‘Correspondence Adventures’

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

People have been focused on some of my thoughts/views of the various pen pals that I have had. For most of you, I can see how some of the things that I have said have come across as general blanket statements. In the end however, it was me who needed looking into. I am going to clarify some of what I believed has jaded my overall interpretation of the pen pals I once had. I have also made the decision to officially open the door to any and all correspondence from those of you who do follow this blog. In doing this, you will be able to send your comments, questions and concerns directly to me.

My ‘Pen Pal’ entry was written during a time that I was in a pretty lonely place. I had convinced myself that I needed someone special in my life that I could potentially develop a relationship with. In truth, it was a disaster in the making. Subconsciously, I had developed ridiculous expectations and I had doomed myself from the start.

On a parallel track, the guys that I was corresponding with were also in search of something and so, I filled a void in their lives as well. Looking back now, none of it was meant to be truly serious, let alone develop into something of true substance. In the end, I was at fault for perpetuating the roller coaster of emotions that I would experience.

Today, I have a much healthier outlook. More importantly, I have gained a self confidence that I never really had – or believed could exist. I realized that the people I need, are already in my life. My interactions have changed and my thought process has grown in such a way that I prioritize the people I love most before anyone or anything else. I do it without provocation and I am proud of that.

At present, I have a couple of wonderful pen pals. I no longer have expectations or an agenda. I am simply enjoying the fact that I can meet new people in a unique way. If I make a few friends along the way, then this particular form of communication is well worth the effort.

I know there will always be a cloud of suspicion over my head simply because I am in prison. As I take into consideration social media, email and texting, I know that the idea of corresponding with someone via “snail mail” is not all that attractive. I get that. 

For those of you who may be inclined to drop me a note however, there is still a link to my profile on writeaprisoner.com. If you have a comment or question (and I welcome them all!) here is my direct mailing address:

David McKinney

ADC# 169947 - 6B5

A.S.P.C. Yuma, Cheyenne

PO Box 8939

San Luis, Arizona 85349

Now that I have shared my mailing address, I will also resume the “Advice From Behind the Walls’ segment of the blog again. Please keep in mind that I am not a trained professional and my answers or advice is strictly from my personal experience and point of view.

‘On My Own’

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

“I’m on my own.”, “You are on your own.”…

I have been hearing these two phrases more and more lately and it’s really having a strange effect on me.. I feel like screaming to the world that “I GET IT! I’M ON MY OWN!!!” I can’t shake it for some reason. It is really beginning to effect my psyche. If there is in fact a subliminal message that I am not getting then I have no idea what it could be. In the past, I have feared being on my own, or alone. I viewed it as a negative thing but I have changed, I have to go back and explain some things.

12 Years Old:

Joe. I loved this man more than anything in the world. He was my best friend and the love of my mom’s world. I called him my ‘dad’.

The night that Joe died, mom was working the 7PM – 7AM shift at the hospital. Joe took me to play 18 holes of golf and when we got home it was around 9:00 PM. We ate dinner, showered and settled in. I fell asleep on the chaise lounge in his office while he was working at his computer.

It was around 3:00 AM when a loud thump woke me up. I got up, and as I walked past the master bedroom I noticed the door was open and the TV was on. When I entered, the bed was still made. I walked around to the master bathroom. Joe was still in his clothes but lying face down on the bathroom floor. His body was lifeless. Intuitively I knew he was dead, He was only 42 years old. I remained calm and tried to move him. I was unsuccessful, He was 6’4”, 260 lbs and I was still a boy. I eventually decided to give up and instead, to lay down next to him. I put my arm around him and stared into his face. I spoke to him, begged him not to leave us and then remained there in silence until I heard the garage door opening. Mom was home.

I got up and ran through the house. I arrived at the laundry room just as she was entering. When she saw my face, she asked me what was wrong. I told her that Joe had died. For the first and only time in my life, she had hit me. I flew into the dryer, stunned. She yelled at me and wanted to know why I would say such a horrible thing. She proceeded into the house. Moments later, as I lay on the laundry room floor, I heard her begin to scream. It seemed to go on forever.

Phone calls were made and within minutes, the police, coroner and friends all filled our house. Mom was inconsolable and I took care of as much as I could. Without realizing it, I completely disassociated myself and tried as best as I could, to be strong for my mom. As she cried in my arms that night, something darkened inside of me. I knew that we were on our own.

I have dealt with Joe’s death in my own personal way but it is still the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life. It may come of a surprise to hear that coming to prison would be a very distant second.

33 Years Old:

I live methodically. I perform daily tasks alone, only having social interactions when someone needs my help or advice. It is common knowledge in here that I am not one for small talk. I keep occupied with letters, blogging, music and working out. Prison is my temporary home; it’s simply where I live. I am grateful for everything I have, but I am most definitely on my own in here. Loneliness consumes me most days but I have grown accustomed to it over the years. It’s become my ‘status quo’. It’s my version of “normal”.

37 Years Old:

It is difficult to hear how my release is going to impact everyone’s lives. They want me to succeed in life and I appreciate that. I feel an unsettling amount of responsibility at knowing that the changes they will be making are really to accommodate me. Those are lives that are established, lives of people who do not easily embrace change.

Mom

-      Uprooting her life and moving across the country. (She detests Arizona however and is embracing New England.)

-      Liquidating some of her investments to buy property in Boston

-      Taking the responsibility of another 30 year mortgage. (Inevitably I will take over that mortgage, but not for several years)

-      Starting a new job

-      Postponing retirement

-      Saving funds for my start-up reserve

Joey

-      Surrendering his bachelorhood for mom to live with him for 14 weeks prior to her permanent relocation

-      Allowing me to initially live with him if Mom has not yet established residency

-      Making changes to accommodate me getting on my feet with everything; money, transportation, acclimating me to Boston. (Basically holding my hand)

KB (mom’s BF)

-      Impending possibility of him relocating to a city he doesn’t want to live in

-      Fear of racism in Boston (Though I can’t imagine it could be worse that Arizona

 in my opinion…)

All of this is a lot to think about but today, I see being “on my own” as a positive thing. It is a sign of independence and success. I have gained strength from Joe’s death and strength from prison as well. The irony is that ‘being on my own’, is what I want to achieve most in my life now. I will be in a new city that I feel will be my home for the rest of my life. And I desperately want to succeed. 

I do not want to let myself, or my friends and family down.