Waking Up From Dreams Makes Me Sad

When I go on podcasts or radio shows to discuss my pornography addiction and people ask what’s the worst thing that has come out of my last five years, first from my heinous mistakes, then my legal ordeal, and the fallout since, I usually talk about how I’ve created victims and can’t change that fact.

I still think that is the worst part, and I hate to be at all self-centered or self-pitying, but I personally underwent massive seismic changes in my life and none has been more unexpected than losing 99% of the people I used to call acquaintances and friends. I have to say this is second place in what has become the worst part of things.

Most of the time I handle this OK. I’m actually a very solitary person. I’d rather work from home doing my own thing than a cubicle farm in some office. The only thing I liked about working at those places in the past was the interaction with co-workers a couple times a day. I’m a loner who doesn’t like to be alone.

I feel that longing for human interaction most of all when I’m dreaming as I sleep. Or, I should say I feel it most when I first wake up. The subconscious is a weird thing. One moment you’re in high school, the next you’re on a road trip and the next you’re in the hospital. The mix of people is just as random, but for whatever reason, our brain makes sense of the crazy narrative thread, even if your fifth grade teacher is interacting with your first boss.

When I wake up, I’m so, so sad. Nobody asks me about my crime in the dreams. In real life, people ask how I’m doing out of duty because they ran into me at Home Depot or just flat-out give me the cold shoulder. That doesn’t happen in dreams. When I wake up, I recognize I haven’t talked to any of those people since the day I was arrested. I haven’t talked to some of the people in a much longer time, but most are people who were part of my life at that point everything changed.

The only ones who are more recent are the people I met at one of two rehabs I attended. It’s hard to explain just how close you get so quickly to that group of people. I’ve been told it’s like being in a foxhole by people who have done both. The problem is, once you’re out of that incredibly intense bonding experience, you see all the differences. While I’ve tried both times, I haven’t been able to maintain casual friendships with people outside of rehab.

I’m not going to get into specific storylines in dreams, because let’s face it, nobody likes to hear other people explain their dreams. As these dreams are unfolding, they are in a world where I haven’t committed a crime by encouraging a teenager to perform sex acts in a computer chat room. Nobody ever asks about that in the dreams. Nobody seems to know it ever happened.

It’s almost magical being able to escape that, because it’s very different in real life. When something like my entire ordeal happens, you understand certain things will change. But then there are little things, like when I was in jail and would see restaurant commercials on TV. You enter jail worrying about getting beat up and what the shower situation is, but you never think about seeing things you can’t have on TV.

I think this dream world is like that. In my blissful slumber, I’m devoid of the self-inflicted shunning. In the next, I’m awake, and mourn a world that I will never be able to go back to in my waking hours.

I’m not asking for pity or ideas to recirculate back into society as I know that ship has sailed. Instead, I just urge anyone who is doing anything illegal, pornographic or not, to try and think about all the little things you’ll miss if you’re caught.

I saw a guy leave my pod in jail to head to state prison where he was to serve 20 years. My sentence was nothing compared to his and his crimes deserve that long. But he was also a human I got to know.  A human who won’t see his friends at the bar he talked about often, a human who won’t have a steak dinner until 2036 and a human who will wear only khaki or blue for the next two decades. Those may seem like little things, but when you’re living them, they’re not.

I’m 4.5 years away from that fateful day I was arrested and regardless of any jail, probation, offender’s registry or anything else the legal system throws my way, I’ll be paying for this crime in ways I never imagined for the rest of my life…except when I take a nap.

The Day I Truly Entered Recovery from Pornography Addiction Was…

…the day I stopped waiting for other people’s advice or tricks to be the magic bullet solution. I’m now just over 4.5 years sober from porn. I would have told you then that M/O (masturbation/orgasm) was also an issue, but once the porn went away the M/O reduced by 98%. I was a porn addict.

I was in therapy for years long before I ever admitted to my porn addiction, trying to deal with my anxiety and feelings of always being out of place in the world. While it did come to light that I was bipolar, and that was important to contain, I just kept waiting for the piece of advice or the pill that would make my life fall into place and I’d become like all of the other people.

Through my 20+ years of porn addiction and alcoholism, there were certainly times where I was very weak and I know that I certainly did some damage to my pleasure centers by nuking my brain with dopamine, oxytocin and all of those others happy chemicals.

I am grateful for my therapist. She is an amazing guide through my psyche and has helped me connect so many threads that I finally understand the web of who I am, and I couldn’t have done it without her, but she couldn’t have done it without me…and for too long I was waiting for that.

I didn’t know about NoFap or online boards where most guys try to white-knuckle it, or theories like the whole Red Pill thing back when I was in early therapy. I think there are holes to all of those modalities, but if they work for you — actually work — then I think they’re fine because it’s YOU who is making them work.

I sat in a few months worth of Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings mostly listening to men complain about their sexless lives and realized that the only way you’re going to change is if you truly become committed to change.

My therapy moved in a bit of a cognitive behavioral direction and that started to make all the difference. How often do you ask yourself, “Why am I about to do this?” “What is motivating me here?” “Why am I having these feelings?” At one point in my recovery, I was probably doing this 25 times a day. Now, there is a level of muscle memory that has sunk in. Triggers are hardly a bother, for both porn and alcohol.

I’m proof that anybody can beat this thing, but I’m also proof that this isn’t like a broken leg where it just heals on its own, and it’s not like an illness that antibiotics will take care of. It’s not a mental condition that a few pills will contain and nobody is holding back the secret that will make you better.

It’s on you. You need to make the commitment to change. It’s not a desire, it’s not a hope. It’s a commitment. You get your ass up everyday to go to work. You visit your family on holidays. You pay your taxes. You know how to handle commitment. You just have to decide this is worth it and once you take control — well, the hard work has only just started — but at least you’ve taken that legit first step.

Note: I posted this on a message board about porn addiction, but thought it would also fit with what I do on this site. I need to remind people that while they may not end up a pornography addiction expert, they can all end up in recovery.

Pneumonia reminds me of my real place in the pornography addiction world

I find that I have illnesses so rarely that when I do I always end up saying, “I haven’t been this sick in a long time” despite the fact I couldn’t actually tell you the last time I was ill. I don’t get those three-day colds twice a year. I get bronchitis every couple years, or end up with something that technically isn’t an illness, like needing my gallbladder out or a knee operation. This time, the culprit has been pneumonia.

It started as a nagging cough in late August and after about 5 days I finally went to the doctor – only because we’d already met our deductible – and found out that it was pneumonia following a chest X-ray. I remember back in the day when an X-ray would take 30 minutes to develop and read.

I’ve spent most of the last week in bed. One of my once-in-a-great-while freelance clients fired me because I couldn’t produce a project as quickly as he’d hoped. I think it’s kind of an asshole thing to do, but I also believe karma will get you in the end. I can’t recall the last time I’ve been this consistently tired, or had a cough that just won’t quit.

I’m feeling better, though still a bit weak. The doctor said it could be a month before I feel back to my normal, jaded self.

Along with ignoring my work, I ignored updating my site. It’s the first time I’ve ignored it for over a week in the year I’ve been operating it. Despite my hits dropping by half, it was nice to see that people still used it as a resource even if I was AWOL.

Not only did I ignore my site, I had to cancel an appearance for a library presentation on porn addiction and two podcast appearances. I completely got off my porn addiction high horse for probably the first time in three years. I didn’t write about it, talk about and for the most part, think about it.

Instead, I watched reruns of Match Game ’78 and Card Sharks. I watched a little bit of the supreme court nomination hearings (anybody who can’t or refuses to answer questions as much as this guy – liberal or conservative – wouldn’t get my vote). I read an old Malcolm Gladwell book called Outliers and I improved about 40 levels on an iPad game.

This taught me that it’s OK to walk away now and then. When I’ve taken vacations or breaks in the last few years, I’ve not taken breaks from the porn addiction stuff. Despite the fact I felt like crap, I think the last 10 days has shown me that recharging my batteries is going to be a vital part of keeping my message fresh moving forward.

I don’t know how many more people crossed the line into porn addiction in the last 10 days, nor do I know how many entered a program of recovery. Both numbers have nothing to do with me. I am not the end-all, be-all of porn addiction and if I walked away from this cause today, the world would not come charging, begging for me to return.

Sometimes it’s important to remind yourself that you’re just a small cog in a giant machine that can operate independent of your placement. It doesn’t mean you’re not important, just that you’re not vital to the continuation of the mission.

Years ago, I would have either denied I was a small cog, unimportant or that the world could continue spinning without me. I think I’m far healthier – despite being far more unhealthy than usual – in knowing and accepting this.

Coming to Terms With My Pornography Addiction Took Me A Long Time

As many of you know, I have a side business where I counsel pornography addicts or the loved one of addicts. You can learn more about it HERE. One of the people I help, who I told I would be writing this, said to me the other day, “He’s not like you, he’s not just going to accept he has a problem.” Wait, what?

That blew me away. I feel like I was dragged kicking and screaming over a long period of time into recovery and accept myself as an addict. Maybe because I’m writing this 4.5 years after I started I appear like I had it all together in the beginning, but I didn’t.

If you’re the partner of a loved one who you think is an addict, be prepared for a long road that is especially bumpy in the beginning. Sometimes, all you can do is plant a seed, stand back and hope it germinates.

It’s not like there’s a blood test or urine test you can force a porn addict to take that will reveal it. If you’re not willing to be patient, you may have to talk to him in a different way and not use classic terms like “addiction” when it comes to his use.

I think there are two ways to go with this:

First, you can agree with him that he’s not an addict if it’s going to help the situation get resolved. Saying something like, “I respect the fact you don’t think you have an addiction and you would probably know better than me, but I don’t want pornography in this house and I don’t want my husband looking at pornography. I don’t want you to get to the point where you think you are an addict, because either way, I feel like it disrespects me. If you continue to look at pornography, it will be hurting me and our marriage/relationship. I won’t stand around and let that happen. If you don’t think you can do that, either because you don’t want to or you’re unable, there are a lot of places that will help, but that’s your decision.

Second, go the scholarly route. This is more for the person who thinks they are smart and needs facts about porn. Figure out why you think he has an addiction beyond, “He looks at a lot of porn.” What negative effects has his pornography had on his life or your life together. Take a look at the definition of addiction. It may feel like you’re building a PowerPoint presentation for work, but if he’s anything like me, he’ll accept he has an addiction once presented with the science and data.

It took me about eight days of listening to hard data regarding alcoholism at a rehab before I accepted that I had a problem with drinking. It was another six months and hundreds of hours of therapy before I was able to wrap my arms around the idea I was a pornography addict and was another six months before I finally accepted that addiction is a disease.

Yes, 4.5 years later I may appear to be fully active in my recovery, but the first year of my recovery was a slow, slow build. I had to get there on my time regardless of what the experts, therapists and family members said around me. I got there, but it wasn’t on their timetable. If you told me in that first year I’d be a pornography addiction expert by this point, I would have laughed in your face.

You’re not going to be able to force you partner into rehab or know that he’ll walk through the front door of a 12-step meeting just because you tell him it’s best. Even if he accepts the fact he is an addict the moment the words come out of his mouth, there’s a lot more work that needs to be done.

You plant the seeds, you water them, you hope for sun.

Teach Me: How does name-calling help get over infidelity?

As a lot of you know, I’m working on my second book right now. It’s a collaboration with a great therapist out of California that is going to be geared at the female partners of male porn addicts. He’ll handle the therapy side, I’ll handle the been there, done that side. The early work we’ve done is good and I look forward to continuing.

We’re not talking about sex addiction in the book. My co-author could, but I don’t have experience with it. My life was not secretive rendezvous and texting on burner phones. I don’t have the DNA makeup for that although I don’t judge any of them harsher than any other addict.

There are many women who have to deal with men who are both porn addicts and sex addicts. Many of them are loyal followers on this site and I always appreciate their feedback to me. Knowing what’s important to them helps me focus on what I should put in the book.

Sometimes I’ll need to directly ask them about something I don’t understand. I’ve never been in their shoes and betrayal trauma recovery is nothing I’ve ever participated in.

I suppose I could ask them the question central to this article individually, but I’d rather pose this to the community as a whole because I’d love to get feedback from different kinds of people who have had different experiences around infidelity and addiction. I sincerely hope it doesn’t trigger or open any wounds. There’s the warning. Trigger, trigger.

Why hate the other woman/women so much? I understand that they participated as your husband’s illicit partner, but why does it matter what their story is?

In the best possible scenario, your husband was lying to them the whole time and they had no idea your husband was married or boyfriend was in a serious relationship. They were duped the same way you were.

In the worst-case scenario, they knew he was married, were a close friend of yours and set out to destroy your relationship.

Either way, your husband was a willing participant and these women owe you nothing. Sure, it’s kind of sleazy to sleep with another woman’s husband, but it’s not like the husband didn’t also sign-off on the dalliance.

No perfect answers

I spent most of my last therapy appointment talking about this book. My therapist is voraciously secretive about her clients, but she told me she’s dealt with women going through betrayal trauma and it’s even harder to deal with than somebody going through the death of a loved one much of the time.

She said for whatever reason, there are just some women who can’t let go of the betrayal, yet don’t want to end their marriage. After running around in circles, she said that there have been a couple where she just didn’t know what to do with because they either couldn’t or wouldn’t move on.

The betrayal to my wife was on a lower scale because it was just pornography and chat rooms, or at least I think that’s what she told herself. There was also the involvement of the police and legal proceedings, so I think that threw the average betrayal situation off its normal track. I believe getting myself healthy over the course of time, and her having the time to do the same for herself took care of most of the pain. Either way, I know that I got lucky with how little she held against me. She could get totally mad at me, but the women on the other end of the computer had no idea who they were talking to…how can they be the target of her betrayal?

Oh yeah, well you’re a stupid head

In reading many of the entries these women put on their blogs, I’m impressed by their strength and dedication to their families and their systematic way of picking up the pieces and fixing things. Sometimes I think they may go too far with the boundaries/discipline with their husbands, but that’s probably natural for me to think things are excessive for the guy since I was the guy in my scenario.

The one thing that almost all do, that I have never been able to understand is how much anger, hate and resentment they carry for the “other woman.” Since none of these women use their real names on their blogs, everyone gets a nickname. Usually the husband or boyfriend gets a positive name, although I think it’s used ironically. The other woman, though, gets roasted.

I won’t use the real nicknames I’ve seen but they would go along the lines of “Supertramp,” “The Homely Whore,” or “Satania.” Feel free to use any of those, ladies.

Why so much hate toward the other woman? I read some of these terrific entries that encapsulate their feelings of grief, anger, betrayal and loss and am right there with them and then the other woman is introduced as “The Angry Cow.” It takes me out of the blog entirely.

I understand these women being an object of scorn, but is the name calling just to lower them? Is it to degrade them as a human? It is to build yourself higher?

I’m not saying the name calling is right or wrong, but it comes off so jaded sometimes. It’s hard to see the blogger as the better person when they write 500 fantastic words about dealing with their situation like an adult and then refer to the other woman as “Pig Face.” I wonder if being supported by similar women who also use name-calling as a literary technique clouds any objective view toward it.

I know it’s a complex set of emotions and I really don’t mind those names being used if the feeling is genuine, although I think healing is going to involve letting those monikers go. It’s easy to say how much you hate a situation, but when you call someone a name, you’re putting that hate on display. Much like I said in a recent blog, somebody once said the best revenge is living well. How can you live well when you’re still calling someone names like you’re in middle school?

Holding onto Hate, Grudges and Resentments Hurts You More Than The Other Guy

At what point is making the other person pay for their sins enough? When have they atoned for the wrongdoing they did to you or the wrongdoing they did to the world? Who decides? A judge? You? Them? When is it time to let somebody move on with their life…but more importantly, move on with yours?

Now, obviously, if you murder someone, you’re going to be paying for it the rest of your life behind bars. I’m not talking about extreme circumstances like this.

The judge in my case seemed to be very clearly weighing two options: nine months in county jail or three years in state prison. Since I attended two inpatient rehabilitation facilities and had been part of intense therapy for the 22 months between arrest and sentencing, not-to-mention that my support system was local, she opted for the county jail, followed by three years of probation.

This week, I’m finished my second year and the countdown to being off probation falls under 365 days. For anybody who thinks probation is easy, spend some real time on it. When I got to jail, I met people who opted to do extra jail time to NOT get probation. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. It’s a cross to bear and a black cloud that follows you everywhere – or at least the places you’re allowed to go.

I have heard people say my sentence was too long and I never should have seen a day of jail time and I’ve heard people say they should put me in prison and throw away the key. From the moment I heard her verdict, I made the decision to accept the nine months I got (of which I served six months and six days) was appropriate. After all, isn’t the judge the person who was appointed by the Governor of Maine to make these kinds of decisions?

Dealing with injustice

Are you able to let things go? As I’ve mentioned on this site before, letting go of resentments has been a huge piece of my recovery. There is too much energy and thought wasted on resentment.

Sure, there were times that resentment felt good because I felt there was genuine injustice happening, but I now practice the concept of radical acceptance. It’s found in the Serenity Prayer in its purest form…know what you can fix, what you can’t and how to tell the difference.

Do I still think there is a lot of injustice in this world? Absolutely. Whether it’s a bunch of inept duck boat operators or a President who seems to get a pass on behavior that would have taken down any public leader before him, I see all kinds of injustice in this world. I just accept that my righteous indignation doesn’t change anything. And putting that righteous indignation on display says far more negative about me than about whatever I’m railing against.

If you want to see a bunch of resentful people, visit the comment section of any story on the Fox News website. Even when a story isn’t about politics, there are people who will twist whatever the topic is into a political debate where they are correct, you are wrong, end of story. And this comes from both the right and the left, politically speaking. It’s a place where people go to argue politics and when there are no immediate politics, they’ll argue about anything because they don’t know how to communicate any other way. It’s actually quite sad when you just stand back and watch.

Resenting other people takes time and energy and thought. Do you really have those things to spare and in looking back, how many positive results have developed out of your resentments?

Grudges are Resentments, too

Maybe you don’t think you carry resentments. Maybe you’re able to let the injustices of the world melt away. What about grudges? Carry any of them?

While it will probably be gone by the time you read this, somebody posted a vitriolic review of my book on Amazon recently. It wasn’t a review of the book at all, it was just a chance to call me a few horrible names. I don’t think the person did it to try and hurt sales. If they did, they don’t really understand how the process works. I think they did it to feel better about themselves. I hope it worked, but I know resentment doesn’t ultimately work that way.

Based on the content, they seem to be local and seem to still harbor a lot of anger toward me. It doesn’t seem like we were close based on what they said, but they knew me from afar, or maybe was an acquaintance. Six or seven years ago I would have been crazed to get their review off the page and making a federal case over the fact I was called a few names.

When I read this review, which is probably gone because it violated Amazon’s terms of services, I immediately felt bad for the person who wrote it. They seem very angry at me not just for the crime I committed, but for the fact I presented myself as someone I wasn’t prior to the arrest.

I still get the feeling that the populace where I’m from hasn’t let it go. The funny thing is, it’s not about any crime I committed, it’s about a deeper betrayal. I was a City Councilor and the “good guy” magazine maker who had the film festival that brought celebrities to town every year. I was eccentric, but in the best way possible. I was an interesting guy who was fun to have a conversation with.

Most of those things disappeared in many people’s eyes when I was arrested and convicted. Anything positive I did for the community was buried. I erased everything positive in one fell swoop.

There’s nothing I can do about that view of things. Once I figured it out a few years back I let it all go.

Let It Go

I will not be welcomed back into my community at any time because there are too many people who spend energy disliking me for poor choices I made five years ago when I was sick. I don’t use the illness as an excuse. I allowed myself to get there, but I also feel like I paid my dues and I’m done groveling. I’m sorry. I’ll always be sorry and I’ll always be vigilant to make sure nothing like my behavior ever happens again. But I have to move on. If you’re waiting for more groveling, you’re going to be waiting for a while.

I am a vastly different person today than I was prior to my arrest. Those who know me best can attest to that. Those who only knew me back then through Facebook postings couldn’t tell you anything about me, so they hang onto the anger and hate. I can explain for days I’m now a pornography addiction expert trying to do good with my situation. It won’t matter. They’ve frozen their opinion of me in time. I can’t unthaw it, so why try?

I paid my debt to society, or at least I’m in the last year of that process. I can get into the pathology of the people who yell the loudest about me not getting enough time, but it fascinates me far more than it bothers me. People don’t get as angry at gang members who knife somebody in the park. That person is expected to do that. I was never expected to commit my crime. I violated their trust.

I know there are plenty of people like that Amazon reviewer still out there and there probably always will be. It is what it is. I urge them, as I urge you, to let things go. Hate, resentments, grudges…they’re all a waste of time. Still hate the ex-husband or ex-wife? Let it go. Think Trump is the devil? Still want to prosecute Hillary Clinton? Let it go. Planning on being a bitch to the bitch who was a bitch to you in high school when you get to the reunion? Let it go.

When people get angry or indignant with me now, it just kind of goes through me. If they have a point, I’ll address it, but mostly it’s about needing to spew venom. That’s OK. I’ve got a permanent snake bite kit working 24/7 inside of me. That is one thing I will never let go of.

Keep Your Friends Close, and Your Good Friends Closer

I know I’m writing a bunch lately. Whatever the opposite of writer’s block is, I have it, and you’re the victim. One of the things that my 15-year-old son doesn’t seem at all interested in doing in life is creating or maintaining close friendships with other people. I guess it’s OK, but as somebody 27 years his elder, I worry that he’s going to come to regret it, especially if he finds himself with his back against the wall like I did when my pornography addiction was revealed in a very public way.

For those of you who follow this blog, forgive the next few sentences. You’ve read them too many times, but I’ve got to bring the newbies up to speed.

I was a prominent member of my community six years ago. I was the editor/publisher of a popular regional lifestyle magazine, was co-founder of a film festival that was finally getting national recognition and I’d just finished a term as a City Councilor where I lived.

I also had bipolar disorder, alcoholism and a porn addiction. Through a series of bad choices, I ended up engaging with a teenage girl online, convincing her to perform sexual acts on-screen. This is obviously illegal, I was arrested some months later in early 2014 and within an hour of my arrest it was the top story in Maine media and remained so for a few days. I ended up serving six months in jail for it in early 2016. I’ve been in recovery since April 1, 2014 with no relapses.

I was never the guy who formed deep bonds with people going back to my youth. I didn’t have a large group of friends. I had a large group of acquaintances in school. I had four or five good friends, but nobody rose to the “best friend” status.

I did a year of college in Rhode Island, made some friends, but never stayed in touch with them. Same thing happened at several work places I’ve had. I can be very, very close to you in November, but if you’re laid off in December, there’s a good chance we get together once in January and then never talk again. And for clarity’s sake, liking a photo of a “friend” on Facebook doesn’t count as friendship.

When I was running myself into the ground with the many full-time jobs (not to mention being a husband and father) six years ago, I thought I had more friends than I did. Since I had a big hand in the local media and the local government, I didn’t recognize exactly how many pretended they liked me much more than they ever did just to get my ear.

When I was arrested, about six people from that world of hundreds dropped messages to me on Facebook. When details – many that were incorrect – were in the media, even a few of those dropped by the wayside.

By the time sentencing rolled around in the first couple weeks of January 2016, I was left with two friends. Two. One had been around since 7th grade. The other was the ex-husband of a co-worker I met back in 2000 or 2001. Neither really had anything to do with the fast-paced life I created. They were around well before that time.

These two guys are not high-maintenance. We can go six days, six weeks or six months in between talking. It’s not a lot of effort to stay friends with them. It’s probably a big reason it worked.

I’ve reached out to a handful of other people who I thought I was closer with than most, but have received unanimous silence. When I see somebody in public who I know, I don’t go up to them out of courtesy and say hello. I allow them to come to me. Why create an awkward situation? I think people have said hello to me twice in 4½ years.

I understand there are a lot of things at play here. I was accused of a heinous crime, convicted on lesser charges and most people don’t know the actual details. I am probably more of a bogeyman in their eyes than is factually correct. If I am now just my crime, who wants to be friends with that crime?

I also understand many were never my friends. I do understand how friendships come and go while few stand the test of time. I thought that I had at least a half-dozen others out there that would last through everything.

I believe most people locally don’t actually despise me because of the crime. I think they despise the fact I presented myself as one thing while behind closed doors I was something else. I think there’s a level of betrayal there. If I were truly a monster incapable of change, I don’t think I would have sold any copies of my book or have been invited on so many radio shows and podcasts for interviews.

I have sold around 50 copies of my book locally. I was actually thinking I’d sell more, if for no reason other than people wanting to see if their name was in there. Honestly, I thought I’d sell a few hundred here. Thankfully, the higher-than-expected sales elsewhere made up for it and I’m still further ahead than expected.

I’ve not heard a review from anyone local other than my family. I wonder how many of my former “friends” have even read it.

The flip side of this is the idea that this is just part of my punishment. I shouldn’t be given a moment of pity over losing any friends I had and it’s all part of the package that comes with doing something as heinous as I did. I hope people recognize how much of the punishment and consequences of a crime don’t come from the legal system, but from society in general.

In the end though, I know it comes down to the fact I just wasn’t the kind of person who valued friendship for a lot of my life. I was content to let people go and I think because I gave off that vibe, others were content to let me go. I’m sure for many, I’m now just a guy they used to know.

I doubt my son is going to do anything as stupid as I did, but I worry that if he does, he’s going to have as little a support system outside of our family as I wound up having. I wouldn’t be this far along if it weren’t for my two friends, but I also wonder if I had four or five friends if I’d be even better off today. It’s one of those questions there is no answer for.

Cultivate friendships and nurture them. You’re going to be thankful they are there when you need them.