The ladder.

[r0ckox]

This is my second attempt at creating a journal... my first one got a little bit crazy, and I don't like reading through it. I did fairly well with it though. kept it up for a good 4 months.

 

I've dubbed this one as "The ladder" because by the time I'm finished here... I wan't to be at the top of my life, in all aspects. My friendships, my business, my relationships, my entire world needs to feel like I've climbed up a ladder and am now at the top looking down.

 

It begins at step one.

 

It's been a long, long windy road for me. I'm 24 years old, and right now I'm at one of the worst parts in my life. (emotionally)

All my confidence (if i ever had any) is now gone. My self esteem has been shattered, and my self-worth ran away with it's tail between it's legs years ago.

This is a problem for me.

It's pretty much been a problem for as long as I could remember.

I just don't know how to change all of this. Hopefully this journal will be a way of doing so.

 

I guess we'll start with what's brought me here... this is actually my second username, as I'm done with my original one.

At the very tip of the iceberg... I'm here because I'm extremely lonely and depressed over a girl who's been in my life.

It's a very long and complicated story, and I guess the only logical thing is to be completely honest about it all.

 

It started in 2004. I had just moved with my old-man to my now step-mother's house about 30 minutes away from where I "grew up."

I still had an address in my old town, so I was able to commute to the school I had always attended.

Either way, living out in the new town put a huge damper on any social life I was able to lead. Weekends were the only time I was able to hang out with anyone until I was able to drive on my own.

I had joined a website called "buddy pic" in hopes of meeting new people in my area.

 

I stumbled accross a few local girls, and one of them caught my eye above all else. She only had a picture of her face up. But her eyes... they were stunning. When I looked at her eyes, it did something to me.

I had to meet her, so I messaged her and we pretty much hit it off right away.

We moved the conversation to AIM, and within a few weeks I had her phone number, and we agreed to meet in person. She lives on the other side of the island, bordering queens.

At the time, we were 17 with no cars. As luck would have it, her best friend worked in the area I hung out the most at, so she was able to come out and meet me where I was.

When we first met, I realized why she had only had pictures of her face up. Her body wasn't exactly average; but I didn't care. It wasn't her looks that I was interested in... it was who she was after we started talking that really got me. (Yes, I'm aware I said her eyes are the reason I messaged her in the first place)

Anyway, from there we spent the night walking around the village chatting and getting to know each other. By the end of the night, she had made the first move on me and we shared a kiss.

From there, within a few days I had asked her to be my girlfriend, and we "dated" for a month where we only hung out on the weekends.

We talked on the phone almost every night.

Eventually, i started to realize that I had feelings for her, and this scared me so I started looking for a way out. I pretty much was looking for her to end it with me, because I didn't know how to do it myself.

I started to mis-treat her. Nothing too major though, small things... like she'd want to talk on the phone and I'd tell her I'd rather talk on AIM or text... she'd ask to hang out with me but I'd tell her I was busy when I wasn't... things like that.

Eventually, she came to me and asked if I really wanted it with her, and I had told her yes... because I did... but my feelings were still scaring me.

 

One day, I finally broke it off with her. She had been annoying me on the phone, and I had hung up on her twice, but she kept at it so I flipped out and broke up with her. She didn't put up much of a fight about it.

A year of NC later, she gets in touch with me to tell me she couldn't forget me. We became friends again. She had been involved with another guy, so nothing really happened with us. Although every time we hung out, we'd end the night with a goodbye kiss.

She eventually broke up with the guy, and she made it clear over the course of a few years that she wanted to get back together with me... however my life at the time couldn't allow it.

I was involved with bad people, doing bad things. I didn't want her to become part of my bad world, so I pretty much ignored her when it came down to getting "serious" and starting a relationship. (She never actually said it, but her actions told me something else, and she later on admitted that she's tried to get back with me more than once.)

She kept at it over the years. She kept showing up and showing interest. Over time I realized that this girl wasn't like the rest... she was special.

 

Anyway, in the summer of 2009, my mind-set had changed, and I became more confident in my ability to be able to give her what she wanted, and we started the dreaded "talking" phase...where basically we'd talk every night on the phone, but wouldn't be seeing each other, and we weren't in a labeled relationship or anything.

This lasted until about April 10, where I had finally had enough and sent her packing. During the course of the 9 months we spent talking, she was extremely confusing, and was no longer the same girl I had fallen in love with over the years. She told me she wanted me to be ready for a relationship with her, but her actions told me something else....

She'd hang up on me and ignore me for days, she'd never spend any time with me but would get jealous if she heard other girl's around me, she'd lie to me and force me into the mindset of "she doesn't care."

I tried to talk to her several times during all of this, and she'd never give me any real answers, and I'd just be stuck wondering.

I had literally walked through hell trying to figure her out, and stressed myself out to the point of obsession.

There were a few times where I got so aggravated with her, I had "bugged out" at her via text / email and told her that we couldn't be friends anymore. Never once did we have an argument in person, or did I yell at her or show up at her house or job or anything. It was all text-message stuff.

 

Each time I had bugged out, or tried to throw her out of my life, we always ended up talking it out - but overall, nothing was ever fixed. I ended up extremely hurt and pretty much shattered, because this was a girl I thought I knew, and for all these years she's been the one person I could trust, and it turned out I couldn't.

 

basically - for years she acted like she had some kind of feelings for me, and acted like she wanted to get back together with me, and when I tried to make that happen, she ran away and it never happened. In fact, she never even gave me a chance.

After April 10, she came back a month later and we patched things up. She acted like she wanted to fix things, and I started to believe her and trust her again. A month later she pulled the same crap and ignored me and blew off our plans over absolutely nothing, and I got rid of her again.

 

She came back a month later, and since then - nothing has changed. I'm still hurt over the way she acted for the last 2 years, and she doesn't seem to understand that she did anything wrong. She acts like because she FINALLY gave me an answer of "I'm not ready, I can't give you what you want right now" that that's supposed to make all my hurt go away, like I didn't understand or something.

Well, I didn't understand because she lacks communication skills, and never once opened up to me about anything other than what she's dealing with health-wise.

She now tells me that she can't give me what I want, because of her health - which I won't get into right now.

Point being, is that this is the first time I've actually gotten a real answer. It took her a year and a half to say that to me, when this whole time she's been telling me different stories when I'd try and talk to her about "us".

 

Anyway -- after all of that.... that's the reason I initially came here in the first place.

I walked through hell trying to get a girl to date me, or actually to just spend some freaking time with me, that it's crippled me mentally / emotionally.

I came here looking for answers. All the answers were the same. "she's crazy, get the hell away from her! she's using you and playing you hardddd" and so on.

 

The first step in the ladder is to find a way to get over this emotional torment I've been put through.

Over the course of my journaling, I'll be opening up alot about my own personal issues and hope to find a way to overcome all of them.... these issues range from Acceptance problems, to lack of self-esteem, to drugs and alcohol, strippers, money, all kinds of things. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to justify every single one, but that's not really the point of this....

 

It begins now.

 

Step one: Overcoming.

[r0ckox]

Alcohol and drug use have been a big part of my life since I was the ripe old-age of 15.

Before then, growing up was kind of difficult on me, as not many people wanted to be my friend. The "cool kids" hated me, girls wouldn't look at me, and really the only people that befriended me were people just like me. They were all on the "nerdy" side, although I was not. We were the short skinny kids. We spent all our time on our computers playing video games and things like that.

I look back on all that now, and I know it sounds trivial and stupid, but most of you know how it is when you're a kid going into their teenage years. You want to be accepted, want to be labeled as "cool" and be popular.

Hell, my first ever "girlfriend" was some girl from Texas who I met on AOL. (the original)

That lasted but so long before she decided she didn't like me anymore, and eventually stopped talking to me. I tried repeatedly to figure out what had happened, but her "sister" kept coming to the computer saying she's sick and doesn't want to talk to me. Eventually I was told to leave her alone and never come back.....so I did just that.

After realizing that I was going nowhere with my current friends’, and feeling left out to die as one of the outcasts, I came to understand the magic of Alcohol and Drugs.

 

I'll never forget my first time drinking. I was with my long-time buddy Andy. He was my friend from when I was 11 until about 17. One day when I was 15, we went over to his friend's house where I took 3 shots of tequila. Before I knew it, it was a couple hours later and I was outside socializing with people I'd never met when normally I was very quiet and reserved. I was happy as hell and they seemed (at the time) to take to me lightly. I look back now and realize they probably thought I was just some babbling drunk kid, but whatever. It just felt so good to be "happy" and not feel left out. I was able to open up and finally felt like "one of the boys" - and man...that following day...the hangover killed me.

 

Soon after, Andy and I went to the same guy's house where I smoked weed for the first time. Man oh man, the way I laughed at everything, and the way I felt so good is a feeling I'll never be able to replace. Things just felt so "right" for the first time... I began to wonder why I haven't walked down that path sooner.

Unfortunately, as time grew on, I realized that even though I was having fun with my new found lifestyle, things still didn’t feel “good enough.” I realized that whenever I’d hang with Andy and his friends, they always had something to talk about… some good old “remember when” stories.. something that I knew I wasn’t going to be a part of. All we really did was sit somewhere and smoke so nothing fun ever happened. The issues I had in the past with being accepted started to rise up again, after realizing that they only wanted to hang out with me if I had money to get stoned, and I quickly got rid of Andy and his group of pals I went to school with. I set on a mission to find new friends, people I felt comfortable with and could have some of my own “remember when” stories.

 

The good times started rolling in after that. I eventually found my “crew”, and we’d spend almost every chance we could together….drinking, smoking, laughing, hanging out. For the first time in my life, I finally felt accepted. I finally felt like this was where I belonged. I even got myself a “girlfriend” while I was at it. Her name was heather, and I met her one night in the village while I was searching for some weed. She and her friend were looking for some too, but somehow we hit it off without finding any. We exchanged numbers and soon after we “dated” for all of about a month. Naturally, our relationship was based off of Alcohol and Drugs. After our month was up, she had to go away for the rest of the summer with her family, and we agreed to “break up” until she came back. Once she came back, we never really hooked back up officially, but found ourselves meeting up occasionally to get high and make out and stuff. Mind you, this is the girl I lost my virginity too. Not like that makes a difference, but just thought I’d throw that out there.

 

After I had moved to my step-mother’s town following that summer, things started to slowly die down. My “crew” was breaking up, I’d only be around for the weekends, and the good times we all had that previous summer seemed to be nothing but a distant memory. We tried hard to fight the inevitable…to re-create that summer again…but it just didn’t happen. Things weren’t the same, and soon after I found myself branching off into other areas.

Around that time, the beginning of the end, I had met my next “girlfriend” whom I spoke of in my previous entry. I don’t need to go over the details about her again.

 

After I had broken up with her, things started to get worse for me. I had graduated from weed and pills and things like that, and moved onto cocaine. I got introduced to it by a friend I’ve dubbed as “Blazie”. This was a girl I had met over the summer, who lived locally, and literally spent almost every day with me. We used to smoke all day and all night long, and we were equal partners in our lifestyle. If I didn’t have any money, she’d spot me…and vice versa. We never went anywhere without each other. She literally was my ‘best’ friend. She was a person who understood me, and accepted me for who I was at the time without any failure. I was told that she liked me as more than a friend, several times actually, but she never showed any signs, so nothing ever happened. One day, I had a bunch of weed on me, and we traded a little bit of it for the remainder of another friend’s coke bag.

We then tried it again a week or so later, and then it was all downhill from there.

 

Cocaine became part of our regular routine. We’d go out, drink a little, smoke a little, and always made sure to have enough to end off the night in the “right way.” We turned several of our friends into coke heads right along with us. This isn’t something I’m proud of, but at the time it felt like people had looked up to us, and were following in our footsteps. I was proud of who I was, and the acceptance I felt from within my circle of friends.

 

As most things do, this too had to come to an end. Eventually, I had gotten introduced to a new cocaine dealer through a friend of mine. My usual guy wasn’t able to meet me that day. This guy’s name was Jonny, and I guess he saw some potential in me. Well, that… or he saw that I was spending a hell of a lot of money on the drugs and he wanted some for himself.. *(which is what I REALLY think)* so he got me to quit. He allowed me into his circle of friends, and taught me a new way to live my life. Jonny was a few years older than me, and he was pretty much at the time everything I ever wanted to be as a person. Everything I felt I couldn’t be without the drugs and alcohol. Everywhere we went, he was known. Not just for his cocaine business, but for his personality. Always laughing, joking, having a great time. He had the world by the balls as far as I was concerned.

Instead of sniffing the cocaine, we’d sell it. He’d hook me up with the connection, and I’d do the leg work. For hooking me up with his connection, he required half of my profits. Basically, as he called it, it was a “scratch my back, and I scratch yours” kind of affair. He had promised me that it would only be this way until I got on my feet and was able to handle it all myself.

Eventually, I began to suspect that this was his plan all along. I’d be doing his leg work, risking my freedom, and only got to see half my money for it. Hell, I was even spending the entire cost.

I started to question him, telling him that if he wasn’t going to split the cost with me, then he doesn’t deserve half my profit.

He disagreed, and soon after, I found myself connected with his girlfriend. They had been in a rough patch and split up, so she sold on the side for extra money. I started using her as my connection…and this time, I was able to keep all my money. I didn’t have to give half of it away just for being “hooked up.”

 

During this time, I grew closer to his circle of friends. We were our own little crew, and my old friends like Blazie, and the people who remained in my life after the break up of our old group started to shy away from me. I had changed who I was completely. I dressed different, talked different, and spent my time with my only focus being on money.

I had a full time job at the time, working where I worked now…but it wasn’t enough for me to live the life I always wanted. I began to think I was better than my old friends, like my old friends were “p*ssies” because they had left me to rot away while I was stuck in this new world with no one to turn to. In a way, I now realize that it was me who left them….but at the time it felt the opposite. So, I figured that if they didn’t want to be a part of my life, and just ditch me like that….then who needs them?

 

So that’s where it was. I had my new “crew”, the life (at the time) I thought I wanted, and for the first time ever.. I felt on top of the world.

 

It all came crashing down 2 years later.

[r0ckox]

For the last 8 or 9 years or so, I've placed my self-esteem & self-worth in other people's hands. How many people wanted to be around me, how often they wanted to be there, and if they'd notice whether or not I was no longer around. I've had the ongoing thought that if people didn't want to be around me, then I didn't mean anything to them. This went for women, and my male-friends as well.

This all began when I was about 15 or 16 or so. I was at school and walking in the same area as another friend of mine, Evan. Evan was talking with a friend of his and felt fed up that he was always calling his friends to hang out, but they never called him. He came up with the idea that he would no longer call them, and wait and see how many of his "friends" would actually call him. They say that your "real friends" are the ones who never give up, and are there for you through thick and thin. He wanted to find out who his "real friends" were.

The same thoughts held true with me, although I hadn't actually realized it until Evan brought it up. This was around the time I started to get involved in alcohol and drugs, so I'm not 100% sure on the way I use to think before this.

 

As I became more involved with this "new crew" of mine that I had formed after meeting Jonny, I unintentionally, or subconsciously had this same outlook on my self worth. They were calling me to hang out all the time, but the one thing I had noticed was that when I was no longer around, they weren't calling.

I had gotten fired from my job at the time, and my old-man took away my car, cell phone, and pretty much entire life and sent me over to my mother's house where I sat there for 75 days before getting back on my feet.

My friends had the number to my mother's house, but it only rang once in a while, when it was Jonny calling to bull * * * * and vent his problems on me.

Other than that, my "crew" - or any of my other friends for that matter, didn't even care to see how I was doing.

I sat there day in and day out completely miserable and there wasn't a single person there for me.

In fact, during that 75 day stint sitting at my mothers, Jonny only came to pick me up once, where we just drove around the block a few times so I could sample some new cocaine he had gotten, and tell him whether or not it would be a good hit on our customers.

 

This is where my self-worth within this "crew" started to crumble, because I had eventually realized that now that I didn't have my car, cell phone, or job (***MONEY***) they were no longer interested in being friends with me. This hurt me.

I sat there and let the anger build and build during those 75 days, and I promised myself that when I was done and got back on my feet, things would be different. If they didn't care to be there when I was low, then they don't deserve me to be there back when I was on top.

 

Naturally, after my stint was done, I ended up getting my life back - and the phone began ringing again. The favors were being asked again, the "yo man lets hang out, come get me!" statements were being thrown my way again.

I had to sit back and laugh.....but at the same time, I was so happy to just have my world back that the promise I made myself had been forgotten.

I never really called my "crew" out about the way they just left me high and dry to rot away in my dark room, but deep in the back of my mind, the anger was still there.

 

Now that I think back, I suppose it was a lack of respect that I was feeling. I felt like if they really cared, then they'd have been there when I was low. But they weren't, so I felt they did not respect me.

Eventually, I tried whatever I could to gain my respect back.

 

Jonny and me had started "beefing" over something silly. One day me and 2 of our guys were at a pool hall drinking in the parking lot. They always called him "Juan" for short, as it's actually his god-given name, and on occasion I'd call him that, too. Most of the time it would be when he wasn't around and I was reffering to him about something, but on occasion I'd call him it while he was there, too. He eventually got pissed me at asked me to stop. Later that same day, it slipped out again and he hung up on me.

I never called back.

About an hour later, he called and I didn't hear the phone ring. He left an angry voicemail on my phone talking about how I needed to remember who put him in this F*cking crew, and who the boss really was. He said if I had a problem with that, I could go "see him, b*tch" and he hung up. I took this to heart, as all I did was call him a name his friends had been calling him, too. Big deal, I said Juan and not Jonny. That's your name, idiot.

The 2 guys I was with didn't say much about it, but I felt like they were expecting me to do something about it.

So I had felt I needed to gain my respect back, in order to get my self-worth back.

 

I went over to one of our friend's houses, and there he was making a rap song. It was a diss-record to one of our other friends, and there was room left. I decided to put the voicemail Jonny left me on the song, and then rapped a 10-bar diss against him, knowing that he'd eventually hear it, and we'd duke it out.

My friend who I was visiting at the time seemed proud, and was happy that I had finally gotten on the microphone with him, when he had tried to get me to do so previously.

 

I felt good after making that song. I got some praise for it. A few of our friends liked it, Jonny's ex-girlfriend who I was connected in the drug business liked it, and it actually became a hit. I still remember all the words to this day, and also can remember the feeling that came over me after I had finished rapping the song. It was intense, and it made me proud of myself.

 

Jonny and I didn't speak for a few months after he had found out about it.

 

For a while after that, my self-worth started to deplete again, as this "crew" of mine was still only calling me and asking for favors. Every time we'd hang out, I'd constantly drive them around, constantly pay for alcohol, and felt like they were using me. I felt like I needed to do something bigger than just making the occasional diss-record. I had to do something to prove to them that I was really down with them.

 

One day in February, back in 2007, Jonny had called me up. He told me he wanted to talk to me in person. I knew it was go-time, as this was the first time we've spoken since the rap-song incident. I knew what he was expecting of me, but wasn't sure how I was going to go about it.

I drove over to his house and picked him up. He was with a mutual friend of ours, and right away I knew he would be the mediator if things gotten out of hand.

 

Jonny told me to take him to a park 2 towns over, and the whole ride there he was disrespecting me. He asked me for a cigarette, and told me to keep my pack on the dashboard as he was going to smoke them all. I didn't want to start anything in the car so I complied.

Our mutual friend's face told the whole story. He knew what Jonny's intentions were, as I'm sure they'd talked about it before.

I felt like since he was a friend of mine, at least he could call me and warn me that this was coming. I had asked him and a few other friends a couple times over a few months if Jonny had mentioned me. They always said no.

They knew something I didn't.

So we get to the park, and we walk in the middle. I think this whole thing is because of the diss-record I made, but it turns out that Jonny had gotten pinched selling cocaine to an undercover cop, and blamed me for it. He thought that I had gotten pinched too, and ratted him out.

 

Again, information my "friends" should have shared with me, but never did. (Imagine my self-worth now, finding this out?)

 

Jonny told me that the only way he'd believe I had nothing to do with it, was if I fought him, but the catch was... I had to throw the first punch. He refused to hit me first because if I had already ratted him out about the cocaine, who said I wouldn't rat him out about making the first move in a fight?

So, I took a step back, waited a few seconds and threw my first punch directly at his jaw. It reeled him a bit, and he started swinging back. We ended up on the ground for a few seconds, and then I backed away. I had told him several times I did not want to fight him and that my word should have been good enough. I would never have came out to see him if I had gotten pinched.

Our mutual friend eventually broke it up, and the end result was that I had gotten my respect back. Jonny believed I didn't rat him out, and one of our friends saw me throw the first punch at a man much bigger than I was.

 

We went out for a few beers after the fight. All felt good in my world again.

I felt like I had earned a piece of myself back. I wasn't on top of the world anymore, but I was back on the ladder again.

 

But soon, and I mean very soon, it would all turn to crap again, and I'd be questioning myself, my friends, and everybody around me. My trust was gone, and my heart would sink away, as I made a few of the biggest mistakes of my life.......

[r0ckox]

Being back on the ladder is a step in the right direction. Figuratively and literally.

There's something to look to, to shoot for. Sometimes, the goals may seem silly - but without goals and ambition, what do you have?

I'm learning.

 

The day of the fight between me and Jonny, would be the last time I'd see him for a few months. The following day, he was supposed to get sentanced for his cocaine sales. We stayed out almost all night drinking beers together and remenicing. We both knew that our "crew" had changed, and times weren't what they use to be.

In Jonny's absense, I felt as if I should have taken over the crew. It should have been me who was made "boss."

However, the crew, wasn't really a crew at all; and my feeling of wanting to be at the top turned into a feeling of anxiety and just wanting to fit in.

Nobody in our little circle was able to pull in any money, except for me. I had my full time job, and was selling cocaine on the side.

Unfortunately, in Jonny's absense I fell back into using the drugs instead of selling it. I was getting it so cheap, it was actually affordable.

After a while of that, I started to realize that I wasn't making any profit, and decided to quit the whole thing. The using and the sniffing.

 

During this time, besides things with my crew, I was spending time with a girl we'll dub as J. J was a girl I had met a couple years prior, and we went out on a couple "dates" but nothing progressed because she was younger than me and was kind of a skank. She literally threw herself at me, but I just didn't feel it.

We had gotten back in touch around the time I felt I was back on top of the world.

 

She had a boyfriend at the time, but was seeing me on the side. She'd cheat on him with me... physically, and emotionally; but she just wouldn't leave her boyfriend. She'd go online telling him that she loves him and all this crap, but then would call me and tell me she missed me and wanted to see me. When we kissed for the first time, she told me I had no idea how long she was waiting to do that. I could have had sex with her that night, but she got real drunk and passed out. This thing of ours went on for months, before she finally realized that she was hurting me, and called the whole thing off. We wouldn't speak for a while after that.

 

During this period of time, I was extremely depressed because I couldn't handle the situation. I was getting no respect from my "crew", and was involved with a girl - not woman - who I just wasn't good enough for. It bothered and stressed me out to no end - and pretty soon I had found myself drinking on a much more regular basis. I never really told her about the things that bothered me, I just accepted that I wasn't the guy for her - and tried as hard as I could to move on. Unfortunately that was hard to do, and my anxiety / insecurities came right back.

I began to think that nobody cared about me. I was self-destructing and there wasn't a single person who noticed, and cared to ask if I was alright, or did anything to help make me feel better. So I did what I always did....dealt with it on my own and just let it all go...although I guess I never truly did, because it still pains me to this day.

 

Eventually, I had come in contact with an old friend of mine from back in the weed days. It had been 2 years or so since the last time we spoke. I drove over to his old man's house, picked him up and brought him back to my town. At the time, he was struggling financially and emotionally as well, so we shared a bond. As our friendship began to re-grow, he introduced me to a guy named Peter. This was a person my old friend had met when they were both in the nut-ward together. My friend didn't belong there, his old man just thought since he had no ambition and was clinically depressed that he was crazy.

This guy Peter was a schitzo, which I found out much later - but at the time, he talked a good game.

 

He made the appearance that he was in the mafia. He talked the talk, wore the suits, and acted the part just perfectly. I didn't actually believe him, but went along with his game.

A little while later, we made an attempt at starting our own "family."

The reason for this was due to the insecurities I was feeling from my original "crew".

Peter was set to be the boss, I'd be the underboss, and my pal Joey, from the weed days, was set to be the consigliare. (the accountant - although he knows nothing about money.)

It was technically Joey's job to go out and find "earners" to get the ball rolling, but he rarely did anything and I had to take over.

 

One of my older friends from my other crew was willing to join in. We made him Cappo, or Captain. He really didn't do much either, and again, after a while I found myself being the only one coming up with any ideas to make any kind of money, while the rest of my associates sat on their as$es. Eventually, Peter started talking to me about Joey behind his back, and spoke to Joey about me, behind my back - causing all 3 of us to turn on each other.

I got sick of the BS and walked away from this "family" thing and got re-involved with my other "crew", as I had nowhere else to turn. I was still feeling horrible about the way things were going, and felt if I'd just sat around and did nothing - it'd never turn around.

I still remained in contact with my pal Joey.

 

We started hanging out more, and I started making more music with them. Sometimes they were diss-records, other times they were just random things, and so on. We found ourselves drinking every day and writing new songs. Things started to look good, and I started to feel accepted again.

Naturally, with this feeling of acceptance, came the paranoia that they were still using me for my money, car, and booze. It's not like I could have asked them, as they'd just tell me what I wanted to hear to shut me up.

On the side, Joey and I had come up with a plan to get Peter back for the "hell" he had put us through during our time spent with him. Not only did he break up a potential money making machine, but for a while there - he turned me and a long time friend against each other.

He was set to get a settlement check of just over $14,000 and we wanted a piece of the action. We had this whole fake plan mapped out with blueprints and everything. Peter was willing to invest the first $7,000 of his settlement check in the idea that we came up with. The details of said idea don't need to be mentioned, but the plan was placed into action. (Note: this is all while I was still trying to gain some self-assurance from my other "crew" - I was juggling both worlds at the same time.)

 

Summer time was approaching fast, and one of my buddies from my "crew" came up with the idea to visit Jonny while he was upstate in prison. We had exchanged a couple of letters during this time and I felt the need to go see him face to face, to make sure that there was no bad blood between us for when he got out. We took the drive, the 9 hour long drive upstate where he greeted me with a smile. We spent the day with him hanging out and BSing, and by the time I left - I realized at least there was one person I could count on.

 

Summer time came along, and I had just picked up my new truck. It was a 2003 Acura MDX (as opposed to my old 1995 sh*tbox honda civic) and I felt awesome driving around with it. I felt refreshed and rejuvenated. Once my "crew" saw my new ride, it gave me a feeling of power... as if to say "I'm the one on top."

The first friday night I had the car, would turn out to be one of the worst Friday's in history for me.

 

After a small BBQ and drink-fest over at one of the guy's places, I had a "meeting" with someone 15 minutes away in the village. The meeting was to set up a drug dealing / weapons dealing scheme. Again, I felt as if I was the only one in the "crew" to even attempt at making money, and by now - legit jobs isn't an option for this kind of life. By the time the meeting was over and I made my way back to the party house, everyone was gone. Nobody called me to say they were going anywhere or anything, so I went looking for them. I found them walking down a street a little while later and picked them up.

There was nothing to do, we were a little drunk and high, and we came up with the idea to "catch a jookz" - which means to rob someone. We had done this a few times over the last month or so, so we knew we'd get a quick hundred or two to last us the rest of the night.

 

We headed over to one guy's house to prepare for what was going to unfold. We grabbed bandannas to mask our faces, baseball bats for intimidation, and just incase we needed it - we grabbed a pistol too.

We then made our way to the streets.

Eventually after a few failed attempts, we found 2 drunk guys walking home from a bar. It was late...midnight or so.

We pulled over next to them, hopped out of the car, and held our baseball bats to them telling them to hand over their money. One of our accomplises had the gun pointed at them also. They quickly handed over the money without a struggle, and before we knew it, we were driving away with a cool $400 in our pockets.....it was now time to celebrate. I knew what I was doing was wrong, I understood that this was a terrible thing to do; but I didn't care. My friends were proud of me. I stepped up and showed them that I could be "down" and they could trust me. I felt proud, too.

 

We made it back to the party house, and just as we were going to clear out the car, one of our buddies started pissing and moaning about how hungry he was, and he couldn't wait until later to eat - so we brought him over to Taco bell.

As we were pulling out getting ready to go back to the house, we noticed the cops behind us.

 

A quick left turn to evade them - and they're still there. A quick right, left, right turn later.... still following.

So we pulled into a parking lot to make it look as if we were going to a bar, and then the flashing lights came on.

We were caught. We all knew what was about to happen. We had the gun, the bats, the masks - AND the cash still on us.

 

"Nobody says anything. Keep your mouths shut." one of my guy's reminds us.

The cops pull us out of the car, guns drawn - not knowing what to expect.

We all comply.

 

The cops then arrest us on the charge of Armed Robbery - and before we could even blink, we were at the police station, separated, and cuffed to tables in interrogation rooms.

I never imagined myself being there, dealing with what was unfolding. I sat there silently rethinking the night, wondering what we could have done differently to get away; or to just start the night over and not even commit the robbery.

Hours and hours passed by.

The cops eventually came in to ask me what was going on. I knew right away that "the code of the street" was to just do my time with my mouth shut....not telling them anything. I knew this is what my friends would have wanted - as they weren't going to talk either.

 

As time went by, and reality set in... I realized soemthing..... these "friends" -- these "pals" -- this "crew"..........they weren't really my friends at all. What kind of friends do this? What kind of friends live this way? What the hell was I doing there, and what kind of life did I lead?

 

I also thought of my pal Joey. During all this time, he was out there working hard to get the money Peter was investing into our fake plan. He was doing the work while I sat around with my other crew trying to come up with more ways to make money.

Not only that - but he was out there alone without my guidance....while I was getting locked up.

 

It all hit me really hard.

 

Questions. Over and over again.......too many. I wanted them to stop. I wanted the thoughts to go away, and to just go home and forget about everything...

 

so....

 

I did what anyone else would do.

[r0ckox]

Sometimes in life, we all do things we know we "shouldn't" or don't want to do. It's a process of learning and growing up. It's actually something I am doing at this very point in time - but again.. it's all part of growing up, and also looking out for yourself.

 

As I was sitting there alone in my little room, handcuffed to the table, and thoughts of prison all over my head... I realized that I had to do soemthing to make this upcoming event easier on me. One of the cops came in the room and sat besides me. He just looked at me for a minute, as if to mentally tell me he knew this wasn't me. It wasn't in my nature to be there. He handed me one of my cigarettes and let me smoke it.

He un-cunffed me.

Sitting there silently, I knew what I had to do.

 

I told the cop everything that went down that night with my friends. The more I talked, the more he wrote down. I knew that my friends would find out I "ratted" or "snitched" on them. The thing is, I didn't tell the truth. I excluded myself from the equation and told the cop that I was just sitting in the car the whole time. He knew it wasn't true, I knew it wasn't true - but that's the way it came out.

Not only did I "snitch", but I also lied about it. Man... I knew my "friends" would be pissed had they found out.

 

The cop promised me that they wouldn't find out that I told what happened. I believed him like the sucker I was at the time.

 

Eventually, after he left, I got to sit there and think about it all. I thought about the "old times" when we use to goto Jonny's house and hang out on his porch drinking 40-ounce beers all night. I thought about the way we use to goto King's Park and hang out at Dana's house. The times we use to spend at the pool hall, and it dawned on me -- my "friends" would never have done time for me, if I had gotten away and they didn't. They wouldn't have kept their mouths shut. They would have wanted me in there with them.

That's the reason I talked. They didn't respect me. Plain and simple.

 

Eventually, it was time to get out of the room and go get finger printed and all that good stuff. As I was walking in the hallway, I came accross a room that 2 of my 3 pals were in. I overheard one of them telling the other one "don't tell them anything, but it doesn't matter now anyway... r0ckox already snitched us out" and for some reason, my heart sank.

I felt more miserable and more like a piece of trash than I ever did in my whole life.

The cop lied to me, and they knew I talked. As I walked by the room, one of them looked me in the eyes, and then placed his head down and shook it, as if to say "we're disappointed."

I'll never forget the look on his face for as long as I live.

 

Anyway...so after all that, the morning came and we had to get transfered to the court house. 3 of us were escorted to some kind of police shuttle that would transport us. The 4th guy in our "crew" - he was uncooperative. He's the only one who didn't say anything...so they left him at the precinct. It had become apparent that after I signed my statement, the other 2 did as well. Although, I'm sure their versions were the truth, that I was 100% involved. That didn't matter though.

As we were riding the 45 minute trip to Riverhead, they kept communicating in spanish to each other. Neither one saying a word to me. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I knew they were talking about what happened, and what I had done as well.

I had multiple thoughts of us getting thrown into Holding, and them coming at me. Me having to fight them off, 2 versus 1. It was sickening, but overall - they didn't do anything.

 

After we sat in holding for a little while, I sat down with one of the guys and we replayed the night together, realizing just how we got caught. The people we robbed from were able to see our liscence plate, and most likely the cops matched it up when they saw us pull out of Taco bell. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid! "We should have just parked somewhere and did everything on foot, if they chased us we could just fight them off and * * * * " he said to me. Maybe he was right, but at the same time - there is no going back, now.

Eventually, it was time to get arraigned.

 

As I entered the courtroom, I looked around and saw my old-man there. Thankfully, he had come to see me while I was in the precinct after I had called him, and the cops told him to wait at the courthouse.

Initially, the judge had told me that I'd be facing 8-25 years for Armed Robbery; with a bail of $100,000.

The bail got reduced because I had no prior record, and my old man paid it to bail me out.

I almost lost it when I heard him say he'd pay. I couldn't believe it. I thought he'd let me rot away with my jackas$ friends....but he stood right by me,. What a guy.

 

Out of the 3 of us that went in for arraignment, I was the only one to get bailed out. I knew I had a few days to get the story out to the rest of our friends, before the remaining 3 could tell the truth about what I had done, so it would buy me some time to feel out the rest of our "crew".

 

Later that day, after driving back home completely miserable and baffled, I went over to my cousin's house for a graduation party. I sat there on the front porch the entire time, barely drinking or smoking anything, and just thought about it all. Over and over again. It was hell, really.

 

As time went on, it became apparent that my friends weren't going to be bailed out, and they'd most likely get "time served" when it came time to sentence them, as they were already in jail.

And also, as time went on... the rest of our friends learned the truth about that fateful night.

I remember one of our friends calling me and asking me if there was anything I needed to tell him.. I told him no, as I wasn't sure he knew anything - and if he did know something, it could just be hearsay.

 

During the next 3 months that had passed, things went from bad, to worse. I had gotten suspended from work for 2 weeks, and sent to stay with my mother after taking a pocket knife out of a customer's car. I took the knife because I was paranoid that the rest of my friends would be coming after me, so I'd have it on me when I went out...."just in case." My family is friends with the customer I stole the knife from, and every time we meet now, we have a good laugh about it.

 

So instead of sitting at my mother's and re-living my 75 day stint from 2 years prior, I went and took the train over to a friend's apartment in the village, where I was allowed to crash on the couch for as long as I needed.

This helped me big time getting through everything, as I was staying with friends and was able to let off some steam and stress.

 

The first night there, my old man showed up (after I had called my mother and told her I'd be staying there) and acted surprised. Like I was just going to sit at my mothers again? Yeah, right.

He had walked up on me just as I was walking back to the apartment with 2 cases of beer, with 2 female friends of mine. He hung out with us and drank a few beers, which was really cool of him.

 

He then surprised me, handing me some money so I could get by. I thanked him, and off he went.

 

During my time in the village, I ran into some friends from "the crew" quite a few times. Their suspicion of me grew and grew each time they saw me. I had tried to spend time with them, but whenever they'd leave to go do something, they wouldn't include me. When we met, it was only for a few minutes here, a few minutes there, and so on.

One time they cornered me in a parking lot and before speaking to me, demanded I lifted up my shirt so I could reveal whether or not I was wearing a wire. It was sickening, but I also understood it.

And, naturally, at the same time I realized that these people really weren't friends.

There was another time that comes to mind, also. I had bumped into the same 2 "friends" again, and I was using my pre-paid cell phone at the time....one of them asked if he could use it to call his pill connect, and then put the phone in his pocket. At first I thought it was a mistake, but when I tried to get it back, I realized he was doing it on purpose.

He told me I'd get it back when I pay what I owe..... and at the time, I didn't owe anyone anything.

It was extortion.

 

I went the two weeks I was at my friend's place without my phone. No way to each anyone other than using the computer for facebook.

I ended up giving in, after I had gotten back home and back to work - and paid one of them $500. It was supposed to be a "loan" but I knew I'd never get that money back. Eventually, I got my phone back and they started to leave me alone.

Or so I thought.

 

The other guy, out of the pair that's been harassing me, was jealous and upset that I didn't pay him anything - and tried to corner me multiple times with threats and demands. He even went as far as starting beef with HIS friend over it.

Everything I knew was in that village, and even after moving back to my house, I still had to go there to meet with friends....and every time I was there, I had to watch my back. Always looking over my shoulder making sure no one was following me.

 

More time went on, and every 2 months or so I'd have to go back to court. My lawyer was doing his best to postpone any sentencing, so it was a long awaited hassle to find out my fate.

One day in November of 2008, I got my first wind of what i was coming to.

I went to court to meet my lawyer so he could just delay the hearing again, and he came to me and told me that the District Attorney is offering me a one-time deal. 6 months in jail and 5 years probation.

Naturally, to someone who's never been in jail before, this was scary, but I was willing to take the time anyway. I didn't want to keep dragging this thing on, and just wanted to get over it.

 

So, that's what it was. I agreed to the plea-deal and was told I'd be getting sentenced just a few days before my 21'st birthday. That, too was a shock to me, as now...the birthday everyone on the planet looks forward to, I'd be having mine behind bars all because I was some shmuck who had no self-esteem and just wanted so badly to be accepted.

 

Good going.