I was on my way to the “Palace” to see the Pistons the other night. I was meeting a few friends that I hadn’t seen in a few years. I was thinking, though I really don’t like pro basketball, it’d be nice to see the guys, and best of all, the ticket was free. I got out of work a little early, came home and got Lucky out and changed then headed to the Palace to meet up with the gang.
I was about half way there when I started having one of my little episodes. You know the ones. My brain started telling me about all the horrible things that were bound to happen once I arrived. Of course, the people I was meeting wouldn’t really want me there. They were no doubt regretting their decision of inviting me before I had even arrived. Then the fight in my head started. I started telling myself how ridiculous I was being and knew that it wasn’t really happening. As I kept getting closer to my destination, the argument kept going and I started sweating and was having a hard time catching my breath. I ended up doing the dumbest thing possible and turned around and came home.
I’ve had these type of things happen to me so many times but it still doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. The obvious and most advised solution is to be on an anti anxiety medication. Well, guess what? I was. I got an RX for one a few weeks ago. I took one about an hour or so before I left work. It did absolutely nothing to stop my brain from telling me all the things we’re supposed to not believe about ourselves. Obviously, I need to see about getting a different one as Xanax does nothing to help.
Feeling like this is especially bad this time of year. The Holiday season is supposed to be a time to be together with friends and family and with the obligations to attend these events I’ve been in a mood to beat all moods since the Thanksgiving. I would give anything to be able to skip this time of year on a regular basis. It’s one of the reasons I’ve never minded working during the Holiday season. It’s the easiest out I have for anything. Unfortunately my store closes early on Christmas Eve and closed on Christmas day.
I guess I’m just writing this to sort of give an apology and an explanation to anyone that finds my behavior off putting and I hope they’ll understand that, truly, it’s not them, it’s me. I really wish I didn’t realize how childish this all is. Sadly, for me, it’s simply not the case.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
We'll Just Never Get It
Got a phone call the other night on my way home from the brother of someone I used to know with some pretty sad news. To say I was surprised to hear from him is quite an understatement. I barely knew him and had just become reacquainted with his sister. He called to tell me his Sister had died a few days earlier and, when I asked what had happened, he told me she had committed suicide. Not knowing how to respond, I gave my condolences and we chatted for a couple minutes about what had been going on in her life. I had just spoken to her over Thanksgiving and hadn’t spoken to her, before that, for around 30 years.
It seems she was in the middle of a bad marriage, thankfully had no kids and had recently cleaned up after a life of drugs and alcohol. Obviously, the demons hidden by the drugs and drinking were too much for her to handle and, not getting the help she obviously needed, she saw no other way or reason to continue living. I’m sure all of us can come up with a million things we could have told her to try to convince her that life was worth the effort. I felt a bit of guilt when I heard the news; I think that’s a natural thing. When I spoke to her I didn’t notice anything out of order in the things we talked about but, still, I wish I had noticed something was amiss. I hadn’t spoken to her in decades, I truly didn’t know the person I was chatting with and she gave no indication of what was to come.
I’ve always had different feelings than most about suicide. Don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say; I don’t want anyone to kill themselves. I do, however, understand the feeling of wanting to end ones life. I’ve always felt that there are certain people that are just “wired” wrong. Well, wrong isn’t the right word. Let’s just say that they aren’t meant to live this thing we call life. I seriously think that it just happens to some and though we, as a society, have been taught that life is so precious, it’s not that way for everyone.
Of course I believe that we should try to help those that truly feel this way. I can imagine little worse than dealing with these demons on a daily basis. I’ve had my own issues over the years and I know it’s a tough road to hoe. I’m not saying we should have some sort of panel to decide if it’s ok for one to end up killing themselves, I don’t pretend to think that’s a good idea. I just think we need to try to understand those that are in such a position, mentally, and not just write them off as weak or crazy. Life isn’t an easy task, and it is a task, some are just incapable of making it through to its natural conclusion.
I don’t know all the circumstances of this person I had just started talking to again and I hope she did find some happiness in her short life. What I won’t do is blame her for deciding life wasn’t worth the effort. I think that’s the least we owe these friends and family members of people that loved them.
It seems she was in the middle of a bad marriage, thankfully had no kids and had recently cleaned up after a life of drugs and alcohol. Obviously, the demons hidden by the drugs and drinking were too much for her to handle and, not getting the help she obviously needed, she saw no other way or reason to continue living. I’m sure all of us can come up with a million things we could have told her to try to convince her that life was worth the effort. I felt a bit of guilt when I heard the news; I think that’s a natural thing. When I spoke to her I didn’t notice anything out of order in the things we talked about but, still, I wish I had noticed something was amiss. I hadn’t spoken to her in decades, I truly didn’t know the person I was chatting with and she gave no indication of what was to come.
I’ve always had different feelings than most about suicide. Don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say; I don’t want anyone to kill themselves. I do, however, understand the feeling of wanting to end ones life. I’ve always felt that there are certain people that are just “wired” wrong. Well, wrong isn’t the right word. Let’s just say that they aren’t meant to live this thing we call life. I seriously think that it just happens to some and though we, as a society, have been taught that life is so precious, it’s not that way for everyone.
Of course I believe that we should try to help those that truly feel this way. I can imagine little worse than dealing with these demons on a daily basis. I’ve had my own issues over the years and I know it’s a tough road to hoe. I’m not saying we should have some sort of panel to decide if it’s ok for one to end up killing themselves, I don’t pretend to think that’s a good idea. I just think we need to try to understand those that are in such a position, mentally, and not just write them off as weak or crazy. Life isn’t an easy task, and it is a task, some are just incapable of making it through to its natural conclusion.
I don’t know all the circumstances of this person I had just started talking to again and I hope she did find some happiness in her short life. What I won’t do is blame her for deciding life wasn’t worth the effort. I think that’s the least we owe these friends and family members of people that loved them.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
They're Only Thoughts
I spend a lot of my time trying to protect myself from harm. I think if you have read any of my previous posts you know what it is I’m talking about. I’ve always had a hard time making myself comfortable in pretty much any environment I find myself, no matter who I’m with or what I’m doing, out in the real world, I can literally bury myself in thoughts of self doubt so deep it’s almost certain to have a direct effect on the enjoyment of whatever I’m doing.
Lately I’ve been trying to find those “happy” places and identify them at the moment they occur. It seems that my only true comfort zone is when I’m at work. It’s got little to do with liking my job. There’s a feeling I get when doing the grocery store thing that just settles me in ways I can’t seem to find anywhere else. I was chatting with a friend the other day and tried to explain what I mean by that.
It all seems to come down to those damn expectations I work so hard at denying. When I’m at work, the expectations are set; the variables are few as there is always a solid plan that I have to follow. In real life, things are too wide open. There are too many ways to do each and every little thing. I have to be at work at a certain time. I have to perform certain functions and have a kind of map for all the tasks I have to do. There are certain ways to do this and that and, after years of practice, I’ve become pretty good at it.
Outside of work things are quite different. There’s nobody telling me what needs to be done, how to perform each task and, worst of all, this free will thing. I have too many choices and my fear of anything that requires commitment rules pretty much everything I do. Some friends and I joke about it sometimes. My first response to any question involving plans of any sort is either a quick “no” or a “let me see what’s going on” while I scramble for a way to ensure I have a valid, for me, excuse not to attend whatever it is I’m working so hard at avoiding.
It really doesn’t matter how much I’ll enjoy whatever the invite is for, I automatically switch to excuse mode. I think the problem is time. There’s always too much time between the invite and the event and I spend the duration of that time fighting within myself about wanting to do whatever it is and convincing myself that nobody really wants me there anyway. I know, that’s crazy. Why would they ask and all that other stuff. It doesn’t matter though. The thoughts are real and, as we all know, perception is reality.
Lately I’ve been trying to find those “happy” places and identify them at the moment they occur. It seems that my only true comfort zone is when I’m at work. It’s got little to do with liking my job. There’s a feeling I get when doing the grocery store thing that just settles me in ways I can’t seem to find anywhere else. I was chatting with a friend the other day and tried to explain what I mean by that.
It all seems to come down to those damn expectations I work so hard at denying. When I’m at work, the expectations are set; the variables are few as there is always a solid plan that I have to follow. In real life, things are too wide open. There are too many ways to do each and every little thing. I have to be at work at a certain time. I have to perform certain functions and have a kind of map for all the tasks I have to do. There are certain ways to do this and that and, after years of practice, I’ve become pretty good at it.
Outside of work things are quite different. There’s nobody telling me what needs to be done, how to perform each task and, worst of all, this free will thing. I have too many choices and my fear of anything that requires commitment rules pretty much everything I do. Some friends and I joke about it sometimes. My first response to any question involving plans of any sort is either a quick “no” or a “let me see what’s going on” while I scramble for a way to ensure I have a valid, for me, excuse not to attend whatever it is I’m working so hard at avoiding.
It really doesn’t matter how much I’ll enjoy whatever the invite is for, I automatically switch to excuse mode. I think the problem is time. There’s always too much time between the invite and the event and I spend the duration of that time fighting within myself about wanting to do whatever it is and convincing myself that nobody really wants me there anyway. I know, that’s crazy. Why would they ask and all that other stuff. It doesn’t matter though. The thoughts are real and, as we all know, perception is reality.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Logic? Don't Look Here
There have always been times in my life, as I’m sure we can all say, that I’ve questioned the point of it all. I, however, happen to do this more often than anyone I know. I think the reason I do it more than others is simply a case of my own laziness. When most people do this self-examination thing, they usually find something in their makeup that they want to change and they go about finding a way to do just that. They take a class, they start an exercise regimen, they do something, anything to try to self-correct whatever it is that’s bothering them.
I, on the other hand, always have good intentions but never, and I mean never, have attempted to take that first step towards changing whatever it is that I don’t like. Oh, I think about it, I plan it and tell myself that today is the day and all that other stuff we tell ourselves. Then the idea of the task hits me and I just let it go by the wayside. Oh, I still question everything it’s just that the question I ask is more along the lines of “Why me”? Or, “how much longer is this gonna last”? Like either of those are valid on any level.
Lately it seems the questions are more frequent than usual. I always get this way during the holidays and I’ll gladly attribute my feelings to the season. I’m thinking that maybe turning 50 in a couple months may be adding to the malaise too. Not because I’m feeling that mortality thing, not even close, more along the lines of what a waste of time it and I have been. I know, I know, we all question where we are and what we’ve done. I also know, as I’ve written about on numerous occasions, that we all have regrets. Here’s the rub: I have always been uncomfortable in my own skin. I’ve never wanted to be me. I know, once again, numerous people feel that way. My bigger issue is that I don’t want to be anyone else either. So what are the options? Kill myself? Never gonna happen, for reasons that have been discussed over and over again. So I sit and whine about my life and for reasons nobody I know can explain, write about it. I guess it beats talking to myself while walking in the mall.
I go out and see people, everyone having a good time, and I’m just burning up inside. I touched on this a bit in my last post but it’s a jealousy thing. Why can’t I enjoy it as much as they are? I literally find myself getting mad at them, like how dare they have this joy that I find so elusive. I look at the pictures and see everyone doing these normal social activities, which any adult should have wired at this point in their lives, and all I can do is look for the escape. First to my car then to my chair where I melt into this thing of nothingness that does nothing but get me more upset about the whole thing. It’s a constant that’s been with me for as long as I can remember. Not being part of this social scene is always an option and it does beg the question of why I do it. I have this ultimate fear of what I’d turn into if I didn’t go out and attend these functions. It’s a good thing I have to work because I could so easily find myself slipping into a reclusive lifestyle and hating myself even more for it.
You know what’s even worse? This all makes sense to me.
I, on the other hand, always have good intentions but never, and I mean never, have attempted to take that first step towards changing whatever it is that I don’t like. Oh, I think about it, I plan it and tell myself that today is the day and all that other stuff we tell ourselves. Then the idea of the task hits me and I just let it go by the wayside. Oh, I still question everything it’s just that the question I ask is more along the lines of “Why me”? Or, “how much longer is this gonna last”? Like either of those are valid on any level.
Lately it seems the questions are more frequent than usual. I always get this way during the holidays and I’ll gladly attribute my feelings to the season. I’m thinking that maybe turning 50 in a couple months may be adding to the malaise too. Not because I’m feeling that mortality thing, not even close, more along the lines of what a waste of time it and I have been. I know, I know, we all question where we are and what we’ve done. I also know, as I’ve written about on numerous occasions, that we all have regrets. Here’s the rub: I have always been uncomfortable in my own skin. I’ve never wanted to be me. I know, once again, numerous people feel that way. My bigger issue is that I don’t want to be anyone else either. So what are the options? Kill myself? Never gonna happen, for reasons that have been discussed over and over again. So I sit and whine about my life and for reasons nobody I know can explain, write about it. I guess it beats talking to myself while walking in the mall.
I go out and see people, everyone having a good time, and I’m just burning up inside. I touched on this a bit in my last post but it’s a jealousy thing. Why can’t I enjoy it as much as they are? I literally find myself getting mad at them, like how dare they have this joy that I find so elusive. I look at the pictures and see everyone doing these normal social activities, which any adult should have wired at this point in their lives, and all I can do is look for the escape. First to my car then to my chair where I melt into this thing of nothingness that does nothing but get me more upset about the whole thing. It’s a constant that’s been with me for as long as I can remember. Not being part of this social scene is always an option and it does beg the question of why I do it. I have this ultimate fear of what I’d turn into if I didn’t go out and attend these functions. It’s a good thing I have to work because I could so easily find myself slipping into a reclusive lifestyle and hating myself even more for it.
You know what’s even worse? This all makes sense to me.
Friday, November 26, 2010
A Jumbled Mass Of...
One of these days I’ll figure out what it is about Holidays that I find, I don’t know, maddening. It’s the day after Thanksgiving and I’m finding myself actually getting upset about it. I find it so hard to articulate what the feelings are, but they’re always there. It’s almost like a jealousy thing. I find myself almost more bothered by the fact that everyone else is enjoying the season than by the idea of the Holidays themselves.
I have to tread lightly in what I’m trying to say so as not to offend anyone here and I don’t want anyone to think I don’t enjoy the time I spend with family and friends. I’ve always had a hard time understanding why we have, in the case of Thanksgiving, one day where we are “thankful”. Seriously, do we really need to be reminded to be thankful, if that’s what you are, for what we have? It just seems so, I don’t know, contrived sometimes. I know, it’s always a good thing to be reminded but seriously, it seems that we’re more interested in the Black Friday deals than we are in the Holiday anyway, so why not just pick any day during any month and have a nice meal with family and friends? I know, most of us already do that; it’s called having a social life. See? This is why it’s so exhausting being me. All day yesterday, these were the thoughts going through my head.
Yesterday, as I sat in my chair, knowing I’d be heading up to Karen’s in a short while, I started having one of my typical panicky moments. I actually broke out in a sweat at the thought of having dinner with those closest to me. How ridiculous is that? What harm could possibly happen to me by what the day held?
My nephew called with an extra ticket to the Lions game and I quickly accepted. Of course going to a Thanksgiving game is cool and the drive, first to the stadium and then to Lansing, was something I looked forward to. I think the drive helps me in situations like this. I downloaded a number of episodes of “This American Life” onto the phone and listened to one on the way to the game and another two going to Lansing. Getting caught up in what I’m listening to doesn’t afford the time to dwell on the whole social thing facing me when I get to my destination. Of course dinner and family were wonderful, always is. I just have such a hard time convincing myself of that before the fact.
Tonight is that Bar Night thing I wrote about last year. Hundreds of folks from my High School gather at a local venue and have an all class reunion if you will. I’ve known about it for months and, though slowly, I’ve become more and more nervous about it as the time gets closer. I want to go. I want to see everyone. I wish I could just close my eyes and be in the middle of the place, surrounded by everyone instead of spending the day knowing that I am going there. In this case, I know that the juice is worth the squeeze. The squeeze is just so painful sometimes that I just want to hide myself in a closet and never be found. I’m working today and by the time I get off the shindig will have already started. I simply dread the ride to the venue; it’s too short a distance to entrance myself in a radio show. I want to just blink my eyes and, you know…
I have to tread lightly in what I’m trying to say so as not to offend anyone here and I don’t want anyone to think I don’t enjoy the time I spend with family and friends. I’ve always had a hard time understanding why we have, in the case of Thanksgiving, one day where we are “thankful”. Seriously, do we really need to be reminded to be thankful, if that’s what you are, for what we have? It just seems so, I don’t know, contrived sometimes. I know, it’s always a good thing to be reminded but seriously, it seems that we’re more interested in the Black Friday deals than we are in the Holiday anyway, so why not just pick any day during any month and have a nice meal with family and friends? I know, most of us already do that; it’s called having a social life. See? This is why it’s so exhausting being me. All day yesterday, these were the thoughts going through my head.
Yesterday, as I sat in my chair, knowing I’d be heading up to Karen’s in a short while, I started having one of my typical panicky moments. I actually broke out in a sweat at the thought of having dinner with those closest to me. How ridiculous is that? What harm could possibly happen to me by what the day held?
My nephew called with an extra ticket to the Lions game and I quickly accepted. Of course going to a Thanksgiving game is cool and the drive, first to the stadium and then to Lansing, was something I looked forward to. I think the drive helps me in situations like this. I downloaded a number of episodes of “This American Life” onto the phone and listened to one on the way to the game and another two going to Lansing. Getting caught up in what I’m listening to doesn’t afford the time to dwell on the whole social thing facing me when I get to my destination. Of course dinner and family were wonderful, always is. I just have such a hard time convincing myself of that before the fact.
Tonight is that Bar Night thing I wrote about last year. Hundreds of folks from my High School gather at a local venue and have an all class reunion if you will. I’ve known about it for months and, though slowly, I’ve become more and more nervous about it as the time gets closer. I want to go. I want to see everyone. I wish I could just close my eyes and be in the middle of the place, surrounded by everyone instead of spending the day knowing that I am going there. In this case, I know that the juice is worth the squeeze. The squeeze is just so painful sometimes that I just want to hide myself in a closet and never be found. I’m working today and by the time I get off the shindig will have already started. I simply dread the ride to the venue; it’s too short a distance to entrance myself in a radio show. I want to just blink my eyes and, you know…
Sunday, November 21, 2010
I Don't Wanna Grow Up
A little over two years ago, many of my friends, along with myself, joined the social networking site, Facebook. I’ve written on numerous occasions how I feel about the site and can never really put into words how much it’s literally changed who I am. I know there are many out there that appreciate it just as much. It’s allowed us to reacquaint ourselves with our youth and, to me, it’s been an incredible journey. The education I’ve gained from this journey is one that’s helped me in more ways than one could count.
Lately I’ve noticed a number of folks talking about how bored they are with the site. How they aren’t having fun with it any longer. I find it a bit humorous that the people they are talking to about this are the same people they would have never even spoken to if it weren’t for Facebook.
I was chatting with a friend, I would never be talking to if not for FB, about this very subject the other day and came up with this idea of what seems to be happening. I told her we were all like kids that had just moved onto the same block at the same time. We all, at the beginning, would go out and play everyday, with everyone. As is with most neighborhood kids, we soon found our own little group of friends that we would play with more than others. The problem, as I’m sure you all remember, is that eventually the wonder of it all would somehow disappear. The process would take time, almost unnoticeable, until eventually you lose touch and would only see each other on rare occasions.
It’s kind of funny the way things have worked out. If you think about it, it really does mirror our actual lives. You move away and go to college, get a job, get married and raise a family. In the process, you lose touch with most of the friends of your youth. It’s nothing personal, you just grow up.
Well, just as in my youth, I’m not sure I’m ready to grow up. I don’t want to lose touch with all my friends on the block. It’s meant way too much to me and I’m not sure I can afford the loss. I know I’ve depended on these cyber friendships more than most and many out there laugh at my addiction to the whole thing. Be that as it may, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going away to college. I’m not getting married. I’m staying at home, living with my parents, as it were. I have no problem being thought of as “that guy” we all knew of back then.
I was at work a few weeks ago and a guy came through my checkout line. I’d never seen him before and when I said “Hi”, he responded with, “ I know you, you’re the funniest guy on Facebook”. It turns out he’s a friend of a friend and sees some of the stuff I post. It felt kind of cool, being almost famous like. I’ve met a number of people that have told me they knew me from the site. I like that, it’s a real good feeling and one I’m not willing to let go away. So, you guys that want to go away to college, go ahead. I’ll be right here if you want to come back and play a game of pick-up football in the street. Remember, two completions or two squares for a first down.
Lately I’ve noticed a number of folks talking about how bored they are with the site. How they aren’t having fun with it any longer. I find it a bit humorous that the people they are talking to about this are the same people they would have never even spoken to if it weren’t for Facebook.
I was chatting with a friend, I would never be talking to if not for FB, about this very subject the other day and came up with this idea of what seems to be happening. I told her we were all like kids that had just moved onto the same block at the same time. We all, at the beginning, would go out and play everyday, with everyone. As is with most neighborhood kids, we soon found our own little group of friends that we would play with more than others. The problem, as I’m sure you all remember, is that eventually the wonder of it all would somehow disappear. The process would take time, almost unnoticeable, until eventually you lose touch and would only see each other on rare occasions.
It’s kind of funny the way things have worked out. If you think about it, it really does mirror our actual lives. You move away and go to college, get a job, get married and raise a family. In the process, you lose touch with most of the friends of your youth. It’s nothing personal, you just grow up.
Well, just as in my youth, I’m not sure I’m ready to grow up. I don’t want to lose touch with all my friends on the block. It’s meant way too much to me and I’m not sure I can afford the loss. I know I’ve depended on these cyber friendships more than most and many out there laugh at my addiction to the whole thing. Be that as it may, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going away to college. I’m not getting married. I’m staying at home, living with my parents, as it were. I have no problem being thought of as “that guy” we all knew of back then.
I was at work a few weeks ago and a guy came through my checkout line. I’d never seen him before and when I said “Hi”, he responded with, “ I know you, you’re the funniest guy on Facebook”. It turns out he’s a friend of a friend and sees some of the stuff I post. It felt kind of cool, being almost famous like. I’ve met a number of people that have told me they knew me from the site. I like that, it’s a real good feeling and one I’m not willing to let go away. So, you guys that want to go away to college, go ahead. I’ll be right here if you want to come back and play a game of pick-up football in the street. Remember, two completions or two squares for a first down.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
How Incredibly Sad
There is a story here in the local papers about a 14-year-old girl that filed Statutory Rape charges against an 18-year-old boy at her school. The police were investigating the case and charges were filed against the young man. It soon became public and the 14-year-old child was interviewed on television. She gave her side of the story, with her identity hidden and, though there’s no way to know if she was telling the truth, sounded pretty credible. I don’t pretend to know much about the case, didn’t really pay much attention to it, shame on me. My natural assumption was that this guy forced himself on this child and that he was nothing but garbage. Well, it turns out, there was, and is, so much more to the story.
There are always three sides to every story. The first of which is what we’ve heard on the news. The third is the fact that this poor kid hung herself earlier this week and a young life ended far too soon. The second side of the story is more confusing than one could imagine. I’m pasting a story from today’s Free Press into this post for all to see. It’s an opinion piece, yet gives us all a better view into the events that took place.
Teen's life too short -- and too public
BY BRIAN DICKERSON DETROIT FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
Under Michigan law, it is illegal to have sex with a 14-year-old girl, even if she consents.
But there's no law against broadcasting on television the same 14-year-old's account of her sexual activity. And that's a shame, because if there were such a law, Samantha Kelly might still be alive today.
Late on Sept. 26, Samantha's mother, June Justice, told Huron Township police that her daughter, a freshman at Huron High School, admitted having sexual intercourse with Joseph Tarnopolski, an 18-year-old senior who lived eight homes down the road from theirs.
In a handwritten statement and two separate interviews conducted outside her mother's presence, Samantha said she and Tarnopolski had sex for two hours one morning while Tarnopolski's parents were away. She admitted telling Tarnopolski that she was anxious to lose her virginity. Police later found text message exchanges supporting the two teenagers' accounts that their sexual encounter had been consensual.
Those accounts, coupled with the fact that Samantha was too young to consent legally to sexual contact with anyone, gave prosecutors the grounds to charge Tarnopolski with third-degree criminal sexual conduct, a felony punishable by up to 15 years in prison and 25 years on Michigan's public sex offender registry.
Fox 2's version of the story
These would surely qualify as seismic events in the lives of any two teenagers. But for Samantha Kelly and Joseph Tarnopolski, things were about to get much worse.
In early October, distressed by the hostility her daughter faced at school from Tarnopolski and his friends, June Justice contacted Detroit's Fox News affiliate, WJBK-TV (Channel 2). On Oct. 18, the station broadcast a 21/2-minute segment in which Samantha, accompanied on-screen by her mother, charged for the first time that Tarnopolski had forced himself on her. An anchor's introduction to the piece called it a case of rape.
The issue of coercion was irrelevant to the statutory charge prosecutors had lodged against Tarnopolski. But the Channel 2 broadcast complicated the case in two ways.
First, it introduced a new version of events inconsistent with both Samantha's previous accounts and her text messages to the defendant.
Second, it turned what had been a closely held secret into general knowledge among the 850 students at Huron High. Many sided with Tarnopolski, a popular upperclassman who vehemently denied Samantha's allegations of coercion and branded his accuser a liar.
Where were grown-ups?
Wednesday, a day after Samantha hanged herself in her family's home, June Justice charged that the taunting and bullying her daughter had endured in the last three weeks had directly precipitated her suicide. But that's hardly the whole story.
Surely, Samantha's decision to go public with her allegations -- supported by her mother and abetted by Fox 2 journalists -- left the 14-year-old dramatically more exposed to criticism and ridicule. The WJBK segment blurred Samantha's face, but the station broadcast clear video images of Tarnopolski, Justice and Huron High, and identified all three by name. The segment's prime-time airing ended both Samantha's anonymity and her alleged attacker's interest in keeping his own version of events to himself.
Then there was the new charge of coercion. Prosecutors frankly doubted the revised account Samantha had provided in the WJBK broadcast, and warned that they would not abet any attempt to exaggerate the circumstances of her encounter with Tarnopolski in his preliminary examination, which was scheduled for Wednesday.
It's reasonable to conclude that Samantha knew she was in for a humiliating experience if Tarnopolski's lawyers were permitted to cross-examine her. She knew she'd be asked to reconcile the differences between the account she had given prosecutors and the one she gave for TV. Had she simply neglected to mention in those initial interviews that she had been forcibly raped? Or had she embellished her account after some of her peers questioned her decision to press charges?
That's how it was bound to go down on the witness stand: Was she lying then -- or lying now?
The end of the world
Any adult would shrink from such an experience. To a 14-year-old, it must have looked like the end of the world -- and for Samantha Kelly, it was.
In court Wednesday, after the charges against Tarnopolski were dismissed, June Justice railed at the high school peers who taunted her daughter.
"All them peers really need to think now, more than they ever have before, what they did," she said. "I want to know how they're sleeping."
But teenagers didn't put a 14-year-old freshman in front of a TV camera and broadcast her teenage angst to the world.
There’s really not much more to say after reading this. Yes, schoolyard taunting had a great deal to do with this and we should all pay attention to it. we’re reading and hearing far too many stories related to it. it’s that second side to the story that makes me wonder even more about where we, as a society, have gone. It’s all such a shame on so many levels.
There are always three sides to every story. The first of which is what we’ve heard on the news. The third is the fact that this poor kid hung herself earlier this week and a young life ended far too soon. The second side of the story is more confusing than one could imagine. I’m pasting a story from today’s Free Press into this post for all to see. It’s an opinion piece, yet gives us all a better view into the events that took place.
Teen's life too short -- and too public
BY BRIAN DICKERSON DETROIT FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
Under Michigan law, it is illegal to have sex with a 14-year-old girl, even if she consents.
But there's no law against broadcasting on television the same 14-year-old's account of her sexual activity. And that's a shame, because if there were such a law, Samantha Kelly might still be alive today.
Late on Sept. 26, Samantha's mother, June Justice, told Huron Township police that her daughter, a freshman at Huron High School, admitted having sexual intercourse with Joseph Tarnopolski, an 18-year-old senior who lived eight homes down the road from theirs.
In a handwritten statement and two separate interviews conducted outside her mother's presence, Samantha said she and Tarnopolski had sex for two hours one morning while Tarnopolski's parents were away. She admitted telling Tarnopolski that she was anxious to lose her virginity. Police later found text message exchanges supporting the two teenagers' accounts that their sexual encounter had been consensual.
Those accounts, coupled with the fact that Samantha was too young to consent legally to sexual contact with anyone, gave prosecutors the grounds to charge Tarnopolski with third-degree criminal sexual conduct, a felony punishable by up to 15 years in prison and 25 years on Michigan's public sex offender registry.
Fox 2's version of the story
These would surely qualify as seismic events in the lives of any two teenagers. But for Samantha Kelly and Joseph Tarnopolski, things were about to get much worse.
In early October, distressed by the hostility her daughter faced at school from Tarnopolski and his friends, June Justice contacted Detroit's Fox News affiliate, WJBK-TV (Channel 2). On Oct. 18, the station broadcast a 21/2-minute segment in which Samantha, accompanied on-screen by her mother, charged for the first time that Tarnopolski had forced himself on her. An anchor's introduction to the piece called it a case of rape.
The issue of coercion was irrelevant to the statutory charge prosecutors had lodged against Tarnopolski. But the Channel 2 broadcast complicated the case in two ways.
First, it introduced a new version of events inconsistent with both Samantha's previous accounts and her text messages to the defendant.
Second, it turned what had been a closely held secret into general knowledge among the 850 students at Huron High. Many sided with Tarnopolski, a popular upperclassman who vehemently denied Samantha's allegations of coercion and branded his accuser a liar.
Where were grown-ups?
Wednesday, a day after Samantha hanged herself in her family's home, June Justice charged that the taunting and bullying her daughter had endured in the last three weeks had directly precipitated her suicide. But that's hardly the whole story.
Surely, Samantha's decision to go public with her allegations -- supported by her mother and abetted by Fox 2 journalists -- left the 14-year-old dramatically more exposed to criticism and ridicule. The WJBK segment blurred Samantha's face, but the station broadcast clear video images of Tarnopolski, Justice and Huron High, and identified all three by name. The segment's prime-time airing ended both Samantha's anonymity and her alleged attacker's interest in keeping his own version of events to himself.
Then there was the new charge of coercion. Prosecutors frankly doubted the revised account Samantha had provided in the WJBK broadcast, and warned that they would not abet any attempt to exaggerate the circumstances of her encounter with Tarnopolski in his preliminary examination, which was scheduled for Wednesday.
It's reasonable to conclude that Samantha knew she was in for a humiliating experience if Tarnopolski's lawyers were permitted to cross-examine her. She knew she'd be asked to reconcile the differences between the account she had given prosecutors and the one she gave for TV. Had she simply neglected to mention in those initial interviews that she had been forcibly raped? Or had she embellished her account after some of her peers questioned her decision to press charges?
That's how it was bound to go down on the witness stand: Was she lying then -- or lying now?
The end of the world
Any adult would shrink from such an experience. To a 14-year-old, it must have looked like the end of the world -- and for Samantha Kelly, it was.
In court Wednesday, after the charges against Tarnopolski were dismissed, June Justice railed at the high school peers who taunted her daughter.
"All them peers really need to think now, more than they ever have before, what they did," she said. "I want to know how they're sleeping."
But teenagers didn't put a 14-year-old freshman in front of a TV camera and broadcast her teenage angst to the world.
There’s really not much more to say after reading this. Yes, schoolyard taunting had a great deal to do with this and we should all pay attention to it. we’re reading and hearing far too many stories related to it. it’s that second side to the story that makes me wonder even more about where we, as a society, have gone. It’s all such a shame on so many levels.
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