Hello, My Names is...

No t e b o o k:

al grAy

Cre at e d :

10/25/2013 12:46 PM

Up d at e d :

2/6/2014 10:21 AM

My name is not Al Gray, but in my journaled words this is my life:

When I was 3 I started playing tennis. At age 7 I was fired by my piano teacher because she
would not listen to my instruction. At age 9 I went to my first Big Game and rooted for the
Cardinal. In junior high I taught adults Tae Kwon Do, which was before I had received my black
belt. In high school I struggled to balance my conservative Christian faith with football life. My
freshman year I lived in a mansion with an indoor pool, my senior year we lived in a home without
a shower. My lifelong takeaways from that era were great friends, and a belief in the ethos of Men
for Others.
In college I found new peaks and even greater valleys. Trying to play football, while learning and
growing; also trying to follow in the footsteps of my hero, aka dad. I jumped into the real estate
and construction business my sophomore year. My junior year saw my dad imprisoned, me
employed full-time in construction management internship. I failed art appreciation; it started off
with my stern commentary on what my professor glorified as modern art and that set the course
for the semester. I received a D in public communication, mainly from setting a 2 drink minimum
before leaving for the 7 pm class. Not because I was afraid or nervous about public speaking,
mostly just to see if I could do it. I would have done a lot better in the course if I had not literally
passed out during the final. That summer I tried missionary werk in Scotland and broke my back.
I took a semester off, tried to transfer to State, but just went back to where I was comfortable. 27
units shy of graduating I decided to just knock them all out in a single semester. I received my
best overall marks while on a steady dose of vicodin and muscle relaxers. I graduated with a
business degree, having abandoned my plans for a double degree of accounting and theology; I
boldly went to work with the family business that had been blossoming after my dads release.
I graduated on a Saturday, moved home on Sunday, and retained an attorney on Monday. With
investments made in college, through dad of course; we paid cash for my back surgery and after
my recovery I went to work.
My dad had always been my mentor, but now I got unfettered access to his guile. I learned
quickly, trained and paid attention, and wanted to become a master in the Art of the Deal. Soon
rifts in the family business drove my dad and I towards something new and different. Soon, we
had founded our own business; my lifelong dream of partnering with Dad on a new venture had
started.
At first it was more of the same real estate development, until one day... I told this guy Jon that
what I really wanted to do was develop high rises; halfway joking the way I always would with
such fanciful dreams: Jon responds back 'REALLY!? lets meet for lunch.' Days later we were
literally and figuratively in the high rise business. I re-read my Donald Trump books, found
inspiration from Cupertino for a new company name, and I got my team to believe we were going
take over San Jose. I can only describe my belief in this as that of a conservative Christian's belief
in Heaven, the belief was so strong that it was preordained. If there was a God he meant for me
to be a high rise developer.
But wait let's not forget about love and women. During this time there were two. And sadly

despite my incredible love for them both; neither of their love for me could withstand the bad
decisions that I made inside this pressure cooker. As I sit here now; I am floored to realize that
losing at love is far worse than losing any fight.
In 2008 I was working out, watching the news and it hit me. I had been in New York weeks prior
and I was watching these people streaming out of a building I had just visited. All of it was clear in
that brief moment, all hope was lost in that instant. I spent the following months fighting the
negativity, fighting a beast that nobody could best. We kept trying. We continued to try until the
day we were evicted from our office. Every company and personal account empty, every favor
called in; we tried and we failed at our best.
Moving from Santana Row into my fiances garage in Castro Valley; I figured I might as well follow
my would be mentor, The Donald, and tried my hand in multi-level marketing with a group he was
affiliated with at the time. This would be just the second in a line of embarrassing failures.
In the summer of 2009 I filed bankruptcy on a Monday, and got married the following Saturday.
For two months I was blissfully married, unconcerned about the hell still ahead of me. I did not
wake up until my bankruptcy hearings first round of questioning "Mr. Erickson did you go to
Thailand for your honeymoon." I paused and responded "yes, my friends and family gifted us the"
he cut me off "just a yes will be fine." My eyes filled up with tears and my heart did not call out to
my wife, but to the blunt I had rolled and waiting. Marijuana was for fun up until now. Blazing on
the way home my heart sank, my soul died, and I cried. It was on now, They were coming for me
and there was little I could do but wait for the storm.
Depressed I disengaged in the process. At the time I justified the depression and anxiety as just
playing the hand I was dealt. I found a stable job, but found a preference for weed over werk. I
let my dads bk take the lead as I abandoned my case. Up until just before it would be fully default;
I woke up again for a about a week and handled the business. I had in actuality been terribly
depressed and as such was not making up a story to the judge. Even though I know everyone
else, even myself, believed I was just playing the game.
So many good times were had, but felt past over because the love of my wife was quickly fading.
We continued as friends and companions, but hardly lovers. Upon returning from a 2 week
vacation in 2011, that felt inspired and was going to be the turn around point for our marriage; I
got laid off. Unemployed now, I fell off the cliff.
I filed for unemployment. But I was battling a new enemy. The Internet. One of the investors, a
religious zealot of sorts, had taken to interwebs to flame me and family. I would have great first
interviews, and nary a second. Soon, I began seeing patterns. Patterns I had not seen since high
school. Reports of interviews with the FBI from friends and associates, strange calls from old
business partners and bank managers. I had been in high school when my dad went through this;
but now they were after me and I felt it.
I started dating my wife in 2007, after her company and mine had a little soire and we played
pool at our office until 230 AM. I had to pull my business from of her office once we were dating
seriously, and she never understood why. We were now approaching a period in time where all I
needed in the world was her trust.
Sadly her trust in me had been wiped away when we were dating. You see there was that other
girl, who one day called me from Denver and she had been assaulted in a new strange city. I flew

there that afternoon, and took her to the police station the next day. My girlfriend not believing my
story met me at the airport when when I returned that Saturday. I lied. And what is werse it was
just the beginning.
My passion for this other woman had been rekindled and with business slowly collapsing during
2008 she became a welcome distraction. With Julie my passion for living life and working hard I
was genuinely alive with her. Leslie fueled my passion for art and story, and while I never
physically cheated on Julie my emotions ran wild for Leslie.
In Italy I write to Leslie and lied to Julie. I feel this is the point where I ruined Julie's love for me. I
was never in love with Leslie during this time, only the idea of her. Soon I would be engaged to
Julie and in Las Vegas with Leslie. The closest I came to laying with Leslie was watching her get
out of her separate bed each morning in nothing but underwear. My final night there I received a
call from a friend, the jig was up, he knew, and he was going to tell Julie. I had left her ticket on
the company printer. What a dumbass. And what is worse is while out there I had realized my
grave mistake and could only hope to keep pandora in the box. But my employees had other plans.
The following Tuesday, the one before thanksgiving in 2008 my love triangle collapsed. Sadly, I
was able to keep my engagement on and push Leslie out, and move forward with my life. But
Julie didn't tell anyone what I had done, she locked it away and never genuinely forgave anyone
But now it was 2012, I was being investigated by local and federal agencies, I was manically
depressed and she did not trust or believe in me. Seeing the writing on the wall, and lesbians she
had began hanging out with I began my long-term planning. Her sister had a baby, I never held it.
I became an unabashed fan of hardcore porn, and smoked as much weed as I could afford.
We remained companions, me constantly being accused of lies big and small. But just as often as I
was accused of too much porn and weed, I had been at home sober and just waiting for her to get
home so we could be together. But her trust in me had been vanquished and whether or not I had
been high watching porn all day or not no longer mattered... That's who I had become to her.
She gave me six months. I told her I would coach football with that time, because, well it was a
job I could actually get. I also decided that I would explore my own sexuality, as I had become
increasingly convinced that is what she was doing with her new friends. So with the same gusto
that I became a developer, I decided I'd try going gay. So before football started I hunted out a
couple dominate men on Craigslist to abuse me, and it went ok. I did my best to not hide from my
wife, I wanted her to know, I wanted to get her away from me... Because I knew the potential cost
to her and me if I got charged and we were married.
I had a blast coaching football but became desparate to escape my marriage in which I was
distrusted and not liked by anyone around me. Soon I got the paperwork I had expected and I was
on my way out.
I had moved back in with my parents before, and we had always gotten along. Broke, and failing
at my mortgage job, I took a second job with a friend. It got me through the winter, as I failed at
being a loan officer. I had lost my innate ability and enthusiasm to sell people. Even if they
qualified for a loan, I couldn't be convinced it was a good idea for them. So while I failed at the
loan business, I got high and succeeded wildly in my part time retail sales and customer service
position.

On one of my last Fridays before the end of the spring season I was let off work a half hour early.
I drove home and arrived to a Sheriffs car parked in front of our gate "good afternoon officer, is
there something I can help you with?!" He looked at me puzzled and tried to evade my questions, I
used my car to block his and got out. Eventually he gave up that he was executing an arrest
warrant for the owner of the property, aka dad, I asked if he additional warrants, and he said no. I
walked down the hill to see my dad in the back of another car. Poking my head near the window I
shouted out " you hang in there, Dad!" And I backed away peacefully, moved my car and watched
them roll away with my dad.
Soon I was working the phones, having mentally rehearsed this scenario extensively I did not
hesitate. My mom got to see him the next day. But it was not until Monday that we found the
charges levied against him. Among them grand theft, fraud, and failure to file paperwork with the
state. At the very end, as I had long feared there was the request for my arrest right underneath
his.
My dads lawyer was able to set up my eventual surrender, along with my uncles. I was lost in this
whirlwind. I freaked out, tried to confide in a girl I was seeing; but was driven back into my hyper
sexual submissive gay persona. She broke up with me a few weeks later, and I decided to try gay
again. Once again it really didn't take, it was something, rather someone for me to do, a very
discomforting way of trying to comfort this fall. But was I doing this out actual gay desire or I was I
doing this as a defensive strategy during war time? In the end it mattered not, it was happening.
Soon I curtailed my exploration as I my sexual misadventures had led me to a planned locker room
rendezvous at a junior college. Finally, my mind got a hold of itself and let all of that go. But how
do I move forward now? I have destroyed myself, my reputation and most of the relationships that
mattered to me.
I've been talking for too long now and it's time to wrap this up. I can't really talk about any of this,
not yet anyway, at least not on a paper trail. What do you think? Do you want to help shape how
this story ends? Wait until you meet all of the characters I met along the way!
Well, this who I am. A lost embattled soul in need of a safe home to learn and grow into the next
stage of life. Some say I have PTSD and need therapy, some say I need to get a job, sometimes I
want to be whisked away to mental institution, I have evernote to prove it. But really what I yearn
and long for these days is an education that can help me grow beyond my shattered life. I believe
I am capable of something great in this life, but I firmly believe an outstanding education should be
next for me.