I made bad decisions as a child. I have talked about the fact that I have always felt that there was something different about me than anyone else I knew, and not in a good way. I don't know exactly when it started but it is truly present as far back as I can remember. Because of that I acted out. I started being a class clown. I started making a show of myself and as a result I reinforced that feeling of being hopeless. What a word. What a way to feel at what should be the happiest and most curious time of your life. At some point you step out onto the radar and now it is not just your own mind telling you these terrible things about yourself, now it's other people speaking those things into your life as well. When you are young those messages come in teachers demerits, school suspensions, expulsions, and my personal favorite the "shame on you" head shakes and disapproving stares.
As you get older it comes from law enforcement, corrections officers, guidance counselors, some of whom are do-gooders who reach out to you because they take the time to see that there is so much more to you than what is written on the pages in front of them. Ultimately though there is no cure. The process continues and throughout my whole life I have proven time and time again... Those who tried to help me eventually give up and those who knew better get to say "see I told you so." There is no mistake. I am hopeless. Shame on me.
The hardest part about that is that it is not something that I would talk about. I think back to all the trips to the office, all of the desparate pleadings of my father, all of the judges, cops, and even some of my bro's who were living the same treacherous life as I was....and their question was always the same "Why?" A very reasonable, very simple question that I could never answer. I really had no idea.
As my life progressed though as you would expect I eventually got used to it. I think I truly began to believe that my purpose here was to be everything I thought and everyone else said I was... bad. I remember being in a boys center in Sonoma, California. It was dormitory housing of 16-24 young men in each unit and 2 staff per unit during the day and 1 staff overnight. They worked on a point system. If you earned enough points you earn priveleges, and if you didn't they would make you dig holes in the dirt for 1-4 hours and then fill them right back in. If you don't understand why, then you don't understand the system. It is not structured to reform you, it is structured to break you. Unfortunately there was nothing to break in me. I was not obstinate, I was just overwhelmed by this sense of discomfort. I was just lost. So the system had a reverse effect on me. Instead of taking a bad kid and making him conform, it took a gentle, confused little boy and made him mean.
One night I had got into a fight and was made to stay up after lights out and scrub the tile floor near the common area. Mr. Voss was on staff. I have no issues telling you that I hated Mr. Voss. We all did. He was at least 6'6", well over 300 lbs., pure bred Samoian, and as I found out a raging alcoholic that loved confrontation. He would start it up between us and then reprimand us for giving him exactly what he wanted. You would think that we would be smart enough to recognize and avoid it, but he knew exactly what to say to challenge you. If you fought at least you weren't weak, if you didn't he would never let you live it down.
I finished scrubbing the floor and asked him to check my work. I knew how to handle him. STAY OUT OF THE LINE OF FIRE. Be respectful, but not submissive. "Mr. Voss can you clear me off the floor." To my astonishment he barely looked up, "you're clear.. go straight to your bunk." No problem. I was relieved until just about 10 minutes later I hear "Mr. Jasien bring your ass up here!" As I got up and stepped into my shower shoes everyone started sitting up and getting ready because there was a good chance that something was about to happen. "Is this where we store the mop bucket?" I can't believe after 6 months in this place I sabotaged myself like this. "Oh man, Mr Vos I'll take care of it." In an apologetic, you're right I am wrong tone. He ain't buying it. "Man don't play that aww shucks stuff with me punk, what does it take to get you to follow the rules?" Unfortunately my intelligence has up until this point not been able to out weigh my temperment. "Mr. Vos I just forgot I'll get it done right now." He steps really close to me. "You better watch that tone Mr. Jasien, or I'll put your ass down" and this is probably one of those moments when I should have really thought about what I was about to say and do instead of just saying and doing it. I put my hand out to stop him from coming any closer and he runs right into it "Dude what is your (bleeping) problem?"
BOOOM!
He was all over me. I froze at first. I couldn't believe how fast he was. I remember a sensation of intense fear like I had only felt maybe one or two times before in my life.. At first just chest bumping me up against the wall but as my only directive at this point was to get away from him as fast as I could I swung and the next thing I know he has both of his hands on each side of my face and lifts me off of the ground, slams me to the floor..... I tried to get up and he kicks my feet out from under me and I landed flat on my back hard, and the next thing I knew he dumps out the entire bucket of now ice cold, filthy mop water all over me. I looked up I saw the little caution sign (you know the picture of the stick figure slipping indicating to everyone that the floor is wet) on the mop bucket coming down on me as he was in full swing. At this point I am no longer afraid I am on my feet and spin around and kick the bucket just as he lets go of it. Perfect connection it flew across the room and I felt the surge of confidence you get from the crack of the bat in a homerun and I start shouting expletives I won't repeat telling him to bring it on, just to show him I was not afraid.. Unfortunately to my dismay he complied by charging and grabbing me by the neck, picking me up and slamming me into the wall and holding me there.
.......Everything went quiet. I could smell alcohol on his breath and that is when I remember coming to the realization that this lunatic was going to kill me.....
"Mr. Voss let him go", "He's had enough Mr. Voss" my brothers had all jumped from their bunks and were now stepping in to my aid. "Come on Mr Voss cut him loose." That's the thing about places like this... All you have is eachother. A common bond that is forever. Some of my oldest friends today I met in places just like this one. Stirring all this ugliness up, that is the one pure memory that I have of this time in my life... I loved those guys, I love them still, I will love them forever.
I opened my eyes and saw him looking around while he still had me elevated against the wall. At some point he let go and I dropped to the floor. I was soaking wet, freezing, my head pounding, my ears ringing, I knew my ankle was either sprained or broken, I was totally disoriented, and for just a moment all of the fight in me had just vanished. All I was thinking was "I am just a kid." I was 13 years old.
I never filed any complaint. I never spoke to anyone about what happened. Before I left that place I had two separate incident reports for attacking staff and one flight (where you depart the premises at high speeds without prior authorization). I walked on crutches for 2 months... The reason I bring this up is I believe that this moment is what permanently galvenized in my mind that this is what I deserved. There was nothing good about me.
So off I went down a dark road, with a dark future, and I deserved every bit of it... I went into those places at 12, almost 13 years old. I was maybe 5'7 to 5'8" and weighed in at a whopping 160 lbs. When I came out I was 6'3" and 215 lbs of nothing nice. It wasn't until around that time when I was 15 years old that someone finally had mercy on me, they gave me a drink of liquor, they gave me drugs.....For the first time in my life I had some relief...
What is your struggle?
God's intention for us is not suffering. God's intention for us is his favor, not to just exist in a black pool of shame. Through Him there is healing. Through Him there is hope. I have done all the research for you. I have tried everything to escape what is ultimately "100 different forms of fear." I have tried liquor, drugs.... I have been in 7 different drug and alcohol treatment centers, I have been arrested...Honestly I really have no idea how many times I have been arrested... 25? 30 times? I have been convicted of 4 separate felonies, and more misdemeanors than I can remember including 3 DUI's. I have been the target of at least two state investigations and one ongoing federal investigation for major fraud. I have totaled 4 vehicles..... I have compromised more than I was ever willing to lose including my own family who wanted nothing more than to love me and for me to just love them back. To give them the home life that they deserved. I have made many costly choices while God has waited patiently for me, and what he had for me costs NOTHING. I was like a mouse who cared about nothing more than getting a bite of that cheese. Over and over I ended up caught in the trap and at that moment, snagged in the trap where there seemed to be no hope, all I cared about was escape. I would struggle and fight to get free and make deals with God that if he just got me loose I swore I would never return, but the moment I was free..... I was going right back after that cheese.
That is what defines an addict. Not what your doing. Its why you do it. It's the notion in the back of my head that "this time it will be different." I am the gambler who loses everything he has, just to build it all back and lose it again. I am the woman who compromises her values for the man who says all the right things just so he will love her and even after being left over and over, she does it all over again and again with someone else who is no different and offers nothing more. I am the man who prowls on these desparate woman like a wild animal looking for food. I am the hoarder, the over eater, I am all of you. I am no different. Whatever we use is just the symptom of a big spiritual hole in us. I ran my life blurry eyed and at high rates of speed straight into the ground over and over until the one day that finally I ended up on my knees. It was no longer because she was gone. It was not because my kids were gone. It was not because my own brother wanted nothing to do with me and feared me being near his children. It was not because of the six figure jobs I would lose. It was not about not having any resources left to survive on. It was finally not because my life was unmanageable, it was because for the very first time in my life while facing these types of consequences I still couldn't stop. It was because I realized that this thing was going to kill me. It was for the most selfish reason of all. It was because I didn't want to die. By the grace of God, at that very moment, someone reached out to me.
He told me that 8 years earlier he was exactly where I was. His wife had divorced him, he had very little relationship with his children, he was facing 15 years in the state penitentiary, he was flat broke.... I started listening when he said that he was so close to taking his own life.... Sitting in front of me was now a man who had everything... "If your willing, I will walk you through this. If you do the work I promise that your life will change." I had been up for days. I was so out of it. I felt like I was so far under the water that I would never break the surface again. I went home and crashed hard. This testimony was just a whisper into the loud chaos and terrible desparation, but for some reason... It was just enough. I walked up to him the next day and I said "I will do whatever you tell me to."
There is absolutely nothing to great for God. For years I truly felt after asking for forgiveness many times that he didn't listen to me. That his promises did not apply to me. I would go to church and my wife would introduce me to people and I felt so absolutely out of place. My wife used to lay her hands on me and pray over and over for me when I was asleep. She would beg for God to remove the demons that kept me bound. I cannot imagine and never really stopped to think about how much you have to love someone and how desparate you have to be to do that....It's not that I didn't think God was real I thought that he just didn't love me, want me, or even know who I was.
I write this stuff because I am in search of a promise. I share this stuff because I want to be an example and testimony that that promise is for everyone. Just like someone else was to me. If I am forgiveable, if I am loveable, If I am worthy then rest assured you are too.
BELIEVE IT!
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