I Didn't Want to Lie to You

On 9/11/2013 Dragonfly Hazel wrote a letter to Survivor during a really tough day. It did not start or end with "I am okay." The truth was, she could not lie to Survivor:

9-11-13 

Survivor,

Just finished the final standing count of the day. I’m in my bed trying desperately to stop the water falling from my eyes. I’m telling myself the serenity prayer. I’m repeating that, “other people’s opinions are none of my business.” I am just not emotionally strong or capable of handling the meanness of people here, especially some of my roommates and no one has my back. No matter what kind of “friendship” I think I’m forming, in the end the only person here I can count on is myself. Recovery wise I am strong but part of my recovery was to “feel” again. I had years of barely ever crying in my life, but feeling comes with consequences and my tears are one of those consequences. People tell me to be strong, but I’m not made that way. I am kind and sensitive, both of which are weaknesses in prison.

So, what happened? My roommate [Danbury] made us dinner tonight. I assisted a bit. We had fun and enjoyed the food. My roommate separated the food in 7 pieces, one for each of us, but 3 of the roommates were not here at the time, so the food was put aside for them. Around 8:40pm, I came back to my unit/room from the email office. We all have to be in our room at that time. Well, the roommate who cooked, offered the food to the others and when one of them didn’t immediately take her up on it, I added that the food is really good. Supporting the roommate that cooked. Suddenly, the other roommate [Hust] who had declined the food screams at me to not butt into the conversation. It’s not like it was a personal, private conversation. Then she tells me that everyone in the room is just annoyed and frustrated with me, since I “know” things and sometimes give my thoughts on stuff. Everyone else is allowed to, but I guess I am not. I pointed out that she often gives her opinion on things I’m talking about and/or breaks into conversations as well. We are a ‘room’ and people just talk all the time. They just don’t want me talking. I sure as hell don’t think it’s a good thing to fit in at prison. South, my older “friend,” said nothing, she just reacted facially to the other roommates mean, hurtful comments. That’s the thing about prison, no one has your back, silence is our safety.

So, I just lie down, open my book, start trying to read and hide my tears. But, my friend Chi comes by and wants to talk, so I go out of the room with her and she can see I’m upset, but I won’t’ tell her why, she just knows my roommates can be particularity mean. They are in the bus stop because of their past actions (unless they are new) including time in the SHU, fights, mouthing off, and more. I am stuck here because the minute a lower bunk opens somewhere, there is a new inmate placed in it. I am stuck due to no bed space anywhere.

I get back in my room and my roommate immediately think I was talking about her and I was not. I said nothing, Chi saw I was upset and comforted me, but I have held true to my conviction to tell on no one for any reason, to avoid getting beat up or worse. So, as she is telling me not to talk about her, I reply, “I don’t talk about you.” Such satisfaction she gets from her power trip, I have only been nice to her, but she can’t stand that I have a hard time bending down to get things under beds, that I am educated, that I follow the rules here and don’t engage in the underground market, and that I have commissary funds. She doesn’t like that on my second day, I did not hide food for a different roommate whose locker was being searched and that I said, “I’m here to do my time, not anyone else’s.” She hates the amount of mail I get. She calls me a brat because of my outside community of support. Putting me down is her power trip. She said everyone is annoyed with me, yet who gave her the power to speak for everyone in the room? I didn’t see or hear anyone else nodding or agreeing. These are strong women from the streets, involved in humongous drug rings. Yet, I know that inside they are just a product of unfair circumstances and/or addiction. They have fired guns, been in fist fights, and have high violence tendency. I am a “0” on the prison’s violence scale. They are imprisoned for years, the woman harassing me has been here 10 years. 

Meeting someone like me probably makes no sense to her. Later, as I was reading, Hust came over to my bed, not to apologize per se, but to hug me and tell me she still likes me. I guess she got an earful when I was out talking to Chi. I sat here and she hugged me, but I did not return the hug, no matter how hard she tried. All I said to her was, “Okay” to whatever she said, acknowledging but not forgiving. This is the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and it is important that I forgive, but I need time. Her hug made me think of any abuser, who goes psycho, but then tries to hug for forgiveness. She stated clearly that she does not think she did anything wrong, as she is “warning” me because other inmates will treat me even worse. Like somehow her actions will change me and my personality?!? What if I have finally come to terms to accept myself just the way I am and I do not need a career offender telling me how I should “act.” I am humble, giving, sincere, and honest. I choose to maintain these qualities, even if it means that I am not liked. 

This is not about being comfortable in prison, my goal is to accept responsibility for my past actions and to accept that it means spending months being uncomfortable and out of place in this place. 

People do not have to like me, but I cannot be their verbal punching bag either. I had a harassing supervisor at [a past job] who put me in a bad place, but I had choices and could leave that job and the harassment. Here, I have no choices. I must handle everything with no place to feel safe or accepted/acceptable.

I do not want to be hardened by this experience. Recovery gave me the right to have emotions. I feel prison will try to take it away. Every day, my letters and emails help me hold true to my true self. I will continue to be so grateful for the short breaks they give me from my current reality.

Okay, I know, depressing letter, ugh. But I can’t give a therapy and I needed to get all of this out. Thank you for reading.

Love, Dragonfly

p.s. Sorry I didn’t start this letter with, “I am okay.” I didn’t want to lie to you.