Correctional Officer Interaction Log

Hi y'all! Fellow nerds of the world. I had an okay week this week. I thought I was getting along with everyone at my job, but deep down, I knew that the correctional officers would start to get irked by my presence. The mere fact that I look the way I do at 51 can seriously tick off a bunch of evil narcissistic COs who just want to gang up on me, beat me up, and throw me in prison. One CO kept trying to get under my skin, testing whether I was paying attention, as if I should be five moves ahead of him. "I just pay attention to what's right in front of me, okay?" I responded. That seemed to infuriate him even more. I really hope I don’t have any more verbal tussles with him. I plan to keep my socializing, especially with him, to a minimum. That’s what happens when you stay lifelong sober in the United States of Alcohol! Sober people are often pushed to the periphery, ignored, and made to feel like societal anomalies. Lifelong sober individuals are treated as the weirdos of society. We are perceived as "serial killers waiting to happen" or people striving for perfection, which leads to resentment. I want to stress that while people, especially men, may not outwardly express their hatred for you and your 20,000-plus days of sobriety, you will receive evil looks, and most men who are alcoholics will likely ignore your presence or avoid talking to you. I also have this issue with a female medical assistant who seems intent on putting me down or sabotaging my work at the prison. She operates on the down-low, trying to make me look bad so that I get fired. This is the plight of lifelong sober people, aka "Chosen Ones"; we truly are not liked by anyone, including our families. The last time I talked to my family was on December 1st, when my mother called me to play phone games. She asked me to call her back, thinking I have no money, and I never called her back immediately. I’m a grown man; if you can't leave a message about why you called, I won’t feel the need to return your call. I don’t need you, mother of mine, anymore. God raised me, not you. I reflect on my family and how they were brainwashed into thinking I was a failure, leading to my excommunication because I chose not to drink. My brother and dad tried to convince me that I was homosexual, even though I wasn’t, and they kicked me out of the house, forcing me into a small, terrible apartment. I reached a point of desperation and slashed my wrist, waiting to die because I felt I had no family anymore. While I was sitting there, I called 911, and an ambulance came to get me. I was stitched up, but I don't think there is anyone as sober as me in Kern County or even America. This, in turn, explains why I get treated so poorly, which only fuels my hatred for people more. I never want to be around anyone! As Mr. Smith said in The Matrix, we are just a virus, draining resources and multiplying. Until next time, "Serial Killer Waiting to Happen" out. I hate people!