It’s hard to believe how much time has passed since I last wrote anything to you. I have to be honest, as much as I would like to sugar coat it…as much as I want to be inspirational and have a positive effect on your lives…the truth is, I have suffered greatly over this past year. I made some really poor choices, in reaction to the recent tragedy, loss, and pain I experienced. The reality, my friends, is that life is filled with tragedy, loss, and pain. Pain is sometimes necessary for growth... and tragedy and loss are inevitable.

A life spent behind bars does little to prepare us for these experiences. Behind bars, we are told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. We are constantly immersed in a sense of tragedy, loss, and pain... We put up walls and become numb and anesthetized to these feelings. We easily become conditioned to allowing the system to make our choices for us. The skills that we learn on the inside, in order to adapt and survive, do not translate well to the experience of life on the streets.

As I reread back over my last newsletter, I am amazed at how I failed to follow my own advice. It is one thing to advise others how to make the choices that will enable them to be successful... It is quite another to actually put your own advice into practice, when the shit hits the fan. Forgive me as I stumble over the words that follow... It has been some time since I put pen to paper (so to speak). How can I convey to you the experiences of the last year of my life? How can I help you to fully understand the challenges you will face, so that you do not have to make the same choices that I did... and therefore suffer the same consequences I have endured, or worse!

It was a wake-up call when I experienced something as simple (in retrospect) as my ignition going out in my car and having to cough up $800 I did not have to get it fixed. I raved at the injustice of it all! I put a tremendous amount of negative energy into something that simply was... I had no control over it. It was a minor bump in the road…a road we all travel. "This is just life, Joey…shit happens" my girlfriend pointed out to me. I began to realize that I had little experience dealing with real life situations. I had to adapt to a new set of rules, circumstances, and speed bumps. I thought that I had gained the wisdom necessary to deal with adversity, after I had encountered a few of these "This is just life, Joey" experiences. I didn't even bother to include them in my newsletter. I wanted to keep my words to you positive and encouraging. I didn't realize the significance of these encounters; the true value they actually are for someone inside to be forewarned about, until now in hindsight. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, I was blindsided by the perfect storm.

I had it all—remember? True love, the perfect job, the pride and the self-respect I worked so hard for and earned through service to my community, the beginnings of a meaningful relationship developing with my son, the bike, the car, scholarships, the end of my senior semester and a Bachelor’s degree, with honors even (me, a convict!), a promising career before me... and then I got sick.

I mean drenched in sweat, puking my guts out, going to the emergency room, sick. No one could figure out what was wrong with me, they would just give me some pills and tell me to come back if it got worse; it got worse... and I went back... and back. Still, no diagnosis, let alone a solution this medical anomaly. I had to withdraw from a couple classes and couldn’t keep up in others. I called in sick so much (because I was really sick) that I lost the job I loved. The girl I loved with all my heart and I parted ways when we had to face the reality that we could not compromise on fundamental issues—my heart was broken, I could not eat, I could not sleep. I had regular episodes of violent illness.

As if I wasn’t in enough hell, I fell asleep at the wheel and totaled my car, nearly killing myself and the person I collided with. A new doctor took over management of my care and she did not approve of the medication I'd been taking for two years for depression and anxiety (problems I have had since early childhood) so she decided to change it, which not only did not work, but the timing couldn’t have been worse That was the last straw... I began to medicate myself.

I was besieged on all sides. I became a tortured soul. I isolated. I felt I had nowhere to turn and no one to turn to that would understand what I was going through. I was the one that others were looking to for inspiration and leadership. I was supposed to have it all figured out, right? I had lost control so fast that I could not even comprehend it myself, let alone admit it to the world.

I will not trouble you with all the details of my downward spiral that many of you are familiar with... The dirty deeds, the lies and black-hole-alibis. I became, once again, everything that I despised. I could fill page after page with descriptions of the anguished, tortured, silent screams of the marionette, as he rode his bike from place to place, wearing the mask of ruthlessness and indifference... but, we all know that story, whether our addiction is drugs, alcohol, violence, etc...

I woke up in the hospital, after a suicide attempt, to the anguished faces of my family surrounding me. A torrential flood of emotions, suppressed for these months by futile attempts at escape, washed over me in a giant wave. Choking and gasping, I drew my first sober breath. My eyes cleared and suddenly after a few blinks, I saw the insanity of it all. How could I have come to this? It seemed like I just woke from a nightmare, but it was too real—it WAS real.

Everything that I had worked so hard to build, not only during my time in prison, but also during the two years since I had been released, was crumbling apart by the will of my own hands and mind. The immeasurable effects that my actions had on my family, loved ones, and everyone whose lives’ I had touched since this journey began was also a moment’s breath away from being destroyed.

I will simply say this; without the unwavering help and continued support of the Post-Prison Education Program, you would not be reading these words right now. I would not have the opportunity to put the pieces back together and continue forward towards my goal of leading a meaningful life of gratitude and service. Without the help of supportive people in my life, I would not have the ability to use my experiences to have a positive impact on the world around me. Thanks to the Post-Prison Education Program’s help and guidance, I will be finishing my degree at the University of Washington. I will have the opportunity to create a successful life for myself and leave a legacy behind, for future generations.

Sadly, the funding for the Post-Prison Education Program is limited and very few will be afforded the safety net I was blessed with. You MUST be diligent, adaptable, courageous, and constantly aware of the fact that you are always a few poor choices away from ending up right back in the hole you worked so hard to climb out of.

Looking back, I can now see exactly where I started to go wrong. Upon my release, when I sent out my first newsletter, I had no job, no woman, and no license…just a room in an Oxford House and a borrowed bicycle to ride back and forth to school. Yet I was happy. As the cliché goes, my happiness came from within. I knew who I was, and what I stood for. I knew I was capable and deserving of success and happiness. I was centered in the moment. I had let go of the past. I had goals and aspirations for the future, but they were ephemeral and, I knew, subject to the whims of the Universe.

As both time, and I moved forward, I began to achieve my goals. I thought I was finally climbing that ladder of success we often think is a pipe dream. I got my license, I got a good job, I got a bike and car, a relationship with a beautiful woman, scholarships, awards, and opportunities abounded. Mind you, there is nothing wrong with these things, of course. They are honorable and worthy aspirations and achievements. The fault lay in the fact that I had begun to equate my sense of identity with these external factors. When I began to lose these things, I felt I had lost myself. I felt I no longer had worth.

We are not our possessions, our relationships, our position in society, or even our achievements. Who we really are in our own hearts and minds, no one and nothing can take from us. I have been awakened, from deep sleep, to find myself teetering on the edge of oblivion... On the edge of cliffs that life sometimes presents, there is awareness, promise, perspective, hope, and a healthy amount of fear. There is no view that can compare to the view from great heights. I now realize how precious this moment is. I know all too well that if I forget where I stand, on the foundation I worked so hard for, I am doomed to fall. If I remain aware of my precarious stance, in this moment, all things are possible; good and bad; it is a matter of both perspective and knowledge. It is in the here and now, always, where I shall remain.

Your Kinsman,

Joseph Gary Jensen,
Man Of Action

                                   

Seattle Cultural Trio Trip

I went on another cultural trip with the Trio Program last week. A bunch of Trio students took a bus up to Seattle. The trip was smack dab in the middle of finals week and, to tell you the truth, I probably should not have gone. I felt like I really needed a break from the stress. I took my laptop and books with me, so I could study on the bus ride, but I really didn't get a whole lot done.

It was a good opportunity to get out of my shell and interact with other students. A couple of the same people were on the bus that were on the riverboat cruise, so that made it easier. I made a connection with a guy who is involved in the Viticulture program, who makes wine at the school. I'm hoping that the next time they make a batch that they will let those of us in the DTC program, who are pursuing carreers in graphic design,  make the labels. I also connected with an attractive girl who does modeling and is really into Steam Punk. She gave me her card and said she would be glad to do a shoot with me. This will go really well in my portfolio. If I hadn't forced myself out of my comfort zone a little bit, I never would have made connections like this.

Once again, I highly recommend joining some sort of school group, even if it's not the Trio Program. I believe it is paramount to our success that we branch out and make new friends and connections.

When we got to Seattle, the first thing we did was go on the Seattle Underground Tour.

It was interesting, the way the tour guide presented it. I had been on the tour before, but I remembered it as being really boring. This guy was both entertaining and informative. I got some cool pictures too.

After the underground tour, we went on a "Duck Boat" tour.

The duck boat was an amphibious vehicle. We had a very entertaining tour guide. As we drove around the Seattle area, we learned all kinds of interesting facts about the history and culture of Seattle. The duck boat also gave us a tour of lake Washington.

While cruising around the lake, we got to learn about the history of Lake Washington.

After the duck boat tour, we went and had an awesome dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. Great food and interesting conversation. I felt like I had perhaps made some new friends, which is never an easy thing for me to do. At the very least, I made some good contacts to help build my portfolio and I was able to quit stressing out so bad over finals and just relax and enjoy a beautiful day.

Culture blog catch up "The Riverboat Cruise"

I've got some catching up to do. I've been so busy with finals that I haven't felt that I had the time to get anything down in this blog. Part of the problem is that I am a perfectionist. I feel like everything that I do has to be polished, rather than just getting down my thoughts and experiences, like I suppose you are supposed to do when writing a blog. So... I am going to try and remedy that. I am going to try and write about my life and my experiences, for good or ill, without making a big production about it.

I have recently been on a couple of school trips, sponsored by the Trio Program. The Trio Program is something that I would highly recommend anyone coming from prison and transferring to, or starting out at a college campus. Coming from prison, you would automatically qualify, due to your history of low income. The Trio Program helps you with mentoring, tutoring, early registration, and many other services. There job is to keep you in school and assist you in any way they can.

These trips were sponsored by the school in order to enrich our cultural awareness. I suppose that some of that occurred, here and there... but, most of all, we just had fun. The first trip I went on was a riverboat cruise. It was one of those old school paddle boats.

The captain spoke about the history of the Columbia and snake river as we paddled down it. Honestly, the thing that I got the most out of, was learning to communicate with other students. Getting to know other people, from other walks of life, can be a big challenge to someone who has spent their whole life on the streets, or locked up. Feeling comfortable and confident enough to approach and make friends with "normal people" is a skill that takes some work and getting used to. I strongly believe that it is an integral part of learning to become a citizen and productive member of society. I would encourage anyone coming from a similar background as mine to involve yourself in school groups. Even if you feel uncomfortable at first, force yourself into social situations that will improve your people skills and allow you to make new friends. I believe that you have to learn to hang out with the kinds of people that you want to become like. For me, this means stepping way out of my comfort zone. All in all, it was a great trip. Great food, cool scenery, a little increase in cultural awareness, and a good honing of the social skills. In my next blog, I will tell you about the Seattle trip we took. for now, it's back to studying for finals.

Volume 3

Addiction

So...  here I am, sitting in a hot tub in my motel room at the Bavarian Ritz, in Leavenworth, listening to "Welcome to the Cruel World", by Ben Harper, at five in the morning, happy as a clam. I promised to write about addiction, so here goes...  I don't like talking about it; who does? And yet, it is another of the vital elements of my story... my struggle... and my triumphs. I sincerely hope that some of you will read this and be able to identify, in some way, or another. This is a struggle many of us face. Not the root of the problem, but perhaps the most identifiable element of my lifelong cycle of incarceration and hopelessness.

Simply stated, alcohol and drugs have laid waste to my life, in every form imaginable.   I won't go into the story right now; I just don't have the time. We'll have to save that for another day. Instead, I will summarize. I began self medicating at, what was at the time, a very young age. I had suffered from severe depression and anxiety, since I was a child. Alcohol and drugs made me feel comfortable in my own skin. I remember thinking "this must be what normal people feel like".  The self medicating soon turned into partying with my friends. The partying soon turned into full blown addiction. I had a lot of good times, but more often than not, as time progressed, my love affair with alcohol and drugs left me either regretting, or just plain wondering, what happened. My addiction progressed and by my 20's, I was shooting heroin, coke, and meth and drinking like a fish. "What's my drug of choice? Well, what have you got?", as my hero of the day, Lane Staley, singer for Alice in Chains  said. Sadly, he ended up dying of an overdose, like a good many of my past heroes.  I tried so hard, so many times, to quit. I even went to rehab a couple times. I had some periods of success, but they never lasted too long. I always thought I could do it "my way". You know... maybe just drink beer, or only take pills, or only shoot up on the weekends...

 Once again, this is an extremely condensed version, but when you have a $500 a day habit, you have to figure out some way of maintaining it. I started robbing banks. I thought I was cool, an outlaw... a rebel without a cause. Of course, it didn't last. Eventually, I ended up in prison. Back when I first started doing time, in the mid 90's, things were a lot different than they are doing time today. They fed you well, the fellas all stuck together; we lived by a code. I'm not going to say that it was all fun and games, not a day went by where I didn't witness, or involve myself in, some form of serious  violence, or another... but, we did have some good times. I never intended on going back, but obviously I didn't suffer enough, because I did end up going back... repeatedly.

I always started out well. Often, I had the help and support of my friends and family, to help me get on my feet. Once again though, I thought I could do it "my way". I thought I could just drink beer, or maybe drugs were ok, as long as I didn't shoot anything up. I had to find some way to numb the pain, to give me confidence and overcome my overwhelming feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness at the seemingly insurmountable challenges involved in building a "normal life".  Of course, my way never worked, for long. I always ended up strung out and back on the street, running and gunning.

Four prison sentences later, I had lost the respect and support of virtually all my friends and family. They just didn't understand why I kept making the choices I did.  I can't blame them; I didn't much care for myself, either.  I was a real dirt-bag. I had hurt a lot of people and caused a lot of destruction, by putting my addiction before anything else in my life. By refusing to take responsibility for my own actions, I had allowed my addiction to dominate me and decide the course of my life.

No more! I have had enough. I'm tired of spending my days suffering on the streets, chasing an enormous drug habit that could never fill the void, spending my days locked up, being told what to do and when to do it, eating shitty food, constantly being a source of disappointment and detriment to my friends and family. I knew that I could no longer do things my way, if I truly wanted to learn how to live the life I was meant to live. If putting my addiction first was the cause of so much pain, destruction, hopelessness, and suffering, I now know that I must put my recovery first, if I want to ensure that I never go down that path again.

So... here I sit, on the deck of the motel in beautiful Leavenworth, enjoying a gorgeous sunrise, as I finish writing this blog. All my school projects are up to date. I expect I will achieve straight A's, this semester. I am starting a new job, redesigning the website for WSU Tri-Cities. I am regaining the trust of my friends and family. I am making new friends, who live the kind of lives that I want to live. I am working towards regaining custody of my son. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, without cops or an addiction dictating my actions. None of this would be possible, without my choice to live clean and sober.

If any of you can relate to this, at all... If you think that your life is out of control, due to your alcohol or drug use, I strongly suggest that you don't try to do it yourself. If your best thinking repeatedly gets you locked up and miserable, perhaps it's time for a change. Einstein said "The thinking that got us where we are is not the thinking that will get us where we want to be". I had to learn a whole new way of thinking. Involving myself in a 12 step program has helped me evolve in so many ways. Whether you find guidance and direction from church, or a 12 step program of your choice, I strongly recommend that you not be afraid to reach out and ask for help. We can't do this alone. The good news is that we don't have to.

The view from the back deck

"The Road to Recovery"