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Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Hyper Sensitivity

Tonight someone asked me about the day I left Carswell. They wanted to hear how I felt, not just what I did. It's always so much easier to just go through the motions of the day, rather than how it all felt. At first, I said, "anxious," but that's not really the right thing. The closest I could get was, "hyper sensitive."

On the day you walk out of prison and into the rest of the world, everything is suddenly new once again. You get so used to the limitations and realities of life incarcerated, that you don't realize how insane everything is. There are bright colors everywhere. Signs advertising everything. Music. People on cell phone walking and not paying attention. People annoyed being in a short line. Space that has no specific purpose. Artwork. All kind of haircuts. Children. Laughter. Polite security people. Routines. Smiles. People who say, "excuse me," and, "thank you." Rude folks that bump into you. Smells ruminating from restaurants. The smell of McDonald's fries. People running places. Laptops. Pay phones. Calling cards. Cash. Empty chairs. Strangers. All kinds of shoes. Moving sidewalks. 

There's so much and it's all at the same time. Nothing happens fast at Carswell, but everything happens fast in the real world. Strangers talk to you. People sitting next to you are interested in what you are reading. You appear to be the only person without a cell phone, and everyone else's face is buried in theirs. I noticed it all. I tried to capture moments in my writing. There is so much we take for granted on the outside. I don't want to take anything or anyone for granted.

I'll keep thinking about the best words to describe that day, but for now hyper sensitive works for me. I noticed the little things that we usually stop noticing. After prison, tattoos are normal and dressing up is not. Pen and paper is normal and texting is not. A cafeteria is normal and a restaurant is not. A see through bag is normal and luggage is not. Grey and khaki are normal, red and black are not.

I'm home long enough now that I'm starting to get used to everything once again. T.S. did not want me to bring my cell phone with me to watch softball tonight, since I'm constantly using it. I left the phone at home. I'm back to posting nearly everyday on Facebook. I'm driving and not always paying attention to the constant advertisements in my face. I'm back to enjoying working with data and evaluation tools (total geek). 

I'm still quite aware, though. I walk a lot more, even if I don't have to. I try to make sure I thank people properly for everything. I'm more sensitive to the costs of things. I try to avoid khaki. I care about how I look a lot more. I tell those I care about that I love them every time I say goodbye. I still read my Peace a Day at a Time book every night before bed. I care less about what people think of me and have a lot more gusto to go after my goals. I say prayers for my friends still locked up and hope they will get opportunities to experience the hyper sensitivity soon as well.

At no point did I feel excited or particularly happy on the day I left Carswell. The minute Red was put in a cell, I felt the crushing reality of still being in BOP custody. Anything could happen to any of us at any time. I was at peace, though. I knew that I was walking out of the fences and cinder block walls for good. I was one step closer to freedom!


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