The Last 2 Days

Wednesday saw one truck at work and then being put on the line putting lids onto Ball jars. At one point, towards the end of the day, I kind of slid backwards, knocking a box of lids to the floor. I got a little dizzy, maybe a little hypnotized by the glass going by, got off balance, my legs locked up from stiffness, and there I went.

Wednesday night, I spent between trying to find a place online to publish my story "Death and a Kiss" and dealing with family issues. I also spoke with my youngest nephew. Only speaking with the nephew left me feeling as if I had done anything satisfactory. No, I did get my laundry done 

No word from my PO.

No reading of Celine.

Today, I was sent home early from work. I was on the glass line, again. Once more, the lightheadedness. I thought eating would do set me right. It helped a little. Not enough, though. The team leader asked if I was okay and I told her I was holding up. A few minutes later I changed my mind. Another time I would have bulled my way through. I have come to admit I cannot do as I did when younger. Besides, this would mean I would be at home to do my first mental health counseling session 

I called my cousin and left a message.

I checked my bank balance before taking the bus to Aldi's. I still felt a tab bit nauseous but needed food for tonight. I have not been able to keep to the Lenten fast. It is so hard to go meatless when I have no freezer and nothing to cook with other than a microwave.

I got home, ate some of what I had bought, and was calling FSSA when my cousin called. We spoke until I realized it was time for my counselor's call. I rang off from my cousin. 

I called the counselor. I got shifted to his voice mail. I see he called left a voice mail. The call had not otherwise been noticed, no ring heard. I called back. Finally, we got together. We went over the intake evaluation and treatment plan.

My child p*rn (I type it this way so my monitoring software does not block my access to this blog) charge came up. I explained what I had been doing as the intake person put me down as having pedophiliac tendencies. I felt the utter ass telling the story. It was not a new feeling but this time it left me feeling very tired.  He said, I was smart snd ought to have known what people would think. I told him if I was as smart as I thought I was then I would be in the ground; if I was as smart as my friends thought me, then I would never have gotten into this mess; therefore, I was not very smart. Seriously, I never thought anything more about tge pictures other than means to an end.

I now feel more depressed than I have in a long time. I am beginning to think I should just  lie and say I am a pedophile. The counselors expect a denial. They do not believe when tell the truth. The same old story - I can lie and believe but being honest leaves others thinking I lie. If I lie, then I only need face a priest the next time I do confession.

Well, I got to face myself, too. When I had compartmentalized my life in the years before my arrest, I lied. I lied to others and to myself. When I lost control and the walls started falling inward on me, I lost control of the lies. 

I do not know what I have to lie about. Everything is known. I never was one for telling lies easily discovered. Too impatient for that. But why not tell people what they want to hear? I am close to doing so. That feels too much of my old way of thinking that I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. In prison, I worked my way out of this kind of thinking. I have tried being to myself. I have been honest here. I see no profit in being otherwise.

I offered the counselor the url to this blog. He was not interested. I am left with the feeling of being a liar.

So I might as well declare myself a pedophile. Make these counselors and the government happy. Maybe then the PO will approve my laptop.

I called the FSSA after hours. Their phone system/computer does not show their getting the information I took to the Delaware County office. I should have gone their instead of the grocery.  I have to find a way to get to the local office without losing any more time at work. 

This is the worse I have felt since I began taking the Zoloft. I wanted the counselor in case the medicine was not enough to keep me walking the line. Now, I would not mind going back to Fort Dix. If I do, which will be because I do not comply with treatment for how does one comply with a treatment that one thinks treats the symptoms and not the causes? If it is to be, so be it. 

I will go to work tomorrow with the hope of getting in a full day. I will keep on going on.

Tonight, I will shower and then read Celine.

Thank you for reading this. Those of you who might be following in footsteps, see the cost and change your ways.

sch