Memories and recollection can be a double edged sword at times…

In working on my book, I was sifting through a stack of my old legal paperwork the other day. Perusing all sorts of details of my many mistakes, and the home invasion that cost me several years of my freedom (via felony aggravated battery and burglary charges, that stemmed from said home invasion). It was quite interesting, in that among the facts are some copies of inter-agency police communications, about what they knew about me, what I had been busted for, and what they thought they knew about me. Some of it was very correct, and some of it was quite wrong.

It was interesting to see that I had been a suspect in a burglary as a teenager that I honestly had absolutely nothing to do with. As well, I came to the realization, via police records included in my paperwork, that I had been arrested, charged and convicted of at least one more crime than I had actually remembered.

I have included a picture collage of a few snapshots from my paperwork, of details that stood out to me in regards to the home invasion that ultimately cost me 5-years of my freedom, earning me a trip to an American state penitentiary. Along with costing me my permanent resident alien status, and the right to continue living in the United States.

It was interesting to see that by by midway through the age of 20, that I had had over 30 negative contacts with law enforcement in one county. Bear in mind that I had only moved to the US at age 11, when I was still a good kid that had not gotten into trouble. The trouble started slowly around age 14, and ramped up at age 16. I had even lived elsewhere outside of that specific county as well, for 4-mos in another state when I was 17, and for close to 2-years in a larger city about 90-minutes south, between the ages of 18 and just before I turned 20.  I also had a slew of negative contacts with police in that other, larger centre as well. I was a busy little criminal…

I also noticed that they have a typo in place of the alleged gang that I was allegedly associated with, when they list me as a gang associate. They accidentally typed their own internal code for gang associate “GASS”, in place of an alleged gang name.

I have to admit that I feel like an outside observer when I read the details of some of this stuff… As my life is 100% different now. However, as I continue sifting through the stack of papers and reading, much starts coming back.

I also find it mildly humorous that the vehicle they had me listed as owning, was an old Cutlass. I say in jest, that I guess I must have enjoyed being a “heat bag”, attracting unwanted police attention, and the fact that I was committing several felony drug transactions daily, and interacting with known criminals wasn’t enough to attract unwanted police attention. So I chose to drive one of the most stereotypical models of cars that I could, given the company that I kept at the time. One half-Chinese male (me) with 1-3 Hispanic males, almost all with shaved heads, cruising around in an older Cutlass at all hours of the day and night… In the area we lived in, that is a scenario just begging to get pulled over.

One of the things that I also find most striking, is the fact that in one court document I am described: “he is without any moral convictions and is cold and calculating”.  As well I am referred to as: “an extreme risk to the community”.

I read that and for a second wonder who they are talking about… Then I remember what I used to be, how I thought, and what I had deemed as acceptable behaviour…

I have to admit that there are times that I still struggle mentally a little bit. It comes only at times when I spend a large amount of time thinking about all of this. There was a period of several years when I first got out of prison, was deported, and had a chance to establish a new life in Canada, with a clean slate, that I eventually stopped thinking too much about my past. I deliberately tried to not bring it up, which required creative versions of the past, when asked some questions. I tried to not outright lie, I would just omit certain details. “Yes, I lived in such and such area. Oh, I worked at a library… Yes, a library.” (I would just leave out the fact that it was a prison library). There were times I desperately wanted to bring it up, for various reasons, and the odd time I would open up to someone and talk about the basics of it. Almost always blowing someone’s mind in the process, as they would have had no idea. But for the most part, I kept it quiet and as I said, for a period of years I think I unconsciously tried to forget.

However, ever since I have been working on my story. As well, opening up about it to people I know, along with the general public, the topic is on my mind frequently. It is a bit of a double edged sword, in that with it being at the forefront of my thoughts so much, there are times that I struggle a little bit with certain things. I have these intense moments where I enter a very strange, dark space, that I feel in ways I cannot adequately describe… Where I start to remember why I thought the things I was doing were okay… Where I again start to understand what made me tick at the time. I remember that once upon a time I did not care much if I lived or died. That I did not care too much for anybody outside of a small group of people. I look back and perceive myself during some of those times as being a “savage”, and that I plain and simple did not give a f@$%.

I can admit that I find a certain amount of solace in these strange, dark moments, as if being visited by a very familiar friend. However I also cannot let myself dwell in that space too long. Not that I will ever go back to that life… But that it starts to consume my thoughts, and affect my daily mood, and how I interact with people.

I have been blessed with too much to turn back. God has delivered me from that life, and blessed me beyond words. I have too much good to live for now, and I have people that depend on me. I have been clutched from the jaws of the beast, and just about everyday is a victory of some sort.

I SAY ALL THAT TO SAY THIS:

I know that there are other people out there struggling to get away from their own demons and prisons, whether literal or mental, and I just wanted to encourage those that are struggling, to keep pushing forward. Even once you “make it”, though most days are great, everyday is not always “sunshine, rainbows and butterflies”. However, everyday that you can say you defeated the beast one more time (whatever that means to YOU), is a check mark in the victory column.

BE BLESSED!