Once upon a time on this very day in January, January 6, 1993 a fleeting thirty years passed, I was released from state custody and ordered to fulfill ALL the terms of my ISP or else. The else being sent back to lockup for an indeterminate number of years. I was absolutely dead set against not fulfilling the terms of my release from lockup and subsequent ISP. ISP is by way of definition, 'intensive supervised probation'. Or 'parole' and there's really not much difference. You see, I am an addict. I have now thirty years clean and January 6th is my anniversary date. Addicts often use release dates as the benchmark for celebrating being clean. Sober. Coherent. Very much aware of the consequences for failing to remain clean. Sober. Coherent. I got so bad in my addiction that I was flagrantly violating state and in some instances, federal law. So the State of Utah intervened in my chaotic lifestyle and graciously put me in custody OR to use the terms of one very annoyed state judge, "we're going to warehouse you for a time as yet be determined." And I was 'warehoused' and left to contemplate what a comprehensive asshole I had become. You can trust me on this quaint slice of reality, you do NOT want to detox while in custody. An addiction to cocaine and heroin requires a considerable amount of time for your body to rid itself of all the dang nasty toxins you inject into the human bio-machine. Back 30 years ago, jail/prison guards could care less about your physical condition. Periodically, the incarceration minions would come around to take your blood pressure and that would be about the extent of care and concern for your junkie ass. I swore and made a blood oath to the heavens that I would never again subject myself to a situation like I'd gotten myself into. Thirty years later and after I did my time, paid all my fines, restitution, and a rather lengthy time with a forensic psychiatrist, I'm a trustworthy (?) citizen. Sure, trustworthy. When folks learn about a felonious history, you rarely get or deserve much trust. Nonetheless, I am here and much better for this black episode in my existence. Thirty years. I celebrate just a wee bit for being thirty years clean. Oh yeah. My retelling of history is very much true and is all right there for the seeing in State of Utah records. In the least, I am a part of State of Utah history. Big whoop. Now for Friday machine art.
poster -
falls -
hills -
byzantine -
wheel of time -
I am not proud of being imprisoned. I am proud of having made it this far in life without so much as a jaywalk nor a dang criminal or junkie recidivism streak. however, time does not necessarily heal all wounds. 👮
No comments:
Post a Comment