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