TODAY. . . A Day in the Life of Serving Life by A.J. Rasmussen
TODAY. . . I haven't written for a while, many days it is just hard enough to crawl out of bed to eat, so to write, that's a chore on a whole different level. Even as I write now, I lay in bed. I've spent much of today in this bed, which leaves me at the day's end feeling unaccomplished, which only feeds the depression further.
TODAY. . . It hasn't been one of my better days. I went to see the psychiatrist and we discussed my mood swings, among other things. He told me there are two things people incarcerated often deal with. 1.) Depression 2.) Anxiety. Yep, and yep, one and two for me please. He continued further to tell me that it is understandable for someone with Crohns Disease, and a person missing part of his intestines, to battle both depression and anxiety. Furthermore, he said, you have Neuropathy, you are messed up in the vitamin level department, you take a truckload of pills, and you have the reality of life in prison. I don't know if this conversation was a relief to be told there is good reason to battle mentally and emotionally, or confirmation of just how screwed up I am, and how much I have affected not only my life, but the lives of so many others as well?
TODAY. . . Today is all I can handle. It's all any of us should focus on, because yesterday is gone, and tomorrow isn't even promised. I've heard so much during my life, but it is so much easier to say and hear than to do. Yesterday is why I am where I am, and tomorrow is not brighter than today. I've heard that the Washington State Supreme court ruled that the death penalty is unconstitutional. How about the other death penalty, the one I am serving? It is a death penalty by default, because I am stuck here until the day I die. I often find myself hoping I have the male jeans in my family, as both of my grandfathers died around the age of 70. The women, they like to live into their hundreds. If I must spend my remaining years in here, I ask the Lord to give me the men's genes, please! Chances are, my mom will live longer than me if she carries the woman jean, and me, the men's jean.
TODAY. . . I battle hardcore with emotional codependency, and my happiness only seems to come when I am spending time with certain people. That is how my life has been at least back to my pre-teens. The Bible calls that idolatry, when we place anything or anyone between us and Him. And that's cool and all, I get that's what it is called, but it is much easier to attach to a person you see who cares about you, than a being you don't feel connected to, especially when He carries the name Father. Sure, I enjoy the creation of the creator, and there is no doubt in my mind who created it all, but I can't help feeling lonely in this place. Some moments I feel actual pain in my gut and chest, a pain that turns to anxiety, and eventual added depression. Loneliness hurts!
TODAY. . . I try to find positive things to keep me busy, and my mind occupied, but sometimes it is a project that defeats me. I have two books to write, which I've made progress on in the past. I have two books I'm working through to better myself, but pushing myself to open those books, is often a chore I can't manage to accomplish. In fact, the only time I feel relaxed, and useful is when I am working to help other people to succeed, and not return here like I did. That is the one thing that I excel at, and that makes the anxiety, depression, loneliness, and lack of hope and purpose disappear, even if only temporarily. Sometimes though, I find myself loving on people with the hope I will be loved back in return, and often my unrealistic expectations aren't met, and I am back to an aching heart, and a knot in my stomach, which tends to lead me to self-destruction, and pushing the people who care most, away from me. Maybe a result of feeling unlovable because of my past, and the hordes of family and friends who abandoned me when I was arrested again. It makes it difficult to feel you have the ability to truly be loved because of so much hate.
TODAY. . . I wish life was like childhood, where you can have family and friends over for your birthday party, and when that cake comes you make a wish and blow out those candles with the expectation that wish will be granted, and often it seems it is. I don't know what happens when we become adults, but imagination seems to leave. Fantasy becomes reality. And, hopes and wishes become nightmares and pain. Just when you think you can't take anymore, you then remember how your actions have negatively impacted everyone you've ever loved, and your own father or brother want nothing to do with you.
TODAY. . . I wish I could have a do over. I wished I could go back to my childhood years when I cried, as I wished I had a father at my house like all my family and friends did. I wished I could change my focus, looking instead at all I did have, so much more than most I've met in this place. I was surrounded by love, and had pretty much whatever I needed, and much of what I wanted. Not that I didn't have to work for it from a young age, but regardless, I had it. I wished I could go back to when I was nine years old, and the older neighbor boy took my innocence, leaving me with a secret and mass confusion, and nobody to talk to about it. I wished I could go back to my teens, when an older adult coworker had me and friends over, bought us alcohol, and when I passed out at his home, he began to take advantage of me. And if that wasn't enough, he then stalked me for a while after.
TODAY. . . I wished I could undo the harm I caused. I wished I could give back the innocence I took from people I cared deeply for, but in my messed-up thinking, thought that sex equaled love. I wished I could go back and live my childhood openly gay, and not feel forced into living a life of secrecy which played a large role in the trouble I put myself in.