From Dragonfly: When It Is Hard To Stay Positive

I admit that some days I struggle with trying to stay positive. I get so frustrated with everything and my mood gets sour. But, I certainly don't want to spend the next several months in such negativity, so I have to find peace within myself some way. One thing I keep reminding myself, is that I will not be here forever. I try to think of Nelson Mandela or people suffering in the Holocaust, and perspective helps a lot. This is just one year of my life. There are people in the rooms around me who will, literally, spend the last days of their lives here (or in some prison somewhere). I, also, received a sentence far below the minimum standards, so I am here for far less time than I could have been. I need to be grateful for all of that, and not maintain a bad mood.

Honestly, my favorite part of the day, is the minutes between 9:30pm count and 10pm, when I am getting all snugly in my bed and know that I will fall asleep soon. One issue is that my fatigue is extremely heightened right now, but, also, it will be another day gone by and a day closer to getting home. I used to suffer from extreme insomnia. Not since I got sick. Now, I could sleep all day long if I am allowed to. It's been that way for the past 1 1/2 years, and sometimes it is a real struggle to stay awake in the afternoons, but I do. So, when it's officially time to lie down for the night, and get a good 6-8 hours of sleep, my body is more than happy to comply.

I no longer wake up surprised by my surroundings. That will probably happen next when I am in the comfort of my own bed. Instead, I expect the cinder block squares staring me in the face. I expect the light snores of my roommates. I expect the hard, cold, concrete floors when I walk, slowly, to the bathroom. Slowly because I hurt when I wake and I need time to wake up my joints and muscles. I'm not the only one who walks quite stiffly in the morning. In fact, just this morning I was thinking about how we must all look like zombies, slowly, and stiffly, walking ourselves to the restroom in the morning. We do not say anything, but maybe "grunt" a 'hello' as we pass one another, for fear of waking up folks. Zombies, yep, that's what we are.

By the time I head to breakfast with Freckles, I'm usually much more limber. Just the walk between the housing unit and the hospital in this freezing weather will wake anyone up. I head to the email room and wait for Freckles to meet me. Then, we head downstairs to the chow hall. I tend to bring my own cereal (from commissary), because I don't like the breakfast options. But, breakfast is not really an option to me, because it's the only time we are given access to milk or anything really dairy. I need the calcium and always look forward to that clear bag of milk.

These routines can weigh heavy on me, though. Some days, I just want to sleep, but I wake up nonetheless. I go about all my daily expectations, doing the same thing day in and day out. Some days, I don't really know the day of the week, but luckily my watch will remind me. Last Friday, South went through the entire day thinking it was Thursday. These things happen here. I always have my call-out for my injections on Mondays and Fridays, so it's a little easier for me to keep track of the days that way. It's kind of like in a casino - where they provide no clocks and tinted windows and it encourages people to gamble much longer, because the time of day is hidden. Here, there are no calendars, so our number of days here or left is hidden.

Although all this is true, my battle is just with getting through each day in a positive mood. The best parts of my waking hours are still at work, helping students learn, and learning so much myself. I think I'm going to re-take the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) when I am released. I hope to score higher (although it's a different test), now that I've been helping people with algebra and geometry on a daily basis. A higher score will give me more latitude in my attempts to get back in school.

I think my positivity is also affected by the fact of so many unknowns as to why I'm not at the camp across the street yet and, also, if I will be given halfway house. Technically, I am currently within the months I was "given" for halfway house (120-150 days). However, my halfway house papers have not yet been sent off. There are a million excuses on why not, but I don't want to be one of the statistics of people who have to stay here until their actual "out" date, because of paperwork. I think once the days come that are possible to be home, and you are still here, it weighs heavy on you. I just keep wondering, "when will I be leaving?" I ask this to blank faces. My case worker "promises" that I am leaving soon, before my home confinement date. I hold onto that for hope!

Okay, I have to run to work. I'm going to do my best to stay positive today. I was paid my $23 payroll for the month of January. Whoo hoo. I paid out my $40/month FRP. Whoo hoo. I had breakfast with Freckles. Whoo hoo. I am alive, walking, talking, thinking, and feeling. Whoo hoo. I watched someone I like walk out of prison today. Whoo hoo. Someday, that will be me.