This is year three in prison. Cook Unit is a low medium yard.
By the time I got to Cook Unit I was divorced. Not only was I divorced but my ex wife began to put the screws to me. Every phone call home to talk to my daughter became infuriating and intolerable. I had to hear about what a great guy her new boyfriend was. He worked for his dad and was overpaid for the little work he did according to my ex. According to her he made lots of money, owned a home and stood to inherit lots of money. (very important to her) . She praised the new boyfriend and declared him to be such a
“wonderful father to Brittany”
She became vicious with her words. Everything said on the phone was meant to tear the flesh off. It did. She wanted to be hateful and she was. It got worse from phone call to phone call. I was in a state of mind thinking I deserved it. All of it. Why? Because I failed.
Part of this didn’t add up. I’ve always believed miserable
people spread misery and happy people spread happiness. She just fell in love.
Now she is living with the man of her dreams (according to her). If she was in
such a blissful place in life why was she unleashing such torment on me during
my phone calls home ?
It was starting to get to me. The evil and hatred coming at me from every conceivable direction. The inmates were all miserable. The guards were miserable. The administration was miserable. The civilian kitchen workers were miserable. Prison feeling like hell on earth had been a daily feeling up to that point. It’s hell. Some days more hellish than other days.
The landscape alone was barren of life.
My ex was pushing me closer and closer to that proverbial edge. I began to feel as if I was in a losing battle against hatred and evil. Nothing like the summer heat of the desert to burn in all the little nuances of this shit filled experience. I was on overload. I felt myself drowning. I was drowning in a sea of hatred and evil. It was one call home too many. More of her talk about how her new boyfriend being
“The best father possible to Brittany”
I’d been treading water up to that point. From time to time I’d slip down under the surface of the water. Then I’d fight like hell and pop back up again. Gasping and gulping down mouthfuls of air before being sucked back under again by the next hellish event.
Even though Obi wan kanobi was there in the background telling
me:
“Don’t give in to the dark side”
I did give in. I’m sorry Obi Wan. Hatred now owns my mortal
soul. Hatred, it’s all I could feel. If I could just get within arms reach of
her again. This is my thought. If I could get close enough to get my hands on
her. That’s my new prayer. If I could get close enough, this is my new wish.
This is my new thought and thinking. Please let me get within arms reach of her
again. One more time before I die. I’m going to choke the life right out of
her.
This was the last thought I had before bed every night. The first thought I had every morning. I thought about it before breakfast, during breakfast, after breakfast. I thought about it before lunch. During lunch and after lunch…..choking the life out of my ex-wife became my single minded obsession.
I felt like everyone else now. We’re all in Hell together.
That did not last long. As soon as I felt this true “oneness” with hatred I flipped out. I had a full blown anxiety attack, panic attack or whatever attack. My terror level was off the charts. I did not know what to do. I had no idea how to fix this. How am I supposed to go back in time and unthink all those hateful thoughts and wishes?
I do not know.
What have I done?
There’s no one I can turn to. Even if I was a free man I
would not know who to turn to in a time like this.
I want nothing to do with the dark side. I find nothing but terror in thinking I might have done something metaphysically to harm myself. I’m trapped in a world of hate. What am I supposed to do now?
All I can come up with is a mantra:
“Love is the answer”
Maybe this will work.
“Love is the answer”
It’s the last thing I say to myself at night. It’s the first thing I say to myself in the morning. I say it to myself on the way to breakfast, during breakfast and after breakfast. This evolves into a single minded focus of attention:
“Love is the answer”
Days passed. They turned into weeks. Then months. Little by little I got better. It may sound crazy but I believe that mantra helped.
“Love is the answer”
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