October 11, 2014

 Now picture this, there’s essentially an elephant made to look like it’s sitting in front of my parents, but I have to convince them that it’s not actually there. This feels like MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. I spent the evening sick to my stomach, unable to sleep, trying to think straight enough to make a stand for what little rights I have as a prisoner of the state, knowing this is a battle that can only be won with help from outside resources, namely my family and hopefully an attorney with enough trust from my parents and believing me when I try to tell them this is all one big splash of bad luck and not some attempt at covering up a relapse of drug abuse on my part. 7:30a.m. rolls around, time for my video visit with mom and dad, thinking clearly yet still an emotional mess. As my parents come into view on the screen, I’m sure that they’re already on guard, prepared for the worst of news from their son, which is unfortunately nothing new to them. I already know this is more than likely going to result in my parents, relying on my past history being forced to believe I smoked pot and that’s exactly what happened. My father began to talk about how hard it is to believe me, even after all that I’ve done for myself in preparation for my future these last few years, the proof is in the pudding (or urine screening). How can I compete with a scientific piece of evidence that states I’ve been using marijuana. At this moment I feel so helpless, so depressed, so frustrated that no one believes me. But as I persist and continue to hold my ground I begin to sense a little “what if” from my mother and father. I’ve worked harder in these last three years on metamorphosizing my entire life than I’ve ever worked on anything before; I feel I earned a little “what if” from my family. There’s no other motivation for what I do every day in prison other than creating a stable and successful future for myself and my family. So I continue to tell them that something has gone terribly wrong with the urine screening, either my specimen was mixed up with another inmates, or some health medication I take might have caused a false positive reading for THC, regardless of what the problem maybe, I have no doubt that an attorney is necessary in fighting a nearly unbeatable system that has found me guilty of something I’ve spent the last three years intentionally avoiding in order to save my life and future and yet here I sit, speechless, flabbergasted, discombobulated, wondering how this could have happened to me and why. As I sit in front of my parents on video my mother is simultaneously looking up my medication on the internet(Web MD), she finds a couple of similar medications, but nothing solid or promising enough to show the prison authorities, even if there was, something tells me it wouldn’t matter and they’ll still find me guilty. I need a lawyer to speak on my behalf, so I continue to plea for help from my parents to give me the benefit of doubt and call an attorney for help. When we were first drug tested well over a month ago, my friend Kurt and I talked about the possibility of this happening, Kurt took it seriously, but I laughed at him, told him to quit being so paranoid and that everything was going to be just fine. Kurt talked about contacting his lawyer, possibly sending him some of his hair in the mail for a follicle test in case he was accused of being dirty for substances. From what I understand hair tests go back multiple months when testing for substances. That’s exactly what I feel I need right now, it might be my only chance to prove my sobriety is genuine. I need a lawyer to come here and be witnessed pulling a hair sample from my body, running a true test, one that’s detailed, specific and predating the last urine screen. It’s my understanding that the urine screens were all simple field tests, with dipsticks that change colors. Whatever kind of tests it was, it was faulty and now I’m suffering for it. I even found myself wondering if I actually used pot and just blocked it out of my head with some kind of superhuman mind controlling powers.. Yah right! God, I don’t know why this is happening to me, but I need your help right now.

 

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