Peace is broken. by Wesley

There are times when the events in our lives happen quite unexpectedly.  Not because we are careless or because we are willfully ignorant, but because sometimes shit just happens.  There are other times when events are as predictable as sunset, yet we are surprised.

If I began an anecdote with:  "I'm playing poker with guys who are members of the bloods, the Aryan circle and the Aryan Brotherhood..." There are endings that are predictable and endings that might surprise you:  I'm playing poker who are members of the Bloods, the Aryan circle, and the Aryan Brotherhood.  There are a smattering of independent violent felons who come and go, but we have a core group of guys who play.  It takes our minds off where we are and it passes the time.

We play tournaments, winner take all.  It is a format we developed over the last couple of weeks and it was working well.  The buy in is a soup and a stamped envelope.  That costs $1.45. 

The games have been highlighted by laughs and camaraderie and general pleasant times since we began. 

Cracks have been developing.  Some I have seen and some I have missed.  I try to keep an eye on events and relationships so that I can avoid trouble.  I have a pretty good track record of predicting events, and I began to feel like I needed to quit playing poker.

It began with the coffee shots the "Aryans" do.  The put 10 or more teaspoons of instant coffee into Dr. Pepper with cinnamon candy and suck it all down.

To this day, I have no idea why these guys do this.  Why would you want to get pumped up on caffeine locked in a small room packed with men?  I just want to go to sleep and wake up in 40 days....pee...and go back to sleep.

Mostly only white guys with little hair and "SS" tattoos do this.

Yesterday, they were pumped on their shots and insults were being hurled around by one of the Aryan Circle guys, who is obviously convinced that he is the smartest guy in the room.  He is constantly insulting people and would probably be beaten up on a daily basis if he weren't a steroid junkie no one will challenge.

He and a small time dope dealer nearly went into a fist fight over the disposition of 15 cents. Yes, the proper allocation of one dime and one nickel nearly had them throwing punches.  I decided it was time for me to quit.

Later, the leader of the Bloods was head to head against one of his underlings.  He decided, when he was short stacked, that he wanted to end it right then and split the winnings.  His underling refused and subsequently won the pot. 

He also won a serious beating for refusing to do what was demanded and share the soup and envelopes.

Then we all were rewarded with a couple of hours of shouting that the beaten man was not really a Blood, was weak, probably gay, and a man with a painful immediate future.  He was called a "bitch ass ho" and a "Ho ass bitch" and many more terrible accusations that I can neither confirm, deny, or accurately translate.

But they must be bad.

In any case, my card playing days are over.  Chess anyone?

Battle of Texas. By Wesley

10/5/2014

For a week it was all the talk.  Everyone in this human zoo exhibit was expected to take sides in the approaching clash.  You supported one or the other.  Black or white, good or evil, there was no neutral. 

The game: Texans vs. Cowboys.  The NFL battle of Texas. 

It's beyond debate that Houston is the superior city in every conceivable way.  Houston is awesome. The museum district, the theater district, the lack of winter, the food scene, the lack of people from Dallas, nevermind The Astros, Rockets and the Mighty Houston Cougars, all are factors in why the city of Houston is awesome!

Also, Dallas blows.  Everything about Dallas blows.  The fact that my ex-wife lives there alone makes me cheer for the Ebola virus.  Don't get me started on the douche bag dudes, the bimbo blonds, The Mavericks, the Texas Rangers, the existence of Fort Worth, the proximity to Oklahoma, and the gall of the city to think they are better than Houston, namesake of the former President of the Republic and hero of the war of Independence.

When it comes to NFL football however, due to  an accident of childhood geography, I am an ardent supporter of the Mighty Dallas Cowboys! I have tried to support the Texans, but I cannot.  I managed to cheer for them in 2013 when Case Keenum (former QB of my Alma Mater) played for them, but when he was gone, so was I.

But Montgomery County is in the Houston area, so in this tank, there were 2 Cowboys fans and 22 people that wanted to kill us.

By game time, there was as much testosterone in here as a monster truck rally.  Insults were hurled, bets made, and the game began.

There was agony, screaming, prayers, threats, promises, rebukes, curses, guarantees, lamentations, and MORE ARE CHAIR QUARTERBACKING than you can imagine (or stomach) before halftime. 

Every single play was analyzed and critiqued by a panel of felons.  Every single man who once played Junior high school football (and had a shot at the pros, except for that damn injury!) explained how they could do it better. 

When the Cowboys won the game in overtime, the crowd fell silent except for one person who loudly reminded everyone that he had told them so! That was me! and damn, I made a killing! I won a coke, M&M's (peanut! I'm naming the 1st one "Cornelius Pumpernickle"), 2 soups, 2 bags of coffee, and 500 push ups which had to be interspersed with exclamations of "Tony Romo did this to me!". 

I'm jail house rich today.  SUCK IT TEXANS!!!!!

My exhausted week. by Lesa

10/8/2014

I have neglected my postings this week.  I neglected a lot of things because on top of working 5 days last week, at least they were 8 hour days, I went Thursday to our rent house, worked until 9pm, Friday til 3 am. and Saturday another 8 hours.  I was so tired, I can't tell you how much I hurt.  The rent house had a switching of tenants and the old one left the place a mess. Everything had been neglected.  I didn't have the money for help, so I cleaned the carpets, detailed the inside, and almost caught up the yard.  Thank God my 15 year old helped with the carpets and carrying heavy stuff, I was already hurting.  Saturday, my college son Adam arrived with friends, thanks Hunter and Bella, and they all lent a hand. I would have had another full day on Sunday had they not each given me a few hours of help.  I was forever thankful.  I treated them to pizza and the next day made enchilada casserole!!

Sunday was my only day off, I was to be back for a 12 hour shift on Monday, which turned into a 14 hour shift from hell.  I left completely frazzled.  Because Wes felt bad, he told me to skip visitation on Sunday, to relax and come to visit him after work on Monday.  I was a bit wrecked.  Once I got there Monday night for visitation, it was so nice to see his face, I wanted to cry.  I was more tired then I can ever remember.  When I came home I made the decision to call into work. It would give me a day to recover. Because I skipped the day, I will have to make it up on Wednesday or Thursday.  Wednesday, I was still not ready to go back, so that leaves Thursday, which means I miss my son's football game, again.  Football has always been our thing, and, what do you know, more guilt.  He is sweet, tells me it is totally okay.  He seems to know I need to rest, need a break.  Which brings me to today, Wednesday, I finally feel like I can go to work tomorrow.  I still am quite sore.  I am down to one pain pill, which I will break in half.  I have an appointment with the pain management doctor next week, I should be able to hold out, unless I have a bad episode, but I can always go see my family doctor for meds in the interim.

In the process of all this craziness, I have not wrote, but I have talked frequently to my husband, thanks to my new phone number and cap on fees. I think I said the words, "I'm so tired." so often this week, my poor husband was so worried about me.  I'm not going to lie, I was wrecked after all the work.  But after a couple of days rest, I got back to work today 10/09 and had a good day, busy, but normal busy.  I missed my son's game, that is always a bummer, but his dad was there rooting him on, and he got to see a lot of his old pee-wee football friends at the other high school.

It is nice to reflect back, I felt so wrecked, tired, and ready to curl up in a ball and give up, after the Monday from hell.  Nice that after a couple of days rest, some encouraging words from a coworker, and a bunch of short calls from my husband helped to sooth away the exhaustion.  And that was all it was, complete exhaustion.  This weekend my son will be with his dad, I will work and will enjoy being lazy, watching movies and eating whatever deliciousness I throw into the crockpot.  I might decide to just eat cookies and milk, its nice to be an adult.  I have to still write the hubby and post his funny post...very funny, I love and miss him so much.

Heavy heart. by Lesa

9/30/2014

When I left visitation last night my heart was heavy, I cried and prayed on the way home.  I want my husband to know peace where he is, no matter what.  He feels hopeless. He never, hardly ever cries, and not only was he crying, but had been fighting tears all day.  He feel lonely, abandoned.  An agreement was reached 4 weeks ago tomorrow.  Everyone else who was sent to SAFP or sent back to SAFP signed their papers the same day.  No word from his attorney, who finally, after I asked again last week, said he tried twice to call, no word from the probation officer, Wesley finally wrote her a letter, very politely and gently inquiring about what was going on, of course, no word from the judge.  He knows I love him, but the having no end in sight, even after a court date, that he missed because the guards at the jail took him to the wrong place, good thing his attorney was there, no end in sight is the worst you can do to an inmate. The not knowing, thinking you are sitting there until somebody looks down at your file and remember, oh, yeah, that guy.

My daughter Jessica and I sent Wes some books, help to pass the time.  One of us, I think me, sent him a depressing book about a woman who's father dies before they can make peace between them.  Wesley got news this week, that is father is dying.  He has been dying for a long time, but several things make this different.  His weakened voice and stating his blood pressure being 80's/50's is not good.  Also, he called Wesley's sister to tell her he was sorry for all the trouble he cause them, he has never, ever called and said he was sorry.  It has stirred more emotions for  him.  He is dealing with them alone.  He has never said he was lonely before.

I just got off the phone with Wes, he seemed in better spirits.  He is convinced that judge Mayes is working behind the scenes to get him a reasonable sentence with Harris County so that he can go to SAFP and get on with his rehab.  We will see what the week brings.

Counseling in jail. by Wesley

9/29/2014

I have to confess that after enjoying these generous accommodations for two months I have reached one staggering conclusion:  If I hear the word "nigga" again I will die.

That may sound like a hyperbole, but it is not. I have a standard issue human brain and there is limited storage space for words that begin with "N-I-" It is close to full after two months.

I read a book that described someone's lack of generosity as "niggardly" and my headache intensified.  The Game of Thrones series has so many references to the "night's watch" that my left ear is hemorrhaging.  I need a bread.  That word should be the new "N" word- never to be spoken.

These symptoms may be a mirage and I may just kill myself.  I have bought ear plugs.  I put them in, covered my ears, and buried my head under a blanket.  It's still there.  I can't escape.  Constantly peppering people's language.

Speaking of religion, I'm sure you're familiar with the expression "There are no atheists in fox holes."  That should be extended to jails.  Present company excluded, the most vile actor's become devout once they find themselves in the human zoo.

Yesterday, I heard the following statement, "If I beat a murder case.......that's God."  There is so much that is just wrong about this statement that I'm left without much to say.

It shouldn't be surprising that people find religion in jail.  I met Jesus' last week!  In fact, I have met three guys named Jesus' in the last 2 months.  I discussed my new "N" word overload with Jesus' and he agreed.  I think he agreed, but he doesn't speak English and my college Spanish is fading, much to my shame.

I also heard a discussion about a popular class people take in here.  At least 9 of the 24 people in here trudge off twice weekly to hear the wisdom of a Montgomery County paid counselor.

Sunday, my neighbor was sharing the wisdom he learned.  Addiction he said, was likely caused by unresolved demonic possession of one of your ancestors.  I added the "unresolved" and "ancestors" (he said, "grandad." I didn't think it was intended to be limited to that degree of consanguinity).

I had to remove my ear plugs and ensure that I'd heard what I thought I'd heard.  I was not mistaken.

On a totally unrelated note, a guy in here has been heard telling people he has Tourette's syndrome just so that he can talk dirty to himself in the shower.  He fears being judged harshly.  Okay, that last one is just me, trying to be funny.

Finally beating Global Tel Link!!!!

I can not tell you how good it felt to get some good news today.  After complaining to the BBB about billing issues, it took 5 weeks to get a written response from the company.  It included the representatives phone number. I called her and during the conversation she mentioned to look up a ruling by the FCC regulating inmate phone calls.  I took her advice and here is I have learned.

1. There is a cap on what they are allowed to charge for inmate calls now.  $.21/ minute for out of state prepaid calls, $.25/minute for collect calls.  NO FIRST MINUTE SURCHARGE.  That means you can talk for a couple of minutes, throughout the day. Now, I am waiting for my summary of charges to check on the facts of shorter calls, fees, etc.  The max for an out of state call is $3.15 for 15 minutes, service fees/taxes is $1.38 total is $4.53.  Texas has not "caught up" and complied with the law, but if you have an out of state number they have to follow the federal rules.  Get a google account, get a FREE out of state Google number, and you have finally put a limit on their fees.  Here is the link to the FCC regulations. Call if Global Tel Link is not complying.  I have made shorter calls, but when I called to get fees, they told me all my calls were 15 minutes, so I think they may be charging me a minimum 15 minutes.  I am keeping a log now of all my calls, all my calls to their customer service, the most inept people on the earth.

http://www.fcc.gov/guides/inmate-telephone-service

2. They also told me that if you have a local number 936-756  or whatever the first three digits of the jails phone is, which is 936-760 then you will only pay a flat rate of $4.10, plus their taxes/fees for a 30 minute call.  Now this is flat rate, no matter how long the call is, up to 30 minutes.

I am getting two numbers, one local, and one out of state, to take advantage of both.  Still not sure if they are charging me the minimum of 15 minutes, but no where on the site, or on the pre-call recording does it say that.  I have just sent another letter to the BBB.  I have received 2 replies, which were helpful, I got the out of state information from them, but still not giving me access to my account activity, so I can monitor my time and money used, you have to call and ask for it to be mailed to you.  And it does not say the actual local numbers that will get the flat rate.  I have a Google number with a 936-666 exchange I will try next payday, see if I can shave a couple dollars off the 30 minute charge.  Pass the word!  Once the account is set up, you can forward calls to your cell phone or home phone. Google search for information if you are not sure how to do it. I will try to post details of how to sign up for Google phone number later, or you can leave a comment or send a private message.

The out of state thing should work with regard to any facility you are over paying, but the local thing will have to be a local number of where your facility is located.

Enjoy a few more calls, or a little more money in your pocket.

Processing hurt feelings. by Lesa

I have just read a heart breaking letter. I wrote the other day about my motorcycle ride, and about the fight afterwards.   Wesley wrote what was going on for him.  He already feels like a piece of shit, being in jail, leaving me alone with all the responsibilities.  He already feels, sometimes, that I was not happy with him before all of this came to pass.  In fact, I was worn out from working nights.  Also worn out from fighting to get caught up on bills. He took that to mean I was unhappy with our life together.  I mistakenly stated that I was bending over backwards to take care of everything, and what I meant to say was that my plate was full, I was occasionally overwhelmed with all the responsibilities.  Even in our discussions afterwards, he stated it was like we were having two different conversations.  He was trying to describe and explain his feelings, even though some were not true, it was what he felt was true.  I felt accused like I had done something wrong by getting a break, and was overwhelmed with stuff.  It took us two days to process, and even then it took me getting his letter today.  He has been depressed every since.  I can not help but feel I am at fault.

He does not need me to tell him that I am overwhelmed.  As hard as it is for me here on the outside, his pain, his sorrow is more important, it takes priority.  I do need to buck it up, or at the very least, get better at hiding it.   Being tired and having a bad day are part of life.  But being overwhelmed, going for a ride, whatever to him may look like or seem like me getting sick of this life of waiting for him, needs to go.

When a person gets depressed they get selfish.  It isn't intentional, it is trying to survive in whatever circumstance they are in.  I know this, I have been there.  My life is tough at times, but not compared to him.  And I am his life line.  I have to hold myself together, hold our life together, I have to be strong, be ever faithful to build him up.  He has done it for me many times.  A couple years back I went through 3 back surgeries in less than six months.  He physically, mentally, and emotionally took care of me.  Relationships has that at times.  Many times we just do what we need to do to get through.  But other times, like this, it needs to be purposeful.  I am incredibly strong, I am a survivor.  So, is my husband.  The unspeakable horror of some of his childhood abuse from his dad has made him incredibly resilient.  But everyone has a breaking point.  His despair right now overwhelms him.  He is losing hope, even though he has lots of reasons to have hope.  I am praying for him.  If you are a Christian, please pray for him too.  I love and adore this man.  He is my anchor in life.  Even as a Christian, I have always needed a lifeline on earth.  God has been merciful and kind and always gave me someone in my life.  As I reread this, I realize, actually, there have been plenty of times I have been alone and cried out to God to help me and he answered. I will pray and fast on that tonight.  I am not a fanatical Christian, my deep faith is personal, I am not big into organized religion.  There is a lot of preaching and not as much loving and taking care of people.  I'm about the people.  I don't know how I ended up in a theology discussion with myself.  Perhaps I will discuss it another day.

For now, I will be strong, tell my husband how wonderful he is, because he really is awesome.  Remind him of all the hopeful things that have happened so far, that his attorney is going to gently prod someone along to get the paperwork going to he can move to Harris County to begin the process of dealing with all of that.  My husband said some key things today I would like to share.  One, his great humiliation of being in jail creates a difficult situation for us both.  We like to talk every night. 15 minutes is our lifeline.  Occasionally we get 30 minutes as a treat.  But, if I want to do anything, last minute, and I have to excuse myself to accept a call from jail, he is horrified, ashamed, and that is doubly around my kids.  He already feels like a loser, and my grown kids, especially twin sons, are just getting to know him, but to have their mom leave a room to take a call from "loser husband in jail" is more than Wesley can handle.  So, keep in mind, this situation. It at times is going to create a problem, like when I go visit my boys in Austin, or San Antonio and have to leave to take a call.  He knows where I am, he knows what I say when I leave the room.  I get it.  I can't explain to my children that those 15 minutes are a lifeline for us both.  It keeps us connected, grounded in reality, and lets us know the little things, like how our day went.  Especially once Wesley is in SAFPF, they are in group and therapies so much, there is always much to share.  My kids are not judgmental, but I am their mom.  I am not sure what they think, I guess I have always been afraid to ask.  Maybe later. ha.

In his letter he describes one of his weaknesses:

"Of course, things were getting better, and I have been feeling better about myself.  But I know, and so do you, that I have a self destructive pride that flares up.  when you tell me you 'bend over backwards', for me, I immediately will tell you, 'don't bother'.   We both know how I will react to that.  It will be a visceral quick reaction, lacking any emotion.  I realize that is a contradiction, but I think the two responses are like 2 sides of a flipping coin that show you both sides as it travels through the air.  so when you say that, a response comes from deep inside of me in a place of raw emotion, but it comes through a filter of sounding like 'I don't give a fuck'. "

That filter is what helped him survive the abuses of his dad.  He was not allowed to show emotion, that was weak.  It was literally beat out of him.  If he cried, he was beat till he stopped.  It helps to understand that, and to be a little patient when we are both feeling emotions for totally different reasons.  Neither one of us were able to hear the other, we both felt under attack, and from different places.  It was the first time I heard Wesley speak of his pride in that way, the flipping coin. It was helpful to get the visual, for future reference when we get into an emotional fight that I am not even sure what it is about.

Not sure if this helps anyone, but its out there for the world to see.  I'm keeping positive.  Going to have a long bath to pray, then some mindless TV to go to sleep.