In 1993 I decided to change my life around, and get back onto a positive path. I worked hard at leaving the drugs alone, especially what we called ‘Crank’ back then. In a few short months I went from being strung out, broke, living in my car to having 2 jobs, was able to stay at my Dad’s house again, and had even started my own business. I felt good, I was back up to 185 pounds, my head was clear for the first time in a long time, and I had just turned 21 the month before. To say the least, I was rolling! I finished my first big job, as a new business owner, and got paid. I was standing in line at the bank, to cash the $800.00 check I had in my hand when a girl I had been chasing around while in high school came up to me. We talked for a minute, and I took her out to lunch to catch up. Now having been working so hard has drawbacks, like being boring! So here I am, in my mind on top of the world, and before me is a little treat that I had been wanting for years! Hmmm, doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this is going!

I agreed to meet her later that night at a friend of her’s place. Now the only thing on my mind was a night off of working so hard. I felt I deserved a reward, and she was going to be it. I showed up, and things went well. Started drinking and next thing I knew; it was a full-blown party. Late that night I started to get tired, she showed no signs of even slowing up. Long story short, she offered me some crank, to keep the party going. I should have said no. But I made the decision that I could control it this one time. I could limit myself now, even though I never had been able to before.

Less than 2 months later I was getting weighed in at the county jail, the cops there in utter disbelief of “Skeletor” before them. Weighing in at 125 pounds while wearing my leather jacket, steel-toed boots, Levi’s, and a flannel shirt. What was I even doing here? It was just one line. Why are they booking me into jail for the kidnapping, torture and Aggravated Murder of an 18-year-old man? One decision, that’s why. I’ve been in prison ever since my arrest in 1993, serving Life Without Parole. I never get out kids, NEVER!

Now you might think that would be the end of my drug fueled poor decision making debacles. You’d be wrong. This is hard for me to share, but I’m going to in the hopes that you can learn from my mistakes. In February it will be 4 years since this happened. I was in my cell, in the middle of doing a shot of heroin when my cell door opened. My brother stuck his head out while I finished what I was doing. We were getting called to a visit, cool surprise right? Stash everything away real quick, and head out to visiting. My Dad and our Aunt came down to surprise us, nothing better than a day spent with the family you love, right? Right? About an hour in, I start getting that itch; I want to do another shot. Still have an hour of visiting left, so I make a decision. One decision, remember that.

I tell my Dad that I’ve got to get back to the cell and take care of some business I left out. He knows guys, me not being able to eat or drink all the goodies Auntie put on the table would have told him that. But he knew, because I told him the truth. I cut my visit with my Dad, the most important person in my world, short so I could run back to my cell and do another shot of heroin. Pretty screwed up, huh? It gets worse. Less than a week later my Dad died in a car crash. I never saw my Dad again. I’d give my own life right now to get one more hug from him, and I threw away the last hour of my last visit with him to do a shot of heroin. That one decision haunts me every single day of my life. The regret gets so bad sometimes I nearly end it. The strain of it crushes me, EVERY SINGLE TIME I THINK ABOUT IT! I’m sitting here right now with tears running down my face, snot on my upper lip, the PAIN is still that real, that potent. Some big, bad convict I am, right?

ONE DECISION, that is the difference between a life worth living, and a life of pain and regret. I’ve thrown my life away so many times, due to bad decisions. Drugs cannot help you make good decisions, only bad ones. I beg you, PLEASE don’t do to yourself what I have done to me. You all deserve better than that, you owe it to yourself, and you owe it to your families. One decision, think every decision through because you never know which one it will be that decides the rest of your life.

Wiz