Giving Thanks

The vast majority of my writing and thoughts tends to be on the negative side. Given my current life circumstances, I reckon that is both understandable and forgivable. Yet it really serves no constructive purpose and certainly does not change my situation.

In honor of the season of giving thanks, I would like to look on the bright side for a change, and count my blessings. This may be a short essay. OK, here goes... The end.

Just kidding, I do have things that I am thankful for. First and foremost, are my beautiful children. They give me a reason to wake up each morning, and they keep my hope alive in a dark and dreary situation.

I am thankful that they are relatively happy and healthy children. Well, at least two of them are, as far as I know. I do know (from pictures) that my new son is extremely beautiful, but I know nothing about his health, mental state, or his level of contentment in life.

I'm thankful that they are all well loved, by their dad and their moms. I'm thankful that they have a loving parent to fill the void left by my incarceration.

While I certainly do not believe my sentence is fair or appropriate, I'm thankful that it's not worse. I should be out before my oldest graduates from high school.

The conditions here may not exactly be plush, but I'm thankful I have food and a "bed." I'm grateful that I was able to swap my "magazine -thin" mattress for a "phone book -thick" one. It may only be a Fargo, North Dakota area code thickness, but it's better than nothing.

I'm thankful for my health. In fact, my weight is the lowest it's been in some 20 years, and I exercise more than I ever have in my life (with the possible exception of high school football). I'd like to believe that the 6 1/2 years of my life that are lost will be made up on the tail end.

I'm extremely thankful for books -- many times in life I've lamented having such little time to read. That's not a problem I face right now.

I'm thankful that I have seen and experienced so much more of the world and most people have or will in a lifetime. I'm thankful for my education, from school, from family and friends, and from life.

I'm grateful for the support, love, and faith from my family, who still believe in me despite my mistakes. I don't know that I could survive this ordeal without that belief.

I'm thankful for the handful of friends who have not abandoned me. Such an experience as this illustrates the very best (and the worst) of humanity. I'm thankful as well for those in here who give me encouragement and a shoulder to lean on.

It's frequently said, in here and out there, that "it could be worse." It's easy to forget that here, but it's very true. Yet by the process of elimination, there must be at least one person who cannot say that. I'm ever so thankful that this person is not me.

Happy Holidays to all!

Hodgepodge of Thoughts

 There was a racial brawl on the yard the other day. One guy went to the hospital because of it. As a result, we have been locked down in our buildings for the past two days. Even for meals, which have been brought to us.

So, I figured that I'd take the time to jot down to a few passages from my journal/autobiography, which will be available someday, somehow, I hope.

I was listening to an NPR show about the war on drugs and the lack of funds and energy aimed at the rehabilitation of addicts. The situation with sex offenders is even worse, as it's something society has yet to really talk about. The following quote was made: " if a friend came to you and said they had an addiction to alcohol, drugs, sex, or even shopping, would the first thing you do be to call the police? Of course the answer is unequivocally no." Yet this is what the woman who supposedly loved me did. With no effort to talk about it, to understand it, or to work through it. Therein lies the primary source of my utter confusion, frustration, despair, and sense of betrayal.

That the "justice" system of this country makes no attempts to understand, aid, or dispense real justice comes as little surprise. That the woman I love did the same is much harder to handle.

It dawned on me that here in the prison culture, the only thing more reprehensible than a sex offender is a snitch. But this thought brings me no consolation, no solace, and does nothing to change my fate nor help me understand things.

On a different topic, I read this in a book: "... Someday soon a woman will truly love you. Whether... you and she lived together all your lives or that you not be united until a long time after your first meeting, you will grow older and so will she. I cannot predict whether you will grow feeble and bent, or gross, or bald, or ugly, but it will not matter. This I can say with certainty: she will see you always as you were when you met. To the end of your days. Or hers."

To me, that means with true love one will see past the blemishes, imperfections, and impurities to recognize the beauty within. Perhaps I don't deserve that, perhaps my transgressions are too much to overlook or to attempt to work through, but I do know with certainty that I would do anything for Jess. I'd have worked with her as much as I could. Even now, I tend to focus on the beauty, strength, and spirit that she possesses. I cannot ignore what happened - what she did to me, what I did to her, what I did to me, and how much it hurt. Nor am I foolish enough to believe that love needs to be reciprocal, I think most of us have found out that this is rarely the case. I did, however, foolishly think that I really had found that so very elusive, so very rare scenario that might lead to a "happily ever after." Now I have little faith that such a thing exists outside of storybooks.

Maybe... Just maybe... I'm completely full of shit.

Incarceration Inequality

I had a discussion with another inmate recently. We were talking about how inmates on minimum security yards are able to work on the "outside" for minimum wage. This is around 15 times more per hour than we can possibly earn on this medium security yard.

Sex offenders (SOs) can never move "up" in security clearance regardless of crime, or behavior while incarcerated. Yet, the vast majority of those here are convicted of non-violent crimes, and many, like myself, have "non contact" charges as well.

Many correctional officers have admitted to me that the SO yards are far less violent than the general population (GP) yards. The Arizona Dept. of Corrections will periodically switch the designations of yards, and swap inmates around so that the SO's can "clean up" the messes left behind by the GPs.

So how is it that the "system" recognizes this on the one hand, yet continues to subdue this class of felons on the other?

I think about how, had I stabbed, robbed, or beaten someone, I'd be able to provide more for my kids, ex wife, and ex-fiancé than I can at present. It's sad that the families of SOs are subject to the similar inequalities and persecutions as the inmates themselves.

Of course it can be said that I should have considered that before downloading illegal porn. That I did not realize the inequities of the correctional system is a paltry excuse, and I regret that decision every moment of everyday. But is that any less true for someone who decides to knock off a liquor store? The kids and families are no less innocent, or no less important in either situation, yet the consequences for them are quite different.

The inconsistencies and inequalities seem to be capricious and unfounded. These topics need consideration, research, awareness, and publicity.

The Slippery Slope of Porn

Never in my wildest dreams or nightmares did I think I'd be locked up in prison, labeled a sex offender with a lifetime probation. Yet here I sit. I'd like to share some of the facets of my situation in the hopes of preventing others from a similar fate.

When I took a polygraph test, as part of my psycho - sexual evaluation, the examiner outlined my story or "scenario" with amazing precision before I ever said a word about it. So it seems that my "decent into debauchery" is not so very uncommon.

I've had a powerful attraction to pornography all of my life, since finding my dad's "stash" as a kid. As I grew up, I would occasionally go to adult bookstores to look at videos and would sometimes trade porn videos with friends. It was never an overwhelming obsession, perhaps because it was not readily accessible.

The Internet really changed that. In a relatively limited sexual marriage, I would find myself spending more and more time on the computer. I read erotic stories, found pictures and videos, and went on nude "chat" sites. My then- wife was aware of this and really only objected strongly when I began to pay for such sites.

After my divorce, the frequency escalated dramatically. I had no one "looking over my shoulder" so to speak. I might spend an hour or two a day on computer porn. Eventually, "standard" stuff became boring, so I would find kinkier content. Some was a turn on, some not, but all eventually became uninteresting. I inadvertently (really and truly) stumbled upon younger content while searching for "schoolgirl" themed porn, with adults posing as schoolgirls. I was intrigued and attracted and began looking for more. I was not intentionally looking for illegal, or very young images, but when I turned to newsgroups for free content and found an image that was appealing, I would download an entire directory, unseen. Some of what I found was extremely inappropriate and illegal. Even if it wasn't a turn on, I never bothered to delete it. There was an attraction to the forbidden nature of it. A collection grew over time. I would look through the images, some enticing, and many not, but I kept them all.

I always "mixed it up" in terms of porn content, I was never fixated on "young stuff", but it was part of my pattern. Eventually, I grew bored with this as well. I also found erotic "taboo" stories (incest and school girl themes) to be exciting, but had no interest in acting on such ideas. Again, it was the taboo that excited me. Eventually, I stopped downloading such content, but kept them "just in case."

I had no interest in "cyber stalking" or to seduce or be with any kids at all, ever, but in a fantasy, anything can happen!

When I fell in love with Jess, my interest in all of that ceased. I deleted my entire hard drive, yet much of it had already been backed up on an external drive. After she moved in with me I realized I had to delete that too. In this effort I was looking through the images, some never seen, most unseen in years. There was still an attraction, more like the feeling of saying goodbye to an old friend, but well.... That's when my secret was discovered.

She left with no real discussion on this topic. I sent her an apology and a confession, and urged her not to overreact. In my mind, that meant not breaking things off. I never even considered police involvement, yet the letters, computer, and hard drive were all turned over to the police. In retrospect I suppose I was rather naive!

So now, I'm trying to better understand what led to this. I began seeing a therapist even before I knew of any police involvement. Primarily, this was to deal with my intense heartbreak, but also to help identify my actions. I discussed it with the psycho-sexual evaluator, and I've since attended sexaholics anonymous meetings in prison. I've read what I could on sex addiction and have spent countless hours meditating on the subject.

I cannot identify a primary cause. I've read that childhood abuse is often a factor, though that never happened that I recall. Through my work, I've had many insights to potential factors and I'd like to summarize these. Perhaps it will help others who might have a problem.

With my initial therapist, through a process called EMDR, I made a connection of equating kissing and cuddling with cousins and friends (when I was very young) to a sense of security and "escape" from feelings of abandonment. This may be significant in light of the fact that this problem developed just after a divorce.

My psycho-sexual evaluator are suggested that my "child brain" was not actively linked to my conscience or "adult" brain. He used clinical terms as well, but I don't remember them and don't want to use them incorrectly. Basically, the child part of the brain associates with pleasure, with no reference to time, age, or morality. There's no segregation as to the cause of pleasure. And it was identifying past experiences with pleasure.

In my own process of introspection, I recalled a young girl on my paper route flashing her privates and asking to see my "weenie." I lost my virginity in strange circumstances at 15 or so. Two "older women" (maybe early twenties?) invited me to their hotel room and got me high for my first time ever. One of them seduced me while the other was on the other bed. It was not really a pleasant experience, but I was certainly not forced to participate.

I've always had a lack of self confidence with women, due to being overweight most of my life. I'm sure this is a contributor to my seeking satisfaction through pornography. After my divorce, this was exaggerated, as well as my being angry and mistrustful of women in general. Perhaps there was an attraction to the "honesty" or "innocence" of younger girls (though I know that in reality kids are often dishonest and not quite innocent!).

Also, as previously mentioned, I've had a rebellious nature. Not only in sexually related matters, but in life in general. Drinking and drugs were a part of my life and I've had a pronounced disregard for "the law".

I sometimes wonder if the fact that as a teacher and parent I spent the majority of my waking hours with kids had a subconscious influence on my psyche. Though I did have an attraction to schoolgirl themed porn in Japan, before all this happened.

My father had an attraction to porn, as well as difficulty with monogamy. This has made me wonder if there is any genetic disposition toward sexual "deviance". Some have suggested the possibility of karmic influences from previous lives as a possible contributing factor. Though I have some trouble with that idea, I do not discount it completely.

The point is, I don't know why. I'm sure that it's a combination of all these and more. I know it would never have escalated beyond "fantasy" and I know it's behind me. While I may never understand why, I must continue to be aware of thoughts and feelings, and continue to grow and heal.

I struggle with the question: "Am I a pedophile?" I've read varying definitions of the term. "A person who has sexual relations with children." That's not me. "A predominant sexual attraction for children." For me, it was never predominant. I was always only interested in age appropriate relationships. But, "an attraction toward young (women)" -- yes, I admit that is true. I know that "labels" are relatively meaningless, but I must come to terms with this.

Through sharing this blog, I hope that maybe someone in a remotely similar mental state might avoid the devastation I'm going through. If you're having any thoughts of looking at anything illegal...DON'T. If you have already, delete it! If you think you might have any tendency toward anything like this, seek help!

But herein lies another problem. A counselor, therapist, psychologist, or psychiatrist is required by law to inform authorities if a crime is revealed to them. This obviously would prevent people from actually seeking help, or from being honest about such things. But of course, there is public opinion on such topics, also contributing to a "bottling up" of thoughts and feelings.

In fact, my therapist turned evidence on me over to the police, but only after receiving a letter from Jess and knowing there was police involvement. A mutual friend, while trying to help, had revealed my therapist to Jess in hopes of aiding my therapy. In spite of my therapists' assurances of nondisclosure, she passed information to the police.

This obviously poses a barrier to seeking real assistance in dealing with a potential problem. This and public abhorrence forces people to hide and conceal things, which I believe is not altogether healthy.

In retrospect, while I know I would never have acted on my attractions, I also recognize that countless females (and males) of all ages have undergone unspeakable atrocities due to the sex trade. Any contribution to this system, intentional or otherwise, is wrong. It's so very easy to disconnect electronic sequences of binary code to living, breathing humans. But that is a huge mistake. We must be aware of, and responsible for the implications of our thoughts, impulses and actions, and we must act accordingly.

Struggling To Accept "What Is"

I am obviously still struggling with the acceptance of my situation. The other night, I saw a news report on a woman who was released from county jail for some silly driving offense. That same day, she left her six year old daughter alone in a McDonald's while she went to do "something". When she returned, she was arrested for abandonment. This woman had previous charges for child abuse. The reporter said she could face weeks or months in jail..

And here I sit, for 7 1/2 years for a crime that did not directly harm or endanger anyone. Here I am, with lifetime probation, and lifelong registration as a sex offender.

I am not innocent of the charges, yet I cannot escape the thoughts that I am far less dangerous to society than this woman who has repeatedly endangered her own children.

I realize I do not know the whole story, and I know firsthand, all too well, how the media is not always accurate. But something is just not right about it.

I know, I know... Life is not fair. I realize I messed up. I also know that I am absolutely incapable of harming my, or any kids, in any way whatsoever. Of course, others may not know or believe that, but any investigation into my life's history would corroborate that assertion.

It seems ironic, to say the least, that while I am labeled a sex offender for life, that I feel as though I'm the one who has been screwed; by Jess, by the media, by societal preconceptions, and especially by the state of Arizona.

Is this, however, just more mental manipulation to victimize myself? To avoid responsibility for my actions? To blame others rather than myself? Perhaps so, yet I never claimed innocence for my actions. It happened. I know that I am responsible. Is this an attempt to minimize the severity, or is there validity in my assertions?

I know that there is really no true black and white on this or nearly any topic -- just muddled shades of gray. I do feel terrible about it and how it hurt Jess, my family, my students, the unknown victims of abuse, and especially my kids.

I think, however, about some of the various concepts I am learning. We are responsible for, and can only control, our own reactions to external phenomena. So did my mistakes directly hurt Jess, or did she chopse her reactions to the stimuli she discovered? I'm so sorry that it happen, yet her reactions were, in fact, her own.

Yet those reactions landed me in prison. I had no control over that process, though it was ultimately my own karma, coming back to haunt me.

Who are the ultimate victims? What are the direct causes? The indirect causes? Does it matter that my actions occurred in the past? Before and independent of Jess? Does it matter that I was moving past them? It certainly does not change the reality of where I am now, but these thoughts, questions and feelings keep circulating through my very imperfect ego -clinging mind.

Permanent Probation

I recently read a science fiction novel where there was a class (or caste) of society called "permanent probationers" (PPs). That status is determined by psychological tests that deem them to be potentially dangerous to society. They therefore have significant restrictions on movement, employment, and residency.

This is exactly what is happening to the majority of sex offenders in this country. Arizona typically includes lifetime probation as a sentence in these cases, in addition to the lifetime sex offender registration prevalent in most states. There is little to no consideration of the actual offense, whether there was actual sexual contact, whether there was violence, or consent, or even the age of the perpetrator.

Ironically however, as opposed to the science fiction scenario, I underwent a psychological exam which indicated that I was highly unlikely to act out on my attraction or to re-offend. I have no idea how such things can be determined mathematically, but the profile assessed a 0.05% chance of re offending or acting out. Yet I was given lifetime probation.

I do not believe that this lifetime probation is being assigned to any other class of felons. I have heard that it was challenged in the courts as being unconstitutional, as " cruel and unusual punishment" but was upheld by the Federal courts because each state has the right to administer its own penalties. So much for the "supreme law of the land." Of course we have seen constitutional violations becoming commonplace in many areas of society in recent years.

An obvious question to me is how bad do things have to get before they get better? Everything passes through cycles. Time and place seem to be a random determinant of circumstances. Had I been born in another time or place, with the same charges, I would not be facing the same penalties or persecutions. Of course, I could have been a slave, or worse. I think about how in another phase of my life, these factors worked to my benefit. The fact that I was able to travel the world, and to make good money merely for being able to speak the language I learned from birth, always struck me as an incredible stroke of fortune, based also on time and place.

So perhaps what goes around comes around. I find it, though, an interesting anomaly that morality, legality, opportunity, and even spirituality are so influenced and dictated by geography and chronology. I suppose that this is the nature of the cosmos, all is impermanent. Except of course, "permanent probation."

Jeers for tears

 As a convicted felon, and a prison inmate, I'm obviously a bad ass, hardened thug. OK, that may not be entirely true. I have not a single tattoo, and spend several hours a week with my head buried in my pillow, sobbing.

Needless to say, it's not so cool to be caught crying like a baby in prison. I must go to great lengths to conceal my tears and have taken extra long showers just to have a place to cry, uninterrupted.

Since this has all begun some year and a half ago, I must have expelled my body mass in tears several times over. So why am I still here? Shouldn't I have dissolved away by now into a slightly salty puddle of water?

I have lost a significant amount of weight, but I suspect that it's more due to small amounts of crappy food and exercise than to the plethora of tears that I have shed.

And what is the point of crying anyway? I'd like to think that my tears are "cleansing my soul" or purging toxic chemicals or negative emotions from my body. But the truth is I rarely feel any better after having a good cry. This doesn't prevent the tears from coming back again and again.

I think, perhaps, that I may have a future in acting, as the "man crying like a baby," as it's quite easy for me to turn on the water works at will. It's a little harder to turn it off and thus far impossible to prevent it completely.

My brother suggested that there is some value in crying, particularly when crying with someone who loves and supports you. To be fair, there may be some merit there, I actually felt better after crying in his presence.

But there is a significant shortage of "loving" and "supportive" individuals in the "joint," and my tears seem to create little solace.

They seem rather useless and embarrassing. They don't change a damn thing, yet they continue to flow like the Nile through the desert. Perhaps they can be captured to irrigate this parched land in which I am incarcerated. Maybe I can make some money for them. But overall, it seems like a rather pointless endeavor and a useless commodity.