attempting to delete from my computer. Being with Jess had awakened me from my karmic pattern of abuse and despondency and I was truly putting those things behind me. She exploded with fear, rage, and confusion and I was unable to speak to her. She left the next day, with my computer and external drive.

I decided to be completely honest and I sent an e-mail confessing my porn addiction and fascination with younger girls' images. I told her that this was over, due in large part to my love for her. She did not reply. I never considered the possibility that she would turn this over to the cops. I was only worried about losing her. I tried to explain myself honestly and respectfully, asking that she just talk to me. All to no avail.

Had I lied, or even maintained silence, I would not have been sentenced so harshly. Those letters provided evidence beyond a shred of doubt that I was guilty. She had gone to the police a week after she left, but I would not know that for some time.

The only communications from her in the first few months were "leave me alone" and "please pay for the patio, as I will never see or use it." Neither would I. Eventually she sent a long scathing letter about how horrible I was, that our romance was a sham, and hopefully, now that my secret was out, I would not act on my horrible perversions.

It was obvious to me that she made many assumptions without any attempt to believe or discover the underlying realities. Yes, I had these pictures, but they did not define me whatsoever. I had hoped that perhaps she was still extremely emotional from the discovery and pregnancy and not really able to see past that. Maybe in time that would change. We eventually resumed communication, but she would not really talk about why she went to the police and what happened in the weeks after her discovery. She did ask for more of an explanation from me as to how, why, and what was going on. I wrote her, asking her to promise it would not go to the police. It seems she kept her word on that.

She claimed she hoped I'd have a place in our son's life. She expressed a desire to remain friends. She slipped up once and claimed to love and miss me. But she would not really explain. I didn't press, as she was pregnant and I had caused more than enough stress for her and our baby already.

I went to jail and wrote her often. She did not reply, but allowed me to call her. Our son was born in November 2011. I got to hear him cry and coo on the phone. I was shipped to prison in December 2011. I continued to write to Jess and our son. I began to ask some questions, as the baby had been born and I thought she might be ready to communicate. I have not heard a word from her yet. I have offered to pay for a flight to Arizona, so I could see my son and talk to her as well. She had expressed that this was possible while I was in county jail, but I have heard nothing since. I sent Christmas money and some little gifts to her and our boy. I don't know if she got them. I continue to write to them both, though mostly to my son these days. His first birthday is just around the corner.

Love, Loss, and Life lessons: Part One: Love

In the past year and a half, I have experienced imprisonment, loss of job and career, loss of my home, public humiliation, and extremely limited access to my children. But none of these have caused as much pain and suffering as losing the love of my life and our boy. There's so much I don't understand, and it still hurts more than anything I've ever experienced. I continue to shed tears, almost daily, over the pain, confusion, and heartbreak of this loss.

First, a brief overview of the whirlwind courtship -- slightly shorter than the relationship itself. After my divorce, I retreated from any real efforts to court women. I was hurt, mistrustful, scared, and lacking in confidence. I took care of my "needs" via computer porn, including - but by no means limited to - underage images. I was in a karmic pattern of spiritual and emotional abuse. I also settled into a "complacency of contentment," doing what I needed to do to care for my kids and to provide for my family, but little more. I was not unhappy, but I was not particularly joyful either. I gained weight and really did not take great care of myself.

I first met Jess through her brother (my now ex-best friend). That was shortly after my divorce, but my attraction was immediate. I sensed a strength and life spirit that was vibrant and beautiful. The physical attraction was also very strong. But she was off to Central America, and nothing developed. I saw her only one other time in the next few years, and the feelings and attraction were still there. We danced at a concert together and I felt sparks, but it was a brief visit and again nothing developed.

Her brother planned to a trip to visit her in Honduras and asked if I wanted to go. I was wavering until he mentioned that Jess was single and really wanted me to visit. I began a campaign to lose weight in the months leading up to the trip. I was cautiously optimistic. We hooked up the very first night, though I was embarrassingly unable to "rise" to the occasion. That pattern continued a full week. She initially took it as a lack of physical or sexual attraction. Nothing could have been further from the truth. If anything, I may have been "over eager", though I'm sure my years of pornographic dependency was also a factor. In only a few days, I realized I was in love, and reluctantly confessed this to her. We spoke of possibilities. She asked if I wanted more kids, something that she needed and wanted in a relationship. I was hesitant at first -- I was over 40! -- but realized I could see myself raising a child with her, and loving it.

We kept in contact via Facebook and phone and I visited again a couple months later. It was beautiful, magical, and incredible, at least for me. My previous problem was over, and we really connected on many levels. She tried out the words "I love you" because she ”just wanted to say it". We shared deep vulnerabilities and flaws. I admitted my attraction to "schoolgirl" porn, but not the whole story. I expressed a concern about real communication in difficult times, as it was a large contributing factor to my divorce. Jess assured me that we would talk about problems.

We had a foundation for a relationship and she eventually came to Arizona to try things out. It was really quite glorious. My kids loved her, I loved her, and I thought that she loved me. We spent many nights talking, drinking, and smoking, planning a life together. Three more years of teaching and my retirement would be "matched"...then a life between Arizona, the Carolinas, and Honduras...we brainstormed business ideas and dreams. I'd lost some 35 pounds by then. I proposed in a drunken delirium, and she accepted. I fashioned an engagement ring out of a wire from a cork-top beer bottle cap. I had never been so truly happy or so truly in love in my life.

She went back to Honduras, wrapped up her life there, and moved to Arizona for good. I did notice a slight change, which I attributed it to the "honeymoon" phase being over. Also, she was working in a new job and then very quickly she was pregnant. We were both thrilled! We began a patio extension to my small home to create more space and a "jungle" room for Jess and the baby, as the dry desert was a tough change for her. Things were still good, but there were some stresses of reality and security. Her libido had diminished in pregnancy, and we were just surviving financially.

Sex Offender Saga... or... Sex Offender Sympathy

I am labeled a sex offender. I will be labeled and branded a sex offender for the rest of my life. Before you lock up the kids and start demanding my crucifixion , I would ask that you consider some of the points I'd like to share with you.

Allow me to start by saying that I am guilty. I had in my procession, on my computer, images of child pornography. I'm not proud of it, and I knowledge that horrors and abuse is that some of the models undoubtedly experienced because of those pictures. I also acknowledge that I contributed to that system of abuse, albeit in an indirect manner. I rationalized that they were "only pictures," that I did not take those pictures, that I did not contribute money toward the system, that they were already out there, in cyberspace. This was foolish, naive, and irresponsible. So please realize that this essay is far more than "sour grapes" toward the system that condemned me.

As a loving parent and a former teacher, I strongly agree that our children need and deserve protection on this planet. But things have gone far above and beyond what is necessary and what is right to protect those children and society as a whole.

Let me first share some facts about the sex offender registration and mentality. First off, all across this nation there are many juvenile sex offenders who have been imprisoned and or branded as a sex offenders, sometimes for life. Most commonly, for having sexual contact with another minor child, even when they themselves were minors. Did you ever "experiment" or "play doctor." as a child? You could be a sex offender! When you were 18, did you ever have a relationship with someone younger? Maybe even a few months younger? You could be a sex offender. Do you ever take a leak in the bushes or behind a tree? You could be a sex offender! Branded and labeled for life, with a host of restrictions on where you can live in which you can do.

I admit that my situation goes beyond this. However, the line between reality and fantasy has never been in question as to my actions toward any human being. The restrictions placed on SOs make the assumption that all people convicted of a sex crime regardless of age, situation or even the actual contact with the victim, are a danger to society. Forever.

This is not the case for murderers, drug dealers, armed robbers, and a whole host of other violent offenders. A sex offender must register their whereabouts at all times, but not so for a murderer. Murderers can live amongst you anonymously.

It seems that thinking, or fantasizing, about something sex-related is equivalent to doing it. It's kind of "precognitive" sentencing, just like in the Tom Cruise movie.

According to a research article by Marshall Burns PhD, in federal statutes, looking at a picture of a boy with an erection is worse than killing him. I know that in Arizona, sentences for possessing child porn are sometimes greater than those for murder, assault, and actually sleeping with a minor (consensually).

The argument for the registry is that these people are going to potentially act on their fantasies. But where does this stop? Have you ever thought of "killing your boss" or your ex? Every human has the potential to do horrible things. A person driving while intoxicated has the potential to kill, yet they need not spend years in prison and register for life, or never touch a car or drink again.

Those who buy illegal drugs do not have the same stigma, yet they could become abusive or neglectful parents, and there is little doubt that the drug trade is responsible for much abuse and violence, sometimes two words innocent civilians. But the casual drug user is not held responsible for that.

There are truly dangerous people in prisons, for many reasons, not least among them true sexual atrocities. But the truth is, these people are the minority of sex offenders. I'm a sex offender without having had sex! (Inappropriate six, anyway.) The laws of child pornography are so inflexible that one of the first lawyers I spoke to pointed out that my ex fiancée could also be prosecuted for looking at the images that she saw when she turned them over to the police. He said that there was already a strong case against her for that. Needless to say, I did not align myself with such an attorney, but it does illustrate the lack of reason and logic in the current laws.

The current persecution of supposed sex offenders is similar to the witch trials of ancient days, an attempt to find or create a scapegoat and as a distraction for society. And it's a convenient target as it's a difficult topic to address. I have a suspicion that one reason it's so easy to condemn these "sexual deviants" is that many of us harbor dark, strange, and maybe even disturbed thoughts and fantasies. It's similar to the notion that the most vociferous gay bashers may have homosexual tendencies that they tried to deny.

Again I admit that I crossed the line by actually downloading pictures, and that went a step beyond thoughts. In no way was I, or am I obsessed with kids as a sexual object - but it was a regrettable part of a wider interest/fascination with pornography in general. There is no predominant interest in such pictures—but there was a curiosity—in large part I suspect, due to the taboo nature of it. I'm no more likely to act out than anyone else, and probably less than some. I am paying the price, I've taken personal responsibility, and I accept the situation. That does not imply that the crime is proportional to the sentence of 7 1/2 years, lifetime probation, and lifetime registration.

The pain, suffering, and destruction to the lives of many offenders and their families is far more damaging to society than protecting of it. For further information and research see the following resources:

www.SOLresearch.org

Reform Sex Offender L (RSOL)

Life in the Cage

This essay this meant to give a brief overview of life on a prison yard in Arizona.  Like most people, my preconceived notions of prison came primarily from television.  The reality of it is rather different.  In some ways better, in some ways worse

The yard where I live it's called a level 3 yard, which is considered " medium" security.  A "1" yard is the "lightest" security and a "6" yard is the highest.  As 6 yard is individual cells, with maybe one hour a day outside.  The meals are delivered to cells, and rec facilities are nonexistent with " common" showers at specified times.

My yard is designated as a sex offender, or SO yard.  In Arizona, S O's are segregated from the general population due to violence against the "lowest of the low," the "scum of the earth." Ironically, due to this fact the population is a bit more educated and tends to be a bit older.  There is far less "gang banger" mentality, and less overall violence, although it does still exist.

I live in a dormitory, with 26 bunk beds making 52 bunks.  There's approximately three feet between the bunks, which were designed for single beds, so the setup is rather compacted.

Every day, we have recreation from 8:00 AM until 10:00 AM, 1:00 PM until 3:00 PM, and 6:00 PM until 7:30 PM.  The yard is a barren dust bowl without a tree or blade of grass.  There are "workout stations," a soccer field/baseball field, a volleyball court, basketball court, horseshoe pit, and a bocce pitch.  There are a few shaded ramadas, one for each race.  And there is a wide variety of games and equipment for check out.

Monday through Friday, we get three meals a day.  The food is edible, but that's about it.  Think elementary cafeteria, but a couple notches down in quality.  While it's not exactly "bread and water" it's not far off.  Many days we get eight slices of bread.  One common breakfast is four pancakes, two slices of bread, and cereal.  Talk about carbs!  "Dinner" is a "take home" sack, with four slices of bread, some processed meat, usually baloney, chips and cookies.  That's every Monday through Friday.  On weekends we get two "hot" meals.

There is a store where we can order snacks, tobacco, soda, ramen soup, and other junk foods.  We get no fresh fruit or fresh veggies...ever.  Everything is canned and processed, with the exception of salad which is iceberg lettuce or cabbage.  That's it, I haven't seen a tomato in a year.

The worst aspect is the complete lack of logic or reason in the ever shifting policies.  I take "building maintenance"  classes, which are canceled more often then held, and we often get strip searched upon leaving class.  We go out to the "strip shack" where we get into stalls to strip down.  But get this.  We leave our "book bags" outside the shack, uninspected, and then pick them up and head back to our homes afterwards.  At the gate between yards, we sometimes get patted down, but again carrying a bag full of "store" or something else that never gets looked at.

There is a decent library, which we must stand in line for, sometimes up to 45 minutes.  Really, I feel that half my time is waiting in lines.  For meals, for store, for medical, for library, to cross the gates, and for "programs" that may or may not be held.

I have a small TV, a CD Walkman, and a lot of books.  They make life bearable.  I read, write, meditate, do yoga, workout, and play volleyball.  Yet time still drags.  I once read about prison that days last forever, but weeks and months blend together to fly by.  It's quite true.

The "correctional officers" (C O's) are mostly respectful, but of course there are those with attitudes who use their power  to abuse inmates.  But this lack of respect works both ways - many inmates love to bait the "cops" particularly those who are assholes, which creates a vicious cycle.  I can receive approved visitors on weekends, "full contact", which means no  glass with the phone.  It's actually a pleasant visiting space with colorful murals and a selection of games and vending machines.

The highlight of the year is the "food visit" where family or friends can bring in food from the outside.  It's like a big picnic and one of the few things to really look forward to.  I've had one thus far as I'm a "newbie" or "fish".

The general environment is like a junior high school boys' locker room, as far as mentality goes.  Constant bravado talk of "fucking bitches" and "I'll fuck you up" tend to dominate.  While this mentality is not true of the whole population, the volume and frequency of such talk makes it seem more prevalent than it is.

There is, of course, the ability to procure things if the price is right.  "Spice" is the current drug of choice, as it does not yet register on the urine tests that are administered randomly.  It's a synthetic marijuana type drug.  The "TV" scenario of trading cigarettes for goods is absolutely accurate.  The standard unit of currency is a honey bun, a sweet danish.  As you may imagine, particularly in a sex offender yard, this is the "butt" of many jokes.  Three cigarettes or two "squeeze cheeses"  equals a soup or an envelope, two envelopes equal a honey bun, and a pouch of tobacco is like a $20.00 bill!

Hustling is a means of income for many.  There are "Powerball" lotteries, sports pools, and an entire underground economy in electrical repairs, tattooing, sewing, and "procurement".

The whole "don't drop soap" scenario is not really present, unless one chooses to take that route, which happens but is uncommon.  Again, I believe it's more common on the general population yards.  I don't know of anyone who is an unwilling plaything for a powerful inmate.

I am able to receive books and CDs via the mail, provided they are sent by approved vendors.  There is no list, to my knowledge, of what is "approved".  Amazon works, but Amazon Marketplace does not.  I could not receive a book sent via "the marketplace," but I could allow it to be donated to our library.  Huh?

All in all, it's not a particularly horrible physical environment.  The worst aspects of it, at least for me, are more psychological than physical: I miss my kids, I've never even met my son, and the fact that I was sent here by the love of my life, who I only ever treated with loving kindness.  In the words of Gloria Gaynor, I will survive.

Religion In The Cage

It is sometimes said that Jesus is still alive in the prisons of this world. It's true -- he's over in building 7 in bunk C-33. And he's probably in every other bunk and every single bed everywhere in the world. Inmates spend a great deal of time talking about, debating, quoting, and understanding the bible. Then they go outside and say "Whachoo lookin' at mutha fucka?" and brag about the bitches they fucked and the dudes they fucked up. Oftentimes, the louder they "preach" the bible, the more shit they talk. Of course this is not so for everyone, but it's often the case.

I've been interested in religion, philosophy, and spirituality for most of my life. As a child, I had to go to church every Sunday, but as I grew older I began to question many aspects of Catholicism, Christianity, and religion in general. It seems to me that the single biggest factor in terms of one's belief system was where one was born.

In college, I spent enough time and energy on philosophy classes as electives that it turned into a second major. I tended to gravitate towards eastern religions like Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism, but I wasn't sure why. After college, my two years in Cairo, Egypt taught me much about Islam, and then I spent time in India exploring various ashrams and holy places. Three years in Japan added yet another perspective on faith and spirituality.

Being in prison has been one more step in my spiritual development. My intention was to try to join in on as many practicing groups as I could. There are obviously many Christian sects here, as well as Jewish, Muslim, Wiccan, Native American, and Buddhist groups. Unfortunately, I can only "choose" one religion, as far as services and prayer groups are concerned, so I have chosen Buddhism as my path.

The biggest reason that Buddhism appeals to me is the lack of an "all powerful, all seeing, all knowing" deity that oversees all. Buddhism and other eastern religions are much more personal. The Buddha-nature is already within us; we control or choose our actions and the consequences of those actions are our responsibility. It's not "God's Plan", it's our plan - but yet it still connects us to all other living beings.

I sincerely believe that Jesus Christ was a Buddha, which means "an enlightened being", and his message of love and compassion is precisely that of Gautama Buddha and so many others who preach compassion and love. 

What is meditation but sitting still to acknowledge the spirit of God within you? It's a more personal and intimate way of praying. The "holy trinity" of Buddhism -- mindfulness, impermanence, and non-attachment -- make so much sense to me in this confined environment, yet I realize that it that it just makes sense. Period.

I now spend a significant amount of time reading Buddhist, non-Buddhist, and self help books, I meditate 3 to 4 times a week, I practice yoga frequently and I am working things out mentally and emotionally. I hope to share some of my thoughts and ideas with you.

On Prison

 

September 26, 2012

The state penitentiary system of Arizona has absolutely convinced me of the unenlightened state of this nation.  I am sure that this will be regarded as unpatriotic or worse by many, but I believe that we have an obligation to make things better in any capacity that we can.

I can speak with an intimate knowledge of only the state of Arizona.  While it's possible that other states may well be trying to accomplish something positive in their own penal systems, I suspect that their policies are also dictated by the same ignorance and greed the is the motivation behind Arizona's System.  Economics governs the prison system far more than any desire to promote rehabilitation or provide justice.  This is understandable in these days of economic uncertainty and budget nightmares, but the concept is fundamentally flawed.

Prisons are viewed as a money generating institution (at least in Arizona) rather than the drain on taxes and loss of commerce that they truly are.  The jobs, funds, and micro-economies created by a penal institutions require a constant flow of prisoners, so there is no economic desire to deter  inmates from returning.  The oftentimes ridiculous restrictions on parolees, ex-felons, and sex offenders are more a reflection of economics than any desire to protect society.

In my situation here in Arizona,  top bunks have been added in all of the dorms designed for single occupancy, effectively doubling the capacity.  And the few programs that are offered for addiction, anger management, cognitive reshaping, and skill-based education seem to be more about the funds they generate from state and federal coffers than about any real attempt to create rehab or learning opportunity for inmates.

The lifetime probations -- an almost certain sentence in any sex offense -- require monthly fees and restrictions that make it nearly impossible for ex-cons and to survive, creating a revolving door of inmates that keep the finances coming. This is evidenced by the fact that while actual crime rates have remained constant and have even have declined in the past 10 to 20 years, sentences and recidivism rates continue to increase.

What governmental policy makers and legislators fail to realize, or more likely refuse to acknowledge, is that the system is an incredible drain on the financial structure as well as on societal growth as a whole.  Whether intentional or not, (I think we all know which is the case) any alternative would require drastic change of policy, and there's nothing that those with power fear more than change.

Is not our entire nation's existence supposed to be about "liberty and justice for all"?  Should not life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness be the underlying principle that guides policy and decisions?  It seems that, as a nation and a people, we have strayed so far from what is really important.  But I, for one, refuse to give up that belief. Is not our entire nation's existence supposed to be about "liberty and justice for all"?  Should not life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness be the underlying principle that guides policy and decisions?  It seems that, as a nation and a people, we have strayed so far from what is really important.  But I, for one, refuse to give up that belief.

My Situation

September 24, 2012

I'm incarcerated for sexual exploitation of a minor, or in layman's terms, possession of child pornography.  Allow me to immediately say that I have never, nor would I ever, act in a sexually inappropriate way toward any living human of any age.  I need to put that out there right away.  It does not excuse what I did, but I sincerely believe there to be a significant difference between looking at pictures and acting improperly toward another human being.

I acknowledge my guilt and claim full responsibility for my misguided and reprehensible mistakes.  I will say that while I realize that I have contributed to an abusive and exploitive  industry, I did not contribute money nor did I ever distribute or share these images.  This does not excuse my actions, but I believe it needed to be said.  Not a day passes that I am not sorry for what I did.

Not only have I lost my freedom through this ordeal, but also my career, my home through foreclosure, and my fiancée who I loved more than any other person in my life.  I have significantly affected my relationship with my kids from my marriage and obviously caused turmoil for them and many others.  My former fiancée gave birth to our son shortly after I was incarcerated, and I have never laid eyes on him, nor do I know anything about him.

A big question…  do I deserve all of this?  I most certainly do not condone my actions, but the short answer is NO, I do not think I do.  There is a tendency in our current society to label a variety of actions, neuroses, and activities within a single label of "sex offenses" and that label is commonly, in turn, perceived as "child molester" by media and society, regardless of the actual offense.

As stated, I never touched another person inappropriately and I find that repulsive, disgusting, and horrific in spite of my own crimes.  Yet my sentence is considerably longer than that of many others who did touch and/or had relations with minors.  One reason for this is that in Arizona, a single image carries a mandatory sentence of 5 to 15 years.  A person rarely has a single image, so the sentence can be astronomical.  But a perpetrator engaged in inappropriate relations might  sleeps with "only" one victim, which results in one count of the offense that falls under the same sentencing parameters.

Furthermore, upon my release I will be on lifetime probation and be registered as a sex offender, both of which carry an incredible range of restrictions on what I can and can't do.  No other class of felonies, including murder, drug dealing, armed robbery, assault or even multiple violent offenses carries such far reaching restrictions.  Don't get me wrong, I certainly acknowledge the importance of protecting society and especially children.  There are people who really should be kept away from society, both sex offenders and other offenders, but here in this prison, which houses most of Arizona's  sex offenders,  those extreme cases  are truly the minority

My Story

September 24, 2012

I think a brief overview of how I got here is in order at this point.  What led to this terrible predicament and this devastatingly dangerous fascination?  Allow me to give a simplified version of the facts.

I've always had a fascination with, and I can now say an addiction to, pornography in general.  Since I first discovered my dad's "stash" of Playboy and Penthouse magazines, I was hooked.  The extent and nature of my porn consumption varied greatly with my environment and availability of materials. 

I got married around 1993 and spent about 10 years with my now ex-wife.  We never had the most active sex life, primarily due to her endometriosis, which caused pain with intercourse.  She reluctantly tolerated my use of porn, which eventually became exclusively digital as that technology was obviously the cheapest and simplest to access.  There was no exposure to, nor interest in, anything under-age or illegal, until I lived in Japan, where I developed a bit of a fetish for the "schoolgirl" uniforms and scenarios that are so common there.

My ex-wife and I eventually had two children, a girl and then a boy, and got divorced a year after the birth of our son, in 2004.  The divorce was tough on me, and kind of ugly.  I retreated further into a world of internet porn, having little desire to "make the effort" or to trust living, breathing women. I had a considerable lack of self-confidence.  I went through all types of "genres" of porn, eventually getting bored with one after another.  Eventually, searches for "schoolgirl" themed porn returned images of actual schoolgirls.  The ages of these girls range from 10 to 40.  It was new to me, and admittedly exciting.  I downloaded folder upon folder of free images -- without looking at them first.  It was easier and faster to download, then look at them later.  The vast majority of these images were clothed, or mostly clothed, and were not illegal, though I am still embarrassed by my lack of restraint.  Occasionally, the images were illegal, and some of the models were very young.  When  I found images involving men abusing young girls, I was repulsed and quit downloading content.  But due to stupidity and laziness, I did not delete these images, and I continued to look at the other content that still excited me.

Then, about six years after my divorce, I fell helplessly, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with Jessica (not her real name).  She was the sister of my best friend, I had met her several years before we got together, when she was passing through town visiting her brother.  My attraction was immediate then, but the timing and circumstances were not right.  Later, on a vacation to Central America to visit her with her brother, she was living on a beautiful tropical island, we hooked up and I fell in love.

I fell hard and fast, though she was a bit more tentative.  We corresponded regularly after the trip and I visited again a few months later.  It was magical, beautiful, and intense.  We shared our hidden secrets and tragic flaws.

She had been in some bad relationships and had been raped as a teen.  I revealed my attraction to schoolgirl fantasies, though I withheld the extent of that interest.  I feared losing her.  After months of even more intense communication, she came to Arizona and moved in with me.  The fairy tale relationship developed astronomically fast, we were engaged and she was pregnant in less than two months.  My interest in porn was gone.  I was so in love and so committed.  I deleted all of my child porn before she moved in, but copies of it all remained on my backup drive.  (I've already admitted to my idiocy!)

As the pregnancy advanced, her libido decreased and I started looking at porn again (legal only!).  There was a little episode where she was upset about this, but acknowledged her lack of interest in sex and agreed that this was a viable alternative.

She asked to use my backup drive for some of her stuff, and I realized I had to wipe it clean.  I was looking through my drive that the images I needed to delete and I thought I had begun the process.  Apparently I hadn't, and Jess stumbled upon them.  Needless to say, it wasn't pretty.  She wouldn't speak to me and she left the next morning on a trip with a friend.  She took the computer and the hard drive with her.  I haven't seen her since.

I tried to explain, I sent emails, I tried to call, I wrote letters (once I found out where she was), but she would not talk to me.  She had promised, once, that we would always communicate our problems.  She lied.  A few weeks later I was contacted by the police regarding "an incident".  I got a lawyer, completely flabbergasted that she had gone to the police. 

Two months later, after my home was searched and a warrant issued, I turned myself in, spent a few days in jail, and was released on bail.  Jessica and I resumed communication for the months I was out on bail.  She circumnavigated my big questions, but admitted hope that I would have a place in our child's life.  She promised answers to my questions "when this was all over".  I still don't know what that means.  She had turned over the computer, the drive, as well as all my communications to her, which included admission, explanations , and apologies, asking to hear me out. 

I signed a plea agreement, expecting the minimum five years and a term of probation.  I got 7 1/2 years and life probation.  I will likely have to serve 85% of it.  In Arizona, most felons serve 65% of sentences, but sex offenders serve 85%.  All other felons can move " up" to minimum security yards with more freedom.  Not so for sex offenders.  All others can pay their dues and get on with life without lingering restrictions.  Not so with us.

I do not intend to trivialize or minimize my mistakes, but I also believe that "system" is neither just, nor organized to assist in rehabilitation.  That being said, I have and continue to attempt to better myself mentally, spiritually, and physically while I pass this time.  I've become more involved in Buddhist study, though I do not exclude any ideas that help in my development.  I'm taking on the 12 steps of addiction as a framework for healing and understanding my actions.  I practice yoga, meditation, I work out, and I read and write voraciously.

There are still many unanswered questions in my mind, the majority dealing with Jess and how and why she did what she did.  I realize how upset, confused, and scared she must've been, but I naively thought that part of love was working through problems.  It seems there were better ways to deal with the situation, and communication should have played a role.  I feel very betrayed, and so very sorry I hurt her, though it was never about or against her.

I have hurt and upset so many people, and most of all my beautiful kids who I was, and continued to attempt to be, so very close to.  I'm so sad when I think of my new baby boy, who I write to regularly.  I haven't heard a word from Jess since I left county jail for state prison almost a year ago.

First Post

September 24, 2012

I write this from a state prison in Arizona where I am nearly a year into a 7 1/2 year sentence.  I am posting this for several reasons:  first as a way to transcend the physical boundaries of my confinement, second as an attempt to foster awareness and understanding of the realities of the " justice system", third so that perhaps others might avoid the trials and tribulations that I continue to undergo on a daily basis, and lastly, to feel that I have a voice and a place in this world.

My story  is not pretty, nor am I particularly proud of some aspects of it.  It is not something that is easy to talk about, nor easy to read.  My chronicles, as well as my reflections, will be presented honestly and without bias, as much as is possible by an ego-attached human being, like myself.

I ask that anyone reading these words does so with an open mind and with an attempt for compassion toward an imperfect fellow human being.  I realize that this is difficult with such a sensitive and taboo subject, but I ask you to suspend your prejudices and preconceived notions when considering my words.

I've had a rather interesting and exciting life, having spent many years traveling and working my way about the globe.  I'm a loving and devoted father, and it I dedicated my heart and soul to my career as a teacher, with the intent to not only educate, but to stimulate critical an independent thinking amongst my students.

With this blog I hope to create dialogue, express my thoughts and observations, and help anyone who might be in any sort of remotely similar situation.  I want to thank my dear friend for suggesting and assistance in this endeavor.  I have no computer access so posting and responses will take some time.  I am not in an "instant access" environment!  I welcome and appreciate thoughts, feedback, and questions, but be patient please.  Thank you.