I HAD THE WORLD BY THE TAIL...

 Before I spiraled out of control like a vertiginous cyclone, I had it pretty darn well.  I joined the Marine Corps at age 17 and left for boot camp just 11 days after graduating from High School in 1984. I served honorably for over 4 years. I decided to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints upon completion of my enlistment. I left to serve in Buenos Aires, Argentina for 2 years. During that time the deep sealing of my faith occurred.  I went to Paramedic School and placed very high in my class. I had a rigorous internship on the streets of Los Angeles. I married in the LDS temple, and started my beautiful family. I secured a career as a Firefighter/Paramedic and taught at the Fire Academy for years. I promoted and embarked on my career path. I began to serve in leadership callings at church at a fairly young age. We had enough money for our needs. My house was quaint, cozy, and cute.  We were the idealistic family. My parents were proud of me, my superiors valued me, my church leaders trusted me, and my children worshipped me. I was a faithful husband and law-abiding citizen. You could say that I was the epitome of “My future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades!”

On my gratitude pilgrimage (last post), I had the opportunity to speak to a man that I had known and admired very much since my youth.  He was, unfortunately, one of many victims in the path of “Cyclone Gary”. When we met and spoke last month, it had been nearly 10 years since we had seen each other. Over 6 of those years were spent in State Prison. He is not a particularly religious man, and forgiveness was not necessarily in his character or vocabulary. The reason for which he gave me for his anger and disappointment in my behavior stirred my heart and soul, for I had never seen things from this perspective. The conversation went something like this. “Gary, do you know what infuriated me the most about your ordeal?” My head cocked sideways, I was prepared to hear of some deep personal pain I had inflicted because I had stolen from him. Not So. He stated, “You had the world by the tail.  You were the ‘Golden Boy’. People would do anything for you. I could not fathom how you were so fortunate yet allowed this to happen to you.  You had friends and resources. At some point you knew you were in trouble and weren’t smart or strong enough to ask for help before it ended up in such a catastrophe.”  I had no immediate response, but the conversation festered within me for weeks.

For all of the strength it takes to accept your shortcomings, be accountable for your actions and change; for all of the time and energy I expended in prison scrutinizing my choices and consequences; this perspective never entered my mind. Why didn’t I exhibit the necessary strength to avoid rather than repair? I have only reached two definite conclusions that occupied my character at the time of my moral demise…1) I GROSSLY underestimated the power of addiction and my adversary; and 2) As the ‘Golden Boy’, I knew of a certainty that I was immune to harsh consequences and was of the basic mindset; “It will never happen to me.”

So there I sat in my perfect life eager to claim the future lifestyle and respect I was sure to come.  Oh how ignorant I was. Things were about to change, and change they did.