I’m going to write this with having zero sleep, so if it comes out sounding fucked up, you’ll know why. Yesterday I was arrested for application to revoke a one year suspended sentence on Possession of Marijuana. I’ve had the warrant since August 2005, from where I didn’t/couldn’t complete my community service, due to the fact that I was put in the hospital for a week, and then it was one thing after another and I never got around to completing the hours.
After the jackass yaS reported what I had posted, which I figured he would, a few more of his friends made there way to my site. After finding out who I was, they of course ran a check on me and discovered that lovely warrant that has been hanging over my head for too damn long. When I made the post it was in the back of my mind that I could be arrested, but in a way I was ready to get it over with. I’ve barely left my house in the past two years, so this forced me back out into the real world again.
I was arrested by the Glenpool PD Officer Mobley (hope I spelled that right. Nice guy, smiles a lot.) around 3:45pm and was taken to the local jail. I did okay for a minute, but only a minute. I don’t know if I want to write about this next part or not. I’m thinking about it for a minute or two. I haven’t even told anyone in my family about it yet, and I probably won’t. I’m keeping my sleeves pulled down, just to make sure no one sees. I don’t want them to see, because they will want to know why I did what I did, and sometimes I just don’t have a reason why.
I mostly cut when I get stressed. It’s like I go somewhere else, and when I’m done cutting I return to a more normal state. That’s usually when I say to myself, what the FUCK!
I’m a cutter...shhhh...don’t tell.
Its socially unacceptable that I express pain.
I bleed just so I’ll know I’m alive.
Pain doesn’t hurt when it’s all you’ve ever felt.
I don’t know what the young man’s name was, but I guess I should thank him now that I feel a little more normal...well as normal as I’ll be. Part of it, I think I have already blanked out, like the first initial cut, but I do remember asking for some toilet paper, because I didn’t want to make a mess on the floor or on me. I guess that’s the OCD. The young man handed me the toilet paper and I thought he had walked away, but I guess for whatever reason he looked back, and that’s when he saw what I had done. I don’t know how far I would have went had he not looked back. Probably further than the seven stitches.
At the hospital, I had a real nice baby sitter, Corporal T. I liked him, mostly because of his remark that he didn’t need no stinking taser. I like that in an officer...lol.
Officer M returned to the hospital to take me on to the county, and as we drove the short distance, we talked a little about my past. Telling him just a small part of my life, almost brought me to tears right there. I still can’t face my past, and I damn straight can’t talk about it to someone’s face. Maybe someday I can let it all go.
I finally got to the jail around 7pm, and surprisingly I wasn’t treated like a drain on society, I actually felt ok...Or maybe it was the xanax that I had taken before the cops picked me up. It could also have been that the Sheriffs department is running the jail again. Or it could have been that a camera crew from American Jail was there. (God, I hope they don’t put my ugly ass on TV.) Whatever it was, expect for the ridiculous amount of time I had to just sit around and wait, it wasn’t the bad experience that I figured would take place. I know it is my own actions that lead to some of the bad experiences I have had, but not all of them.
I finally made it out of jail around 4am, $600 dollars poorer, but at least now I don’t have a warrant hanging over my head. (Watch out, I’m now able to freely roam the streets again. That’s not a threat...just a little bit of my sick twisted humor.) I laid down in bed around 5am, but was never able to drift asleep, finally I got up and took a long hot shower before being at court by 9am.
Last thought, then I have to get some sleep...I want to know from the Sand Springs police department...if it wasn’t one of the officers from around there who has been harassing me, then who was the person that contacted you about the post “Late Night”?
And everyone, if you don’t want to read about fucked up, weird, off the wall, crazy ass, stupid, sad, painful, nasty shit that I write, don’t come to my site. It will still be here, and anytime I feel the need to post some insane thoughts from my head, I will post them. It is better to post them, than to keep them locked in my head.