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.
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