My Annotated Pain

"We were train wrecks for different reasons, so we were perfect for each other."

by Dan Abshear
(for henrymakow.com)

About two years ago, my then wife of 20 years decided to falsely accuse me of violently abusing her. A restraining order was issued against me by her as well, so I was evicted out of my own home. Soon after that, I was arrested related to these false accusations and wrongfully incarcerated for over a month.

While in jail, I spoke with quite a few men who were abused by the family law system. Most shocking to me at the time were those men on their way to prison for failure to pay child support. Most of these men were without income, yet they were convicted of this 'crime."

In April of last year, I spent a week on the mental health ward of the veterans administration hospital in Atlanta, for suicidal ideation, among other mental issues. They determined I was a drug addict, so I checked myself into the veterans administration substance abuse treatment program in May of last year.

After completing the VA substance abuse treatment program, I was homeless once again. The VA has a homeless program for veterans, so I entered this program. They placed me in an apartment with 5 other men, whose lives had been wrecked, as mine had been only two years ago.

Most of the men I encountered and became friends within the VA system were very poor, and older black men. It's a subculture I was completely unaware of, until this program. Many had spent a great deal of their lives incarcerated, and many were drug addicts. However, most of these men are very intelligent, and kinder than your average American citizen.

In less than a year, three of these friends I acquired took their own lives. Their pain quite obviously was equal or greater than the pain I continue to experience due to being destroyed by my ex wife. I continue to miss these friends.

Last Summer, while in this VA homeless program, I met a veteran girl going through the program with me. We were train wrecks for different reasons and therefore perfect for each other. Like me, she is not very attractive, physically, and is homeless, like me, but for different reasons.

This girl, like many of us, has been abused, physically and otherwise, for most of her life. She never had a decent lover/boyfriend, she tells me. I care for her unintentionally in various ways, and she thinks the world of such acts I may do for her. That does it for me- loving and caring for another girl authentically. That completes me. Most men have been programmed to view women, and their roles in our lives potentially, unrealistically.

The VA also has a program for unemployed veterans to work at their hospital for a period of 6 months, tax free. It's under the table money, which this girl and I both desperately needed. So throughout last winter, she and I both worked in this program, and saved a few thousand dollars between us.

During that time, a man I met online in Indiana offered his farm house to us there. Since our time in the homeless program with the VA was soon ending, we took him up on his offer. This is now were we currently live, with this man in Indiana.

We have no idea what tomorrow will bring us. We live day by day here, as we did with the VA homeless program in Atlanta. But we have greater peace now. We have greater freedom. And most importantly, we have each other. It makes each day worthwhile. Without each other, our lives were vacant, I believe. Our live our void of any desirable future- without each other. It's that way with most homeless people, I've discovered. They are alone. Completely alone. This girl and I- we have hope. And hope is a very good thing in the human life always.
—

The veteran's administration was very good for me in a number of ways. Their hospital was top notch, I felt, as a patient there. I continued to receive mental health therapy from them once discharged from their hospital. As a former patient caregiver myself, I found the caregivers associated with that hospital exceptionable.

I found the substance abuse treatment I received from them quite interesting, which lasted several weeks. My undergrad from college is in behavioral sciences, so I was only aware of such programs from that knowledge only, before entering this program.

They spoke of free will frequently during our daily group sessions- virtually ignoring the biological basis for addiction. That would be the only complaint I have of such a program. Well, that and their insistence that some God can replace our addictions. PLEASE………….

I'm also thankful for the VA homeless program, which gave me a roof over my head for several months. They never really helped me get a job, however. Yet, they insisted I somehow ...

I Married a Lesbian

May 24, 2011






by Dan Abshear
(henrymakow.com)

While being married to a lesbian for 20 years was painful, it actually made me a better person.

I met my ex-wife when I was about 14 years old. We grew up in the same small town in Missouri. She and I are 4th cousins as well.

She took an interest in me when I was 21 years old. She called me when I was home on leave while serving in the U.S. Navy. This was the first time I ever had any girl call me for a date. Because of this, I canceled a date I had another girl. We got married three years or so after this first date.

Coming from a rather abusive and broken family myself, I was determined to have a very moral and meaningful marriage with my wife.

My marriage is called a mixed orientation marriage, and millions exist in the United States alone. Most are unknowingly married to homosexual men, and the rest of us are or were married to homosexual women.

I mean, think about it: How do you really know about the sexual orientation of your spouse? Not all of us have gay-dar that is sharp enough to detect such a deception.

However, one thing that should be obvious to any man in my situation is that your spouse is unresponsive to you, sexually and otherwise. As such, I found myself trying to discover why. Her being a lesbian was the furthest thing from my mind, at least during the first few years of our marriage. So I immediately starting asking myself, 'why is my wife, who I loved so much, ignoring me?

Initially, I thought my wife was not attracted to me, physically. She was sexually impotent with me, and this puzzled me. So, I began to exercise very aggressively and intensely. This would include such activities as weightlifting and long distance bicycling.

While rather puny when I got married, I developed into quite a attractive and sturdy young man. This was all to please my wife and gain her affection. I improved my diet and continued these exercise habits until the age of 40.

Since this didn't increase her intimacy toward me, I began to wonder if she wanted me to make more money. The first six or so years of our marriage, I barely made more than minimum wage. We were very poor, and in debt.

So, I somehow became a corporate executive with one of the largest and most respected pharmaceutical corporations in the world. Soon after this, my lesbian spouse and I were set, financially. Unfortunately, this was not the answer to her lack of affection towards me, either.

My last hope at discovering why my lesbian spouse was so apathetic was that I was not treating her the way I should. Now, I was a patient caregiver for about a dozen years- I always thought I was one of the nicest and caring individuals that existed.

But, I was determined to discover why my wife was so emotionally vacant. So, I tried to become a more gentle and effective lover with her. In addition, I tried very hard to assure her of my own love.

I'd kiss her, and really mean it, with my love for her. I'd be very polite with her always- a gentleman constantly. Unfortunately, this transformation did not alter her behavior towards me.

In the years that followed, I noticed my wife taking what I view as an unusual interest in other women. In fact, I would classify her relationships with some other women as intimate. To this day, I do not know if my wife had sexual relationships with those women.

So the year is now 2003, and my wife has yet to acknowledge her homosexual tendencies. We are raising our daughter at this point, so her behavior towards other women was becoming even more of a concern. I insisted that she seek professional help.

She only saw a psychiatrist and therapist a few times. She never confided in me so I visited the same psychiatrist. He told me that my wife was in fact a lesbian, and that it would destroy me in time if I did not divorce her.

It is now the year 2005. At this point, I was not really shocked. By 2006, I had given up on our relationship. Rather than act , I just shut down almost completely. My career ended, and I stopped exercising.

Interestingly, our sex life actually improved a great deal. It appears that my knowing she was a lesbian may have given her some freedom.

I suffered from severe depression and took refuge in prescription drugs. My wife finally ended our marriage - and she did so by falsely accusing me of domestic violence.

When you love something, or someone, you will discover their secrets.

My now ex wife never hated me for anything I ever did to her. In fact, I was a damn good husband and father. She ...

The number of actions deemed “illegal” continues to grow. Seen through that arbitrary filter that means more individuals who were at one time “law-abiding” are now viewed as “criminals.” That makes it more and more likely that you will see the inside of a jail cell. (Such a trend will continue unless we each stop believing that words put on paper by some strangers make once unjust actions just.) Many people use the time to reflect. Some, like Dan Abshear who authored the below, share their thoughts and writings with others, acting as both an outlet and a way to personalize the harm caused by unquestioning allegiance to the Statist Quo that allows for the mass caging of humans for profit. -Pete, www.copblock.org

In the fall of 2009, I spent over a month in jail, for the first time in my life. To achieve some level of freedom, I wrote, and I wrote a lot. I composed over 20 thousand words while in jail.

Most of these words were letters to Jacki- a girl I dated 25 years ago, and who I lived with after my release from jail. The living arrangement with her lasted about 6 months.

While in jail, one’s mind becomes altered often. There is great misery, with little hope. My state of mind is reflected in what I wrote while there.The following are the letters I wrote to Jacki, while in jail:

WEEK ONE:

I’m starting to get comfortable here, and this frightens me a bit. It’s just that I’m powerless at this point about progressing my case that resulted in me being here now. I have a court date on October 15th, and I will ask to speak on my own behalf to the judge as well as the prosecutor so I can negotiate with them about my situation. I’m very anxious to start my life again. I will do this as I recover from the trauma inflicted upon me, and as I miss my dear Hayley. Both cause me to experience severe intrinsic, and silent, pain.

This is nothing short of unimaginable hell, as this pain I feel is indescribable- it is in fact worse than any kind of chronic torture I can possibly conceive.

I was chatting with a deaf kid named William here in jail with me. We got here on the same day, and he needs a lawyer as well as me. William may be going to prison for theft.

I’m cutting out words from various magazines on this Friday night to use when I write Hayley the next time. These letters that she and I are doing back and forth are really making me very happy in the midst of great misery.

It’s Saturday morning now, and I just got off the phone with you. I’ll be thinking of your voice all day, and for the days to come. Do not worry about me, please. I can and do take care of myself. Jail is jail. It is not suppose to be enjoyable.

I’ve told my story to more than one here in jail about the circumstances of my divorce. They were surprised at the lack of retaliation for injuries perceived or otherwise.

Many are violent here, of course. This explains why law enforcement dudes automatically presumed that I was violent. Violent because of those who are my fellow inmates now. Many are very mean.

We finally got to go to the library today here in jail. I got some magazines. No dirty magazines here, I’m sorry to say. There is also a law library here in jail, and I’ll request to go to this library soon.

It’s Saturday night, and I called a friend of mine from high school a moment ago. I asked him to contact our other friends from high school to try and get me a legal agent. he and these other friends have had legal issues in the past of their own, and they know legal agents as a result.

I’ll not be able to mail this letter to you till Tuesday. This gives me two full days to continue to write to you, and revise what I write. I tend to do this often.

I’ve felt a need tonight to hold Molly (my ex-wife) and my daughter Hayley, and cry with them. This hate that has infected Molly needs to be treated in such a way. It needs to be cured by love.

I’ll never have my family back again, and I have to learn to live with this. But I’m compelled to fight evil such as this in my life now whenever I possibly can. Always. It hurts.

It’s Sunday morning here in jail, and I just shared some candy with other inmates. This elevated my popularity greatly, cause I really do not fit in here with them, overall.

Justin takes a particular interest with you here in jail, as I speak of you to him often. He is a 25 year old good looking guy, and he is a new dad. His son was born as he is in jail with me.

He witnessed me illuminate when I first heard from you here in jail. And I showed him letters you sent me that I wrote to you way over 20 years ago, which I find incredible, what I wrote.

WEEK TWO:

The following is a continuation of notes I composed ...

"I think the school staff were man-haters, and resented me because, as a doting father, I upset their prejudices. They thought incest was the only possible explanation for a father's love."








by Dan Abshear
(henrymakow.com)

In January 2007, staff at my eight-year-old daughter's public school in Missouri interrogated her for an hour to determine if I had molested her. There was absolutely no reason for them to do this.

I worked out of my home at the time and largely raised my daughter, while my now ex-wife worked. I had established rituals during her school days.
These included taking her to our favorite local doughnut shop in the morning and often bringing lunch to her at school.

During my visits to my daughter's school. I always found the teachers to be very warm and kind people.

However, the administrative staff were rather distant judging by their body language, and their unwillingness to interact with me. They were mostly middle-aged women.

On one unforgettable day, they interrogated my daughter for about an hour. When I picked her up, she was crying.

She said she was asked leading questions such as, "did your daddy ever touch you there? Do you think your daddy likes touching you there?" The answer to such questions was 'no,' of course.

I spoke with her for hours that night, which was difficult for me. In the days that followed, she did not appear permanently scared by that interrogation.

My daughter was completely unaware that parents were even capable of such acts described in graphic detail by school staff.

There was no evidence for these allegations. My daughter was and is a straight "A" student, and an incredibly balanced individual. What caused my daughter's school to make these outrageous charges and traumatize my daughter remains unknown to me this this day.

WIFE BRUSHES IT OFF

Her mother was unresponsive regarding these false allegations.

An expected reaction might have been one of shock and disbelief.
Instead she displayed apathy.

My then wife, who was in fact a radical feminist lesbian, and likely a psychopath, became good friends with the rather attractive female principal of this school in the following weeks.

Her behavior was the first red flag that she posed a danger to myself and my family.

I started to research the legalities and learned that schools get a lot of money from the government for prosecuting fathers like myself, regardless if he is guilty or innocent. I realized that I might go to prison if this situation were not resolved.

So I sent some legally threatening emails to the principal including a threat to sue the school district and contact the media. They dropped it and I continued to have lunch with my daughter at her school.

On one occasion, I returned home to find a police officer waiting for me.

The police officer told me to stop going to my daughter's school, because school staff told the police I had a 'threatening disposition'.

I stopped going. I think the school staff were man-haters, and resented me because, as a doting father, I upset their prejudices. They thought incest was the only possible explanation for a father's love.

UPDATE

Due to her mother implementing parental alienation, I've not see or spoken to my now 13-year-old daughter in almost two years now. On Father's Day, she sent me an email. (Excerpt:"My braces r off and my hairs long. I'm also 5'8 now!!!")

All things considered, she sounded really good. I continue to hand write Hayley once a week, and send her money when I can. Rarely does she write back, but I still continue to write her.

The email absolutely made my day, and decreased my sadness about the absence of my daughter, greatly. I suffer from chronic depression due to my daughter being gone from my life right now

In August of 2009, my wife of 20 years filed false claims against me of violently abusing her one unforgettable day that month.

The restraining order insanely issued against me due to these false claims remains in effect to this day, and likely will for quite some time.

I remain homeless and unemployed due to this viscious act committed by my former spouse.

Molly, my now ex wife, did this in order to acquire a tactical advantage in a divorce she clearly wants that I was completely unaware of until she filed this retraining order against me that prevents me from having any contact whatsoever with my daughter as well, whose name is Hayley.

The pain from this particular strike against me is indescribable.

My wife told her free army of legal professionals that she suspects that child abuse was happening by me against Hayley. This particular claim is far more absurd than the abuse claims Molly made about me, which included a claim by Molly that I tried to kill her one night.

So of course, I ended up in jail in the first time of my 43 years soon after these false allegations were made against me by Molly.The second night I was in jail, I decided to write Hayley a letter.

Now, writing Hayley fractures the restraining order falsely issued against me, since this is contacting Hayley in this manner. But since I was already in jail, I really was not concerned about breaking this abusive enforcement of psychotic laws now against me.

As I wrote her that night, I was not the fun dad I usually am with Hayley due to my state of mind. However, I never wrote anything to Hayley indicating hatred or anger towards her mother, Molly. Nor did I, in my words to Hayley, debate her mother's false accusations against me.

My undergrad is in child psychology, and I learned with my education that it is never a good idea to attack a parent in any way during a split of the parents, which is what is happening with our family right now.

So I wrote to Hayley that I will always love her mother because her mother gave Hayley to me almost 12 years ago. This is the woman who put me in jail.

I also wrote to Hayley that the destruction happening to our family right now is difficult to understand for both of us, but we should try and grasp this situation together in time. I told Hayley with my writing to her that I loved and missed her, and that I hoped she would write me back soon.I mailed this letter to her grandparent's house.

These are Molly's parents, and are very wonderful people who have been married for more than 60 years. They understand the importance of a father in a child's life. I only mailed this letter to Hayley after trading my breakfast the next day in order to get a stamped envelope from another inmate.

Hayley wrote me back soon afterwards, and I was thrilled beyond belief. Yet her letter understandably was cautious. She shared a bit with me about school and her friends.

What really got me was the end of her letter to me: P.S. Daddy- everything is going to be OK, no matter what....

I cried when I read this from her. She understands more than I fully realize about my own frame of mind, and what is happening to our family right now. I shed tears as I recall this that she wrote. She wrecked her father, and this is not the first time.

So my next letter to Hayley was much more jovial than my initial letter to herear Hayley....Hey, guess what? We are pen pals now.....YAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!Then I went on to tell her how cool she is. I discussed what she wanted to be for halloween. I effortlessly made her laugh what I wrote to her in this letter. The words I shared with Hayley came from my heart.

Her next letter to me was much more upbeat. She was thrilled that we were pen pals now. She expressed clearly how happy she was that she was getting mail from her daddy now. This made me comforted greatly. I was at peace with her emotional and mental state now.

The next letter composed by me to Hayley was apparently as enjoyable to her as she read this. The letter included beautiful drawings from Tommy, my cell mate in jail. Hayley put the drawings by Tommy that I mailed to her on her school locker walls, she told me in her writing to me afterwards.

Tommy, my cell mate artist during that time, is a 22 year old homeless guy who was in jail for assault on another adult. He had been homeless for much of his life. And Tommy did have anger issues.

It took me about 2 weeks to gain his trust. Once this happened, I discussed with Tommy more benign outlets for his anger urges, and the importance of thinking before acting. Tommy also has done illegal drugs, so we discussed the impact of such drugs on his health and behavior.

I'm in ...

My name is Dan Abshear, and I am a recovering drug addict.

My substance abuse began with alcohol intake, in my early teens. My mother used to insist me and my older teen brother, also a young teenager, party with her, by getting drunk with her.

My mother would give alcohol to us, and my older brother's many young teenage friends, often. This went on for years. My mother, by the way, should have gone to prision for this, as this is contributing to the delinquency of minors, which is a felony. But, thanks to lazy cops and apathetic neighbors, this never happened.

However,I blame myself for my alcohol addiction, and no other. Like many other recovering drug addicts, I have a very addictive personality. That personality contributed to my abuse of substances such as alcohol.

My drinking continued to be heavy until the age of 37 or so. It was then I broke my back, sleigh riding with my daughter. And it was then, a doctor prescribed me vicodin.

Vicodin is known as an opoid analgesic. Opiates have been abused and used by many, for thousands of years (http://redroom.com/member/dan-abshear/blog/the-euphoric-violet-delight). The effect vicodin had on me was amazing.

Because, at least in my case, vicodin not only takes care of physical pain, but emotional pain as well. The drug provided a much wanted and welcomed euphoria in my life.

For those of you who are familiar with the T.V. show, "House". This is what Dr. House abuses, throughout the show.

So, while on vicodin, I stopped drinking, and started exercising intensely. I was able to do this, because I was pain free on vicodin. In fact, I got in the best shape of my life, while I continuously consumed more and more vicodin.

But, within two years, I was a full blown opiate addict. My tolerance increased with that drug, rapidly, so it seemed. I was taking between 10 and 20 high dose tablets a day, at the height of my addiction to this drug.

And, the euphoria I initially experienced with vicodin also faded to the point where it was unnoticeable. But, I kept taking vicodin, because withdrawals were not welcome, when I did not have vicodin in my system.

So, in the year of 2004 now, and I'm at a doctor convention with work. For many years, I did pharmaceutical sales, for very large pharmaceutical corporations. I'm at work with a younger guy, who noticed the tiredness and boredom of myself, and a couple of others, at this convention. This younger guy had some adderall on him, and offered a tablet to me, and a couple of others at this meeting.

Adderall is basically long acting amphetamines, used to treat ADD and narcolepsy. I had heard of the drug before, but never chose to take it. But, since I was a vicodin addict at this point in my life, I thought I would give it a try, and took the adderall pill at that doctor convention.

The effects of adderall were amazing. That night, my mind was at maximum efficiency, I felt. I began to write, and I wrote all night. It was as if adderall awakened these dormant neurons in my brain. I absolutely loved this drug.

It also initially increased my sex drive. While I had a high sex drive already, adderall initially intensified my orgasms. That combined with what I preceived to be maximum cognitive efficiency, I had found a new drug to love.

As with vicodin, I began to increase my intake of adderall as tolerance developed, while high on this drug. Also, with my adderall use, I did not sleep. In time, I started to experience hallucinations.

So I went to my favorite doctor who had been prescribing vicodin and adderall to me, and asked him for some benzodiazapines, better known as tranquilizers.

Benzos, as they are called, work on the GABA inhibitors in the brain- the same area of the brain that is affected by alchohol intake. So while on benzos, not only did I sleep, but I felt like I was drunk on this drug, on this class of drugs, which I also ended up abusing aggressively, of course.

Memory loss was a problem at this point in my life, and benzos made my memory problems much worse.

I'd say, from the years 2006 to 2009, my life is a blur. I recall very little, during this period in my life. This is all do to my enormous drug intake, from these drugs in particular.

My lovely wife at the time wanted me high on drugs all the time. We had marital issues she did not want to address. While high on drugs, I did not address these rather significant issues in our marriage. Because while high on drugs, I stopped caring about anyone, or anything.

She wanted me that way, completely full of these drugs I ended up abusing so badly, so she would go to her own doctor, and get me these drugs I was addicted to quite badly. ...

Whistles blowers aren't always celebrated.
Sometimes they're crushed.

"There is a pathologically intimate relationship between corporations and the U.S. government- their collusion is expressed in the revolving door. "


by Dan Abshear
(for henrymakow.com)


In the Spring of 2006, I became a pharmaceutical corporate whistle blower.



In February of that year, I had recruited a law firm with experience in pharmaceutical whistle blower lawsuits in Boston, which is a top place to file and submit pharmaceutical whistle blower cases. They agreed to represent me after I submitted a ten page document to them I composed- explaining why the wrongdoing of my employer, Novartis Pharmaceuticals, needed to be addressed. They represented me on complete contingency, which meant that they would not be paid if they did not succeed in the whistle blower lawsuit they were submitting for me.



The law firm submitted the whistle blower lawsuit against Novartis in April of 2006. And it was filed under seal, which means that I and my legal council cannot discuss the case whatsoever. It's a trick played by the D.O.J., to eliminate the possibility of media contact.



I made a trip to Boston in July of 2006 to be asked hundreds of questions by various relevant government entities, such as the department of health and human services. Also, in the center of a large table in a conference room, was a phone, with numerous attorney generals from various states- all there to hear my answers to the hundreds of questions I was asked one day, for 8 hours. I spoke with complete knowledge of the evidence, and with total honesty.



Novartis hired me at the end of 2001 as one of their many sales representatives. At that time, I had already worked for two of the top pharmaceutical corporations in the world, which were Merck and Pharmacia Corporation. The game is the same no matter which pharmaceutical corporation one may work for as a sales representative.



That game, as a pharmaceutical representative, is bribing doctors: hiring doctors to be on the payroll of the pharmaceutical corporation.



In the years I worked for Novartis, I received above average raises yearly. I received numerous awards from Novartis. I was very well liked and respected. Novartis gave me a company car, I normally only worked half-days. I was viewed as an expert as a pharmaceutical sales representative. I was often asked to train other new sales representatives. This was vocational bliss.



So, why would I even consider reporting wrongdoing by them, if they treated me so well? Was I insane?



WIDESPREAD CORRUPTION

In the year 2003, I discovered CafePharma. CafePharma is basically an online venting board for pharmaceutical representatives. Such representatives who post on this board often do so with overt anger and disgust. My uneasiness about bribing doctors was validated by what representatives from many pharmaceutical companies wrote on this board. The money we paid targeted doctors are kickbacks. By paying such doctors, we as sales representatives are violating the federal anti-kickback statute.



As sales reps with large pharmaceutical corporations, the more doctors you acquire n your territory, the more you assure your career with your employer. You are told as nauseum by your employer to seek and pay targeted doctors.



With Novartis, they took things a step further: They sent instructions to their sales force to remind doctors paid by representatives that they are obligated to prescribe Novartis pharmaceuticals whenever possible. This, of course, potentially clouds the clinical judgments of such doctors, and as a result, adversely affects the restoration of health obligated by the health care provider.



The year now was 2004, and I had had enough. I had enough of Novartis threatening the members of their sales force. Each representative was given a promotional budget. Often, this budget was several thousand dollars per month. The unspoken rule was, each representative has to spend all their budget, or else. It was this year I started to read books written by those experts critical of the pharmaceutical industry. I began to become very uncomfortable about the industry I represented.



Also, in 2004, I started to collect evidence in the form of internal documents- accessible only to Novartis employees, and not intended to be viewed by others. Documents illustrating the coercion by Novartis to its sales force to spend their promotional budgets. Documents in the form of ...

As of today, I've been homeless for a bit over two and a half years.



Right after becoming homeless, I tried to stay with friends. But that never seemed to be a comfortable situation for me. Such friends did not understand how I became homeless, so my relationship with such friends was often fractured, I'm sad to say. Such friends also included former lovers. No situation staying with such friends ever worked. My stay with such friends was often brief, and unpleasant for me.



So, I began staying at a homeless shelter.- specifically, a shelter contracted by the veterans administration because, by definition, I am a homeless veteran. This meant I was living with several other people, at the same location. It's community living, and this is something I had not experienced since my days in the military.



For the past several months, I've been staying at a Salvation Army. The VA contracted a floor at this salvation army for homeless veterans who are recovering drug addicts. In addition to being homeless, I am also a recovering drug addict. This floor holds about 40 homeless veterans. It is a comfortable place to stay. At this location, the homeless veterans have three TVs, four refrigerators, two microwaves, two phones, and two computers.



In addition to the salvation army providing meals for us, we as homeless veterans also often have food stamps. We would often buy additional food for us to have where we lived, to supplement the meals provided to us where we stayed, with these food stamps. So, with many homeless veterans at this location, obesity was a problem.



This obesity experienced by many other veterans staying with me at the salvation army was not only due to the additional food available to these now overweight homeless veterans, but also due to the medication these veterans would often take, as prescribed to them by their VA psychiatrists, often. Such medications would often cause them to gain weight.



Many veterans I stay with at this salvation army were trying to get disability benefits, for mental illnesses. So, they would be diagnosed with various mental health disease states by their VA psychiatrists, and take these often toxic mediations, as prescribed to them. Whether or not such veterans actually had such mental illnesses is a topic of debate. Regardless, because they wanted mental health disability benefits, they would be diagnosed with a variety of mental health illnesses, and take often many drugs for these illnesses.



Usually, the TVs at the salvation army where we stayed were designated for specific reasons, by the veterans. One TV would be for those who wish to watch sports. Another TV would be dedicated to those veterans who wished to watch the news or TV shows. And another TV would be dedicated for those who wish to watch movies.



Often, the homeless veterans would get bootleg DVD movies. These would be movies currently playing in theatres would be acquired by some veterans, on DVD disks. Don't ask me how certain veterans acquired these movies, but it was nice watching current movies, where I stayed.



Myself, I never watched much TV, so I was on the computers at this location often. Many I stayed with at this salvation army were not very literate, so they did not utilize the computers available to us, at the salvation army. During the long days at the salvation army, I would look for jobs on these computers, and often help many other homeless veterans write whatever they may want written. This would include letters such veterans wanted to receive additional VA benefits, cover letters they wanted me to create for certain jobs they wanted, or letters to lawyers, often. I did not mind helping my fellow veterans, in this way.



Most homeless people, including homeless veterans, smoke. We call cigarettes squares, and acquiring cigarettes is often a main goal for us smokers, since most of us do not have any money on us at all. As a general rule, I'll ask for cigarettes from those homeless veterans who do have some sort of income, and smoke. And, if I happen to get some money and have cigarettes, I'll share these cigarettes with others. I've been known to find cigarette butts on the ground, and smoke those.



Making money as a homeless person is often difficult, because we, as homeless people, are often unemployable for a variety of reasons. Any money I've made as a homeless person has been untraceable, which is money paid to me under the table. Such jobs may include cleaning an athletic stadium. Or helping a political candidate get elected.



Such opportunities ...

My fiancee Carol lives near me now, finally, but I still hand write her letters often, and mail these with a card to her. Daily, I fortunately speak with her on the phone, or chat with her often on the computer.

But something happens, when I write her these letters. I access something within me, as I share words with her. When I write Carol, I open a vein, and bleed my heart and soul on the paper.

Three years ago, the life as I know it got destroyed by others, with deliberate intent. Since then, I've wrote several essays, illustrating the pain I've experienced since then, as well as circumstances involved with my destruction.

Most of what I write to Carol now deals with where I live, which is a homeless shelter for military veterans. Also, I write about how I feel about Carol now. Here are a few letters I've written Carol recently:

Saturday morning

Hi Baby,

I'm serving breakfast for the boys this morning, so I thought I'd write you once again.

I'm again sorry I got on this restriction here. I have two beers at an applebees, and the folks here think I had this huge relapse, due to a positive urine drug screen I did. You and I will get through these next few weeks, and then we will be fine. And I won't drink beer anymore.

I'm glad these people here have computers, and I'm able to chat with you so often. I've also cranked out a few essays, since I've been staying here. I got here in February of this year. Anyway, I need to do some more writing, so give me something to write about sometime.

You had a really bad day yesterday, so I hope you are doing better today. I'll get on the computer here soon, and chat with you then.

I hope your mom made it back OK last night from Las Vegas, and I'd like to meet her sometime. Maybe sometime after my restriction here, I'll be able to meet her then. I'm glad I met your ex husband last weekend. He seems like he is an alright guy- at least now. I'm also glad he cares about you now.

Yesterday, I sent my mom an email, wishing her happy birthday, and happy mother's day. Her birthday is today. I also sent her pictures of you and I, from last Tuesday. I'm glad she sold my truck, and sent me the money from that.

That money got us some very decent lunches together, and a fantastic room at the magical Super 8, near where you live now, last weekend. It is so beautiful and peaceful there. And I really like the girl who shared a room with me there.

OK- I've enjoyed writing you again. And, we will chat soon online. I love you very much,

Dan

Thrusday night

Hi Baby,

I'm working the desk here right now, so I thought I'd write you once again.

My day was pretty good today. Earlier, I enjoyed chatting with you on the computer. And, I like going to the VA hospital here. For one thing, I like getting out of this place. Normally, I find people I know there to hang out with for awhile, when I'm not at a meeting at this hospital. And I like the staff at this hospital, especially those who conduct the meetings I attend there.

Just got off the phone with you, and you sounded really good, and happy. I'm also glad your daughter Carolyn is spending some time with you tonight.

Earlier today, I got a new sport coat in the clothing room they have where I now stay. The clothing room is pretty big, and since no one here but me wears sport coats every day, there are a lot of sport coats in this room for me to get.

And many of these coats are fairly new, so i'll grab them from this room as I need them. Benjamin is a 21 year old kid who works in this clothing room, helping us find what we may need from there. He and I became friends in the computer room here. So he lets me help myself, when I want to go in this clothing room here.

The only good thing about this place I now stay is the computers here. At least I get to chat with my girl all the time, due to these computers.

We got a guy who stays here who delivers mail for the post office. He thinks it is very cool that I hand write you all of these letters, and mail these to you with a card so often. He and I both agree that doing this is a lot more personal then just talking online, for example.

Most guys I stay with here know about you in my life now. If you have not met them already, they have seen you with me here. The staff here also knows about you. A girl I know who works in the kitchen here was asking about you not long ago.

Most guys who live here do not have a girlfriend, and have not had a girlfriend in many years. So you and I are kind of unique to many at this location. I consider myself very lucky to have you in ...

The following are handwritten letters to my daughter, Hayley, soon after her mother kicked me out of her life, quite violently. Presently, Hayley has a lot of anger and hatred towards me, due to the lies told to her by her mother, and likely others.

These letters were written to her by me about 3 years ago. Presently, I continue to hand write Hayley letters at least once a week. Nothing will ever keep me from loving my daughter:

This letter was written immediately after Hayley's mother had me evicted from my own house, and after I was in jail due to false allegations against me, by Hayley's mother-

Dear Hayley,

Since I’m unable to send you letters right now in the mail, I’ve decided to write you anyway. What I do write to you I will give you in time, I promise.

I also write often about you, Hayley. I write about my thoughts and feelings I have- and how thankful I am that you are in my life. This life. When I do write about you, I share this with others. These others care about you as well- quite a bit.

Your dad likes to shout from the rooftop of the world when he writes. When I write about you, I acquire the words I write solely from my heart. So when I’m on this rooftop when I do write about you, I whisper in silence- which is the peace in my heart.

Yet others hear my whispers quite deeply at times- and quite clearly. As a result, I’ll continue to retrieve these words to you within me.

Let’s see….we will start when you were born. You clearly did not want to come out of mom just yet, although you were due a week before you were born. So you were ready to be born, but were apparently a bit too comfortable inside Mom.

Yet mom certainly would be more comfortable at that time if you were finally born, so it happened finally after 17 hours of sheer bliss experienced by Mom.

And you were wide awake when you were born, Hayley, and this is the only way to be in life. This was very cool for your dad to see you this way seconds after you were born. You were very ready to start living your life right after getting born. I enjoyed seeing you this way then as I do now.

Mom was a bit sore after delivering you, so I got to hang out with you a lot after you were born. We would go out on the back deck of our house very early in the morning and listen to the birds as we would watch them fly at times. And I have not stopped enjoying spending time with you ever since then.

Then, after 4 months, I experienced the best feeling in the world. I made you laugh.

I continued to make you laugh after that moment. This was very easy for me to do. I absolutely love to see you smile. Whenever I may be having a bad day, I’d come home and see you. At that point, I was no longer having a bad day.

Also, I use to drink a lot of adult beverages before you were born. I stopped doing this soon after you came into my life. I no longer needed to poison myself with such drinks.

When I drank, I was not myself at all, and I wanted and needed to be myself around you. I’m very happy I am myself around you and with you always. Quite simply, your dad rocks.

You always watch what I do, I learned quickly. So your dad is a fairly nice guy. I’ll often hold the door for another. I always say ‘please’, and ‘thank you’, to others I speak with often. I always try and help others that need help.

You watched when I would do such things. As a result, you do these same things for others. You are very polite and kind, Hayley. I could not ask for anything else.

I love you very much,

Dad


This is a letter I wrote my daughter Hayley, after another warrant was issued for my arrest due to her mother in the state of Missouri, and her free legal team’s desire to keep me incarcerated.

The warrant is again for violating the restraining order issued against me by her mother. I did nothing to fracture this bogus order against me.

The letter was composed by me during my bus trip down to Atlanta Georgia-

Dear Hayley,

I’m on a trip right now, Hayley. Others want to put me in jail again- even though I’ve done nothing wrong. So I’m leaving today to move to another state. It’s my hope to start my life over again where I move.

And I still miss you greatly, Hayley. I miss hugging you and talking to you. And I will see you when I can, I promise.

It is likely you are now as tall as me now, I bet. You are a very beautiful girl. You are as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, Hayley.

Please tell me about school sometime. I love when you write to me about school, and the friends you have as well. I’d also like you to write about how you are feeling ...