from the heart of a friend who aches with the loss of a friend

This is from my friend Bobby Jo. I want to see beyond what is so commonly first seen.

Let me tell you about Gerry.

Gerry has spent half of his life (literally) in jail. He went in to juvy at a young teen, and basically never came out.

Ok, three months here or there, but basically locked up.

Why?

Because Gerry was a very violent person. He almost killed a person, he beat someone else so bad they are paralyzed for life, he beat up his parole officer, beat up inmates, guards, friends, loved ones. He beat up his councillor. He beat up a woman. He lived by his fists ... he hurt people.

People were afraid of Gerry, he was a very intimidating person. My friends who came to my house were often afraid of him.

It seemed apparent who was the victims, and who was the victimizer.

Many thought Gerry belonged in jail, or was a bad person, a lost cause or really disliked him for what he inflicted, emotionally or physically, onto others.

But I say to you, without minimizing the suffering he caused or the pain of the victim’s, that Gerry was also the victim.

Let’s go back to those fundamental years of growth as a child.

Dad was drunking lots. Dad was angry, by his own right, and found himself beating up his kids, his wife…himself.

So often auntie was over, being one of the care givers.

But auntie also had her own pain and brokenness and found herself acting out sexually to/with the young boys, the young Gerry.

Poverty, family violence, sexual abuse…Gerry became angry, scared and afraid.

This pain and fear caused young Gerry to act out, and end up in juvy. The anger, fear, feelings of rejection and loneliness grew and teenage Gerry started acting out more and more. So the guards (or what ever you want to call them) at the silaps program (some kind of group in the juvenile jail) thought they would teach Gerry a good lesson, put him in his place…so they took him one night, for a real “ride” and beat him up (or as Gerry put it “boot fucked” him) until the wee hours of the morning...a few times over.

Yah, they taught him alright…to be more afraid, more distrustful, to be more angry.

Gerry new something was not right in him.

He was diagnoses with a number of mental health disorders, many starting in early childhood. Personality disorders.

As Gerry grew up, often he would lengthen his sentence by assaulting people while in prison. Prison was the only thing he new.

Gerry went to counseling, group therapy, saw a psychologist.

Gerry went to anger management.

Gerry tried medication.

Then Gerry was dropped into "the free world" at the age of 30. It was new. It was scary. It was different. It was big.

But Gerry met a girl. His first girl friend. His first love. The first time in a long time he was not alone in the world. He was wanted, he was needed.

Kathy was a sex worker addicted to heroin.

Said want to know what I am going through? My pain? Here try some.

Gerry ended up getting addicted to drugs and getting street involved, and again, in and out of jail, but for short periods of time.

Gerry went to treatment.

Failed. Used. Beat people up.

Then Gerry went to treatment again.

Failed. Used. Beat people up.

Tried to commit suicide through overdose.

Then went to treatment again.

Failed. Used. Used. Beat people up.

The drugs, the fear, the anger had a hold on him.

The loneliness burned him.

Gerry tried life skills program.

Failed. Used. Beat people up.

Gerry tried working like crazy.

Failed. Used. But stopped beating people up...mostly.

Then tried to commit suicide through over dose.

Gerry tried treatment again.

Failed.

Tried to commit suicide, I found him o.ding on my bathroom floor. Had to resuscitate him.

What a close call. I almost beat him up.

Drugs, violence and mental health issues got in the way of what he saw as success.

Gerry just could not beat this addiction.

And he wanted to, god knows, he wanted to. He tried again and again.

He wanted to stop being angry and violent.

I know this. I saw.

Gerry would cry. cry. cry.

pray and pray.

And try again.

He wanted a “normal” life.

He wanted a family, a home and a good job…someone to love.

He wanted to give back, to love people.

The disappointment and desperation and feelings of failure would not go away.

He would have periods in the last few years of clean time, but the old demon would sneak back.

The anger always came back.

Yesterday Gerry committed suicide.

He o.ded on crystal meth.

He left a message…I can’t do this any more. The pain, disappointment is too much.

I went to the hospital and held Gerry as he passed on to his peace.

I gave the dr. permission to pull the life line.

So, as much as many would see him as a victimizer, I also saw that he was a victim.

I think I hate those words.

He never recovered from the wounds of his past.

Psychology did not cure him, jail did not cure him, medication did not cure him, religion did not cure him, anger management and the 12 steps did not cure him.

He tried, but even drugs would not give him any peace...or cure him.

Can you cure a broken spirit?

This is what I wonder when I sit here.

Did Gerry really have a chance? A choice?

I don’t know.

Mental health, family violence, poverty, addiction…they are all very complex.

I hope we never think we have the answers.

I loved Gerry very much.

In all the turmoil, I saw such amazing beauty.

I would tell him, my ex-partner , my friends how much beauty I saw in him.

It would make me cry.

I got to see moments of amazing compassion.

I got to see moments of amazing love for me and other friends.

I got to see the amazing depths of his intelligence, knowledge and wisdom.

I got to see his creativity and ability to put words together in a way that would make me shiver.

I got to see some amazing personal growth.

He taught me about perseverance. He taught me that everyone has a story.

He taught me about honesty.

He taught me about pain.

He taught me no discipline, no theory, no answer, no treatment, was hard and fast…concrete.

That things, life, people were complex. Multifaceted. Unique.

He taught me to be grateful.

He taught me how blessed I was.

Gerry changed me.

I hope he is not tormented anymore and that he has found true peace.

I hope he can forgive us, society, and community for failing him.

Rest in peace my love.