The
ideology of the idealistic…I find myself sitting in an empty house, on the
verge of tears. My mind is spinning. I am sad, I am angry. I try so hard to figure out what’s
missing. I think it is hope. I have given up on the dream for a better
life. I may have been looking in the
wrong place. I’ve had this recurring
vision of being cold, of a window and rainy gray skies. I realize today it is overcast, with a cold
steady rain, the kind that you can’t really see the rain falling, but if you
step outside you are immediately soaked and cold. As I sat down to write this, I realized that
I am in fact cold.
I’m going to be 35 in less than
two weeks. I think of myself as already
there. I think it’s my way of getting it
over with. I’m 35 years old, and yet I’m
no older than I was at 16, or 19. I have
gotten nowhere. I’m still working entry
level retail. I still just stopped
attending college. I still probably failed
out. Somewhere in this abstract world, I
have two children. Somewhere once upon a
time I had a house and a mortgage.
Somewhere I had benefits, paid the bills, and yet still struggled. Yet here I am back at square one. I’m angry, dissatisfied, lonely and
depressed. The emotional problems I had
as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult…they are all still there. I’m still on the fringe. Yet I’m adaptive. I have learned to fake most of the feelings
and actions of the people around me. I
can walk onto a job, and believe me I’ve worked in a lot of them. I learn what’s expected of me, infer what’s
hoped for from me, and quickly set myself apart as one of the better
workers. Not always the best, but always
as a reliable, intelligent, and competent employee. This lasts for a while. I’m not sure what factors influence whether
it’s a year or five. However eventually,
it begins to fall apart. The cracks
show. I become unstable. My dissatisfaction, and disbelief in what
working hard gets me, makes it all seem hollow and fake.
I have always had a dream…of a
place of peace and solitude. A structure
I build. Don’t misinterpret this isn’t
the earthen mound of a crazy hermit. I’ve
built, I’ve studied architecture independently, I understand basic structural
design. The space I build will be a
unique handcrafted quality built refuge.
Not big, but amazing, and beautiful…I will finally have a tower. Some trees, few to no neighbors, my mind
reminds me of social and interpersonal expectations and I see the people I need
to include in my dream as add-ons to my dream, and then it’s no longer
mine. I know I’m not ok. I know that I am not functional when measured
against my peers. However I have interacted
with my peers a lot. I have spoken
deeply and passionately with many of them.
I have learned the things that make them tick.
I see myself as a central figure
in most systems I find myself in. Now I
sometimes wonder if that isn’t a trick of my perception, or if I really am a
dynamic personality. Then again, I’ve
somewhat just admitted that a lot of that personality is fake. However could it be said that most people’s
personalities are fake?
Every where that I look there
are bills that I cannot pay. I owe the
IRS, fines in 2 states, 2 banks, 2 credit cards, a repossessed car loan, over
20,000 in student loans, 1100 in a medical bill, 3000 in back child support that I’m paying
back at the rate of 11 dollars a week. I
make about 575 dollars every two weeks right now after taxes. Child support takes 222 dollars off the top
of that leaving me with about 350 dollars.
My rent is 200, my gas to get to work is about 50 every two weeks…this
leaves me with about 100 dollars to feed myself, pay my car insurance, pay for
a cell phone, and chip away at the mountain of previous debt, this is
hopelessly illogical.
It seems like yesterday,
although it’s been a year, that I was making good money, that I had benefits,
that ultimately I was proud of my job.
Now I’m lost, and adrift. I blame
certain external factors for my predicament.
That being said I DO realize the part I played in ending up where I
am. However the sheer lopsided brutality
of how I got here could not have been done to me without other people’s willful
attempt to subdue me. So I helped bring
myself here, and for that I will have to dig myself out of my hole. However other people did bear significant malice
towards me, and in the pursuit of that malice did induce harsh and unnecessary
penalties upon me, which ultimately taxed my ability to cope and deal, and
combined with the brutality of being imprisoned for 30 days for being poor cost
me a job that I was barely holding onto from stress and confusion.
They called it ‘Civil Contempt’. If I couldn’t find 2500 dollars to give to my
ex wife’s attorney I would spend 30 days in jail. I didn’t have any money. I had been paying 250 a week in child
support, based on overtime, then not been able to get said overtime
regularly. So I went from working as a
guard in a jail to being an inmate. I
woke up on a metal bunk sleeping on a vinyl and cotton mattress, with one wool
blanket to keep me warm, and one rolled into a pillow, every morning for 30
days. I ate breakfast with guys I
recognized from having stayed at the jail I worked at. Because I was a guard they offered me
protective custody…I refused it. The
reason I gave was that the rapists and child molesters are in protective
custody and if given the chance I would hurt one of them. That’s not a wholly accurate reason. In all actuality a mixture of pride, rage,
and indifference dictated that choice. I
was angry and I’m not a pussy, and if I got hurt or killed at least I would do
it on my feet.
The first few days I was
convinced I could convince my ex to drop the contempt charge. I entered jail on a Friday February 26th, I
had given up on that dream by Tuesday. I
think it was Saturday that the Internal Affairs guy came to visit me and had me
sign for my ‘being investigated for code of conduct violations’ packet. It was March 7th, when a Captain
came to visit me, brought me into the jail captain’s office…I didn’t get visits
like a normal inmate, because at that point I still really wasn’t…not
entirely. I was given my termination packet. They didn’t need the IA, being unable to
report to work for 30 days and not having 30 days of time off to take was more
than enough to terminate me cleanly. I
shook Captain Butt’s hand and told him I was proud to have worked with
him. I went back to my cell and let it
sink in. I worked out in my cell and
jogged in place a lot. One kid waiting
for transport upstate to serve his 6 to 10 year sentence threatened me when my
door closed loudly. I told him “I’ll
twist you up like a pretzel and break your fucking neck.” Then I made my
evening phone call and left my cell door open for about 45 minutes to show that
I was inviting him in. He never did come
in. Then an inmate recognized and outed
me as a former guard. I was honest and
let my story be told. No one threatened
me.
I got out at the end of March
2011. It is now May 22nd
2012. Security is nowhere to be
seen. Really all I want is space and
Respect. However all I have to offer is
Rage, hurt, confusion, dissatisfaction, and lingering animosity. They called it Civil Contempt. If they thought I had contempt before, then
there aren’t words strong enough to describe what I feel for the system right
now. Mostly I mourn for it…I used to
believe in the system, but after what I went through trying to live in it…I
realize it’s corrupt and fucked…It’s already dead, there’s nothing left of the
ideals the founding fathers, tried to instill in it. The average citizen, those the system was
designed to protect has no say in it anymore…it’s been made too expensive for
them to properly utilize because without an expensive lawyer the system will
eat you alive, and most of the country can’t afford a lawyer.
My name is Pete. I’m (almost) 35 years old. I feel robbed of the dreams I was sold on as
a child. I’ve tried working hard, I’ve
tried being a soldier, a citizen, a protector...what I find is that I’m a cast
off and I don’t belong. So if there is
no way for me to live in this world what should I do now?
