I’m having a long week at work. Although I can’t and won’t allow an inmate to intimidate me,
one inmate is doing his best to apply the pressure. He’s also on psychiatric medication and his
size alone is enough to intimidate any normal human being (6'4" - 375lbs). But dealing with
murderers is what I’ve been doing for over 18 years. Its what I do for a living. Its what my family
depends on. I can’t just up and quit, God knows I’ve wanted to. I’ve gone to work with
tears inside just waiting to bust out of me. But there’s too much at stake and so much of our future
depends on my ability to cope. The one and only place I can call refuge is my home. But lately,
I’m seeing more and more confrontations at home, then I am in the prison. I’m not the same
person I use to be. I’m not care-free. I’m not happy. I’m not fun to be around. All’s I want is
to have some peace, to be able to do what I want, when I want, all’s I want is to be left alone.
But responsibilities at home dictate otherwise. The love I have for my family can compare to
no other. However, responsibilities at home are becoming a source of anger. As much as I’ve
tried, some thinks just can’t stay at work and I bring some of those feelings home with me. I’m
not out of control, as one could surmise from such a scenario. But when you can’t bite your
tongue any longer, words can be just as hurtful as a ton of bricks. You end up hurting the ones
you hold dearest to you. You make decisions based on anger, frustration and exhaustion. You
seek guidance from professionals. You take medication to enable you to allow a little more
onto your already full plate. You do this, not because you honestly feel you need to. But because
you trust your loved ones, enough, to keep you on the right path. To tell you things, not to hurt
you, but to help you get through what ever it is that appears so troublesome. But even that tends
to ware you down and eventually stop taking chemical substances into your body.
With that all said, lets complicate matters just a bit, shall we. Your loved ones are human and
have flaws of their own. They have pressures, stress and everything that life has to offer in order
to dump on them. As hard as they try to cope with my problems, they have their own to shoulder
as well. They can only do so much, until life demands a release from their burden. The result is a
collision of like personalities and regretful confrontations. They can only do so much. At this
point, one might seek out counseling or turn to religion for answers. The only thing that keeps my
family together is the Love we share for each other and the hopes that the future will hold
something better then what is. Hope, its all that I have left right now. So when you hear of a
family member, friend, co-worker or a neighbor suffers from the "D" word, have a little more
understanding and compassion. Not just that individual, for his entire family as everyone pays
the price. Depression was never something that my dad truly believed in. It was a sign of
weakness and a opportunity to pull yourself up by your boot straps. But I’m writing this to
proclaim that its real for a great many people and for a variety of reasons.
Sorry this was off topic, but I needed to do this. :embarrest:
one inmate is doing his best to apply the pressure. He’s also on psychiatric medication and his
size alone is enough to intimidate any normal human being (6'4" - 375lbs). But dealing with
murderers is what I’ve been doing for over 18 years. Its what I do for a living. Its what my family
depends on. I can’t just up and quit, God knows I’ve wanted to. I’ve gone to work with
tears inside just waiting to bust out of me. But there’s too much at stake and so much of our future
depends on my ability to cope. The one and only place I can call refuge is my home. But lately,
I’m seeing more and more confrontations at home, then I am in the prison. I’m not the same
person I use to be. I’m not care-free. I’m not happy. I’m not fun to be around. All’s I want is
to have some peace, to be able to do what I want, when I want, all’s I want is to be left alone.
But responsibilities at home dictate otherwise. The love I have for my family can compare to
no other. However, responsibilities at home are becoming a source of anger. As much as I’ve
tried, some thinks just can’t stay at work and I bring some of those feelings home with me. I’m
not out of control, as one could surmise from such a scenario. But when you can’t bite your
tongue any longer, words can be just as hurtful as a ton of bricks. You end up hurting the ones
you hold dearest to you. You make decisions based on anger, frustration and exhaustion. You
seek guidance from professionals. You take medication to enable you to allow a little more
onto your already full plate. You do this, not because you honestly feel you need to. But because
you trust your loved ones, enough, to keep you on the right path. To tell you things, not to hurt
you, but to help you get through what ever it is that appears so troublesome. But even that tends
to ware you down and eventually stop taking chemical substances into your body.
With that all said, lets complicate matters just a bit, shall we. Your loved ones are human and
have flaws of their own. They have pressures, stress and everything that life has to offer in order
to dump on them. As hard as they try to cope with my problems, they have their own to shoulder
as well. They can only do so much, until life demands a release from their burden. The result is a
collision of like personalities and regretful confrontations. They can only do so much. At this
point, one might seek out counseling or turn to religion for answers. The only thing that keeps my
family together is the Love we share for each other and the hopes that the future will hold
something better then what is. Hope, its all that I have left right now. So when you hear of a
family member, friend, co-worker or a neighbor suffers from the "D" word, have a little more
understanding and compassion. Not just that individual, for his entire family as everyone pays
the price. Depression was never something that my dad truly believed in. It was a sign of
weakness and a opportunity to pull yourself up by your boot straps. But I’m writing this to
proclaim that its real for a great many people and for a variety of reasons.
Sorry this was off topic, but I needed to do this. :embarrest:
