Me at 53 (Part One): 3/6/2013 - 3/10/2013

[ I am back working through my prison journal. It is out of order… Well, the order is as I have opened boxes. The date in the title is the date it was written. I hope this is not confusing. What you are reading is what you get for your tax dollars. sch 7/13/2025] 

I turned 53 on February 27, 2013. This was my second birthday in prison. I got no birthday cards, and I expected none. Joel Cartiglia gave me a cream cake. Two other inmates wished me a happy birthday. I am so many years older than I wanted to be.

It has taken me several days to get around to writing down these thoughts. I had to answer a letter from my older sister and also one from a friend in Tennessee. And I have been tired. So much for mea culpas. 

I do not feel depressed as much as this feeling of being out of synch. Sometimes I feel as if I am clapping on the off-beat. I feel certain someone will think that appropriate. A great gap seems to open before me whenever I think of the future. I have no thoughts of a future, but I cannot escape the fantasy game. I have two women deserving an apology; one in Anderson and one in Muncie. I doubt the latter will be alive in 20222 and the former will probably care less about an apology from me than the sun cares about the star Altair. About the future, I feel like death seeking a home.

sch

[7/13/2025:

The woman in Anderson was not happy that I tried to make my apology. It was left on her voice mail; she did not want to see me. That was my ex-wife, A-.

CC did not die. Neither did she change. She accepted my apology without wanting to change her ways. She also seems like death seeking a home.

Just because I stopped being suicidal does not mean that I was not ready to die.

Continued in Me at 53 (Part Two): 3/6/2013–3/10/2013. sch]