They say they don't discriminate, but then they see that I have a history of being in jail (once; was in for a total of three months, or 12 weeks), and they don't even want to touch me.  They don't want to give me a chance; they pass me by for someone else.  It never fails.  It is enough to make me even more depressed than what I already am.

Doesn't help that I have this stupid monkey-hand of mine.  People see that too and it's like they think "he can't do anything; he's no good.  He's useless."  How do you think that makes me feel?

I have been staying with my folks.  They appreciate the fact that I have been trying to find work, but dang, I wish someone would give me a break and hire me!  I'm a good worker; Lord knows, I didn't mean to steal the tools from Wal+Mart; I was goaded into it and I happened to be caught, thanks to the security cameras running at the time.  Didn't know they were on and got caught.  BUSTED!

I no longer hang around with the goons who made me steal the tools, but I still see them from time to time.  I know they must hate me: every time they see me, they turn and walk the other way like I'm a walking zombie or have a bad case of the bubonic plague or something.  It's really irritating!

I have been going to counseling to help me deal with my ongoing depression and to overcome my "little theft problem"; while I haven't stolen anything since getting out of the clink, I still feel worthless and like a burden to society.  I look at my monkey-hand and I want nothing more than to chop it off, but then, what good would that do?  I'd have five fingers instead of seven and that would only make things worse for me.  So I'm caught between a rock and a hard place.

Just say some prayers for me, your buddy-pal, "Seven-Fingers".  I could use a miracle (or two or possibly even three!).  I would greatly appreciate it; life has gotta be a lot easier than this!!

~To be continued.~