I am finding myself very reflective right now. People are going about their typical daily business, as am I, but I find myself spending more time in bed - reading, thinking, writing... Red says that she wishes she could just sleep these last few days away. I understand that comment. If I could just wake up and it be Wednesday morning, I wouldn't really miss anything.
As my final weekend imprisoned looms, though, I do have some things to do. I will take 5 more pictures with friends - leaving an envelope behind so that they can be mailed to me at home. I will get in some breakfasts, walking, and work-outs with Freckles - we have three days to be active together. Perhaps I will pick-up a canasta game or two with Mama and friends. I will enjoy a meal with many. Most of all, though, I will reflect. I will memorize what it was like to be a prisoner, so I can effectively write about the experience; so I can never forget how far an addiction can take me; so I can look back and be proud of how I've gotten through this experience; so I can always know that I've paid the price for my past behavior and I no longer have to look in the rear view mirror - it's about today and the future is yet to come.
I may stay away from my old khaki clothing for a while. It's time to wear some bright colors in my life. I can't wait to move into new habits and not old habits. My goals are to stay active, cook (learn to really cook), keep writing, get back in school, give back to my community, attend GA meetings, be open and honest about myself and my past, take Hope for as many rides as possible, notice everything around me that is beautiful, never walk away from a great sunset, keep trying to be creative, care for children, love open and honest, take care of all my healthcare needs, be grateful, meditate, always look to my higher power, go geocaching, enjoy movies, read more, television less, be a good friend, stay open-minded, keep in contact with everyone of the people who have helped me through the last six years, stay humble, and practice forgiveness. Well, at least that's the goal list I have in my head at this moment.
I think it's important to always have goals - a fire in your belly of what you are passionate about. Even in the hayday of my addiction, I still tried to reach my goals. I failed often, but I never gave up. In my recovery, "hope" became the word for all my goals. I've waned from my hope at times while in here, but the fire in me is once again burning. I have a lot of hope for myself and everyone I care about. I don't know what the future will bring, but I know it will be amazing! Of that, I have no doubt.
I am spending the next several days making the best of where I am and preparing for the next phase of my life. I can't sleep through it. I must focus on the things I can do to make each day the best it can be.
A blog about a woman sentenced to one year and one day in a federal women's prison camp and was sent to FMC Carswell for a crime related to her history of compulsive gambling.
Highlights
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Saturday, May 24, 2014
From Dragonfly: The Embarrassment of Leaving
Okay, I won't exactly call it "embarrassment," but sharing with folks doesn't seem right. There are people here, good people, who have years to go, and I've just been inside for 9 months. I am really a lucky one! My sentence could have been far worse. Luckily, my recovery, my work on myself, my trying to move forward in a healthy way, helped me get a downward departure from the sentencing guidelines. Many are not so lucky. Many, do not have years to rebuild their lives. Had I been charged back in 2008, it wouldn't have gone so well. In fact, I'm not sure I would be around at all.
As I've written, each day here feels like a week, a week a month, a month a year... It all feels like forever. But, once you do the time, you look back, and it wasn't that long. It really wasn't. Sure, I missed a lot of things on the outside. Life moved forward for everyone, but me. Doing time is do-able, though, it really is. It does not need to define your life. You do not have to move through your prison experience in shame and guilt. Do your time, keep yourself busy, make a few friends you trust, follow the rules best you can, hold off your anger, laugh when you can, sleep, eat, work out, make something creative, play a game, and your time will go by. You can do this. If I can do this, you can do this!!!
I think the prison life goes in cycles. There are cycles of anger/frustration; cycles of happiness; cycles of shame; cycles of fear; cycles of acceptance. Then there are the cycles of being a newcomer in a prison, getting adjusted, becoming "in the know," and preparing for leaving. Those in the first three cycles can be jealous of those in the last cycle. I'm in the last cycle. I am leaving people behind. They are happy for me, but sad for themselves. It sucks that humans are like that - we can't help but compare ourselves. I know I am lucky. Lucky in the right ways - not the gambling ways. I never gambled with my prison experience. I always tried to do the best I could. I wasn't perfect, but I never saw the inside of the SHU. I never received a shot (disciplinary sanction). I spent my days trying best I could to be productive and make the time go in a healthy way. I spent time with people with that same goal.
I am leaving. I will be walking out of here in 4 days and a wake-up. I have my box mostly filled with things to take to property on Tuesday. I'm giving away things I won't need. People ask when I'm leaving, I tell them. Some are genuinely happy for me. Some, imagine what it would be like to leave. One day, soon, it will be them. I will celebrate the exit of each and every one of them - the non-violent, non-child related crimes, where people are here for way too long. I wish I could take the hand of them all and we could walk out of here. I wish I could say "goodbye" to Lola. I wish Appeal will win her appeal and leave. I wish Mama was told she is going closer to home, or just to home. I wish Glitter wasn't facing time in state prison after this - for the same set of facts. I wish Mexico could stay in the U.S. and take care of her kids. I wish Taz wasn't facing years here with some pretty serious health issues coming up. There are so many people I wish I could help, but in prison, it's most important to take care of yourself. So many people have had such a big impact on me, and I pray I've left them all with a bit of "HOPE." That would be something special.
I guess I'm not embarrassed to be leaving. It's what I've fought for since before I even stepped foot here. I just feel for the many others, here, who are not yet in that last piece of the prison cycle. Although, if we all live just "one day at a time," it makes little difference, because right now, we are all here. We are facing this life. We are trying to make the best decisions we can. We are spending time with one another. We pray for our release.
As I've written, each day here feels like a week, a week a month, a month a year... It all feels like forever. But, once you do the time, you look back, and it wasn't that long. It really wasn't. Sure, I missed a lot of things on the outside. Life moved forward for everyone, but me. Doing time is do-able, though, it really is. It does not need to define your life. You do not have to move through your prison experience in shame and guilt. Do your time, keep yourself busy, make a few friends you trust, follow the rules best you can, hold off your anger, laugh when you can, sleep, eat, work out, make something creative, play a game, and your time will go by. You can do this. If I can do this, you can do this!!!
I think the prison life goes in cycles. There are cycles of anger/frustration; cycles of happiness; cycles of shame; cycles of fear; cycles of acceptance. Then there are the cycles of being a newcomer in a prison, getting adjusted, becoming "in the know," and preparing for leaving. Those in the first three cycles can be jealous of those in the last cycle. I'm in the last cycle. I am leaving people behind. They are happy for me, but sad for themselves. It sucks that humans are like that - we can't help but compare ourselves. I know I am lucky. Lucky in the right ways - not the gambling ways. I never gambled with my prison experience. I always tried to do the best I could. I wasn't perfect, but I never saw the inside of the SHU. I never received a shot (disciplinary sanction). I spent my days trying best I could to be productive and make the time go in a healthy way. I spent time with people with that same goal.
I am leaving. I will be walking out of here in 4 days and a wake-up. I have my box mostly filled with things to take to property on Tuesday. I'm giving away things I won't need. People ask when I'm leaving, I tell them. Some are genuinely happy for me. Some, imagine what it would be like to leave. One day, soon, it will be them. I will celebrate the exit of each and every one of them - the non-violent, non-child related crimes, where people are here for way too long. I wish I could take the hand of them all and we could walk out of here. I wish I could say "goodbye" to Lola. I wish Appeal will win her appeal and leave. I wish Mama was told she is going closer to home, or just to home. I wish Glitter wasn't facing time in state prison after this - for the same set of facts. I wish Mexico could stay in the U.S. and take care of her kids. I wish Taz wasn't facing years here with some pretty serious health issues coming up. There are so many people I wish I could help, but in prison, it's most important to take care of yourself. So many people have had such a big impact on me, and I pray I've left them all with a bit of "HOPE." That would be something special.
I guess I'm not embarrassed to be leaving. It's what I've fought for since before I even stepped foot here. I just feel for the many others, here, who are not yet in that last piece of the prison cycle. Although, if we all live just "one day at a time," it makes little difference, because right now, we are all here. We are facing this life. We are trying to make the best decisions we can. We are spending time with one another. We pray for our release.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
From Dragonfly: Smile
"I'm coming home, I'm coming home, tell the world..." Yep, still singing the jingle!! Actually, with a big smile on my face. I am not only going home, but I have my travel plans!!! They bought me an airline ticket!!!! No long days busing it! I'm happy. Truly.
This morning I had to sign my travel plans and have my thumb print once again taken. I guess they will compare the print at the halfway house to make sure it's really me checking in. I will be considered on "furlough" for the hours of my travel. I will be brought to the airport by town car and am given taxi fare to get from the airport to the halfway house on the other end. I will receive $14 for two meals - $7 each. I am told that I must go straight to the halfway house. There is a time I'm expected by and I cannot be late - it's the exact amount of time a taxi should take from the local airport. I will have a decent layover at an airport close to my family, but I am not allowed to leave the airport. I am still in custody, technically. I will be until my out date of July 2nd.
I am packing up two boxes. One will hold the nice blanket I had made for me when I first arrived and the blanket I am still working on with some yarn. The other box will contain everything else I am taking home. 9 months of my life will fit in that box. It's more than I came with, though.
I still have not seen my doctor. I'm not sure I'll meet her before I'm headed home - with the long weekend and all. That's okay, I'll be seeing my doc next week. I can't believe I'm really going. It hasn't hit me, yet. I don't think it really will until I am wearing my own clothes and walking out the door.
So, I guess next week starts the next chapter of my life - in custody, but free of the fences and the prison. I will have visitors of friends and family. I will be using my email, instead of Trulincs. I can google again. I can make a call on my cell phone. I can listen to a tv without earphones. I can type a letter to someone. I can go back to being a working woman. I can make more than 17 cents/hour. I can pay my own bills. I can attend GA meetings. Yes, my life moves forward again. I am so very grateful.
This morning I had to sign my travel plans and have my thumb print once again taken. I guess they will compare the print at the halfway house to make sure it's really me checking in. I will be considered on "furlough" for the hours of my travel. I will be brought to the airport by town car and am given taxi fare to get from the airport to the halfway house on the other end. I will receive $14 for two meals - $7 each. I am told that I must go straight to the halfway house. There is a time I'm expected by and I cannot be late - it's the exact amount of time a taxi should take from the local airport. I will have a decent layover at an airport close to my family, but I am not allowed to leave the airport. I am still in custody, technically. I will be until my out date of July 2nd.
I am packing up two boxes. One will hold the nice blanket I had made for me when I first arrived and the blanket I am still working on with some yarn. The other box will contain everything else I am taking home. 9 months of my life will fit in that box. It's more than I came with, though.
I still have not seen my doctor. I'm not sure I'll meet her before I'm headed home - with the long weekend and all. That's okay, I'll be seeing my doc next week. I can't believe I'm really going. It hasn't hit me, yet. I don't think it really will until I am wearing my own clothes and walking out the door.
So, I guess next week starts the next chapter of my life - in custody, but free of the fences and the prison. I will have visitors of friends and family. I will be using my email, instead of Trulincs. I can google again. I can make a call on my cell phone. I can listen to a tv without earphones. I can type a letter to someone. I can go back to being a working woman. I can make more than 17 cents/hour. I can pay my own bills. I can attend GA meetings. Yes, my life moves forward again. I am so very grateful.
From Dragonfly: Prepared to Walk
Six days and a wake-up and I do not have my travel plans. That's okay, though, because I am prepared to walk home. Why else have I been working out hard every day for the past month or so? It may take me a year, at my pace, but I'm sure I'll see some beautiful and interesting places in America!
Okay, seriously, I am surprised that I have not been "called" down for my travel planning, yet. I've talked to the people who make those arrangements three times in as many days, but there's "nothing" they can do until they hear back from medical about whether they need to fly me or if I can be bused. No matter what arguments I put before them, it is my doctor, the one I've never met, who decides what method(s) of transportation are right for me. The fact that I need to have an injection on Tuesday (since Monday is a federal holiday) is something I am unable to even present, but will, if/when they finally call me in. I know one thing for sure, the woman who makes the travel plans is not here Friday, Saturday, Sunday or Monday... so tomorrow and Tuesday are the only days my arrangements can be made. Otherwise, I'm serious about walking if I have to. I am leaving a week from today.
I received a packet of information from my halfway house last night. They must have overnighted it to my case manager, as it is original documents and was just mailed. It consists of the rules and regulations and a form for my signature that I agree to abide by them. I read them in full last night and there's nothing unexpected. I'm allowed a cell phone, but have to keep it locked in a locker at the entrance except when I'm leaving the facility. I will have a curfew. I will have assigned chores. I will be responsible for my own transportation. Many of the rules seem more apt for someone who will be there longer than just for orientation (which lasts about 5 business days), as well as for men (hair must be cut above the collar with no braids or pony tails... I can't imagine they are referring to women's hair). There will be "lights out," specific hygiene products we can use, a locker for all our stuff, and things we are permitted to wear. Good thing, I will be allowed to wear my own clothing, so Sporty and T.S. will bring me a bag of items. Just wearing my own clothes will help me feel more human again.
After my time in prison, I think I'll be able to handle the uncertainties of halfway house well. Red says that I'm stressing over the "little things." I am trying my best not to. I am going home. I will see my family and start my future. I will catch up on the lives of so many wonderful people in my world. A halfway house may not be pure freedom, but it is a step towards it and I will take it in stride. The rules/regs did not talk about access to the internet, so I am curious if I will be able to write. No matter, I will journal and update when I can.
My friends are planning me a "goodbye" party. I asked them not to. It seems wrong to celebrate my leaving when so many people I care about are left behind - here. My celebration will be when all of us are out. But, they insist - cheesecake and all. I thought I'd talked them into a fruit salad instead... I mean I am working out every day, but failed and they are still going full out with the fats. I will be grateful. I am grateful. People sent me off with a small party before I self-surrendered, now I get one before I leave. The love and gratitude I feel for the people in my life is so inspiring. Everyday I learn how to be a better person because of the amazing people around me. Throughout this experience, before, during, and soon to be after, I am humbled by the love, kindness, sincerity, and support of others.
My last days here are still yet to come, but I know they will be fine. Whether I am sleeping, working out, writing, reading, crocheting, laughing, playing cards, talking, waiting in a line, eating, showering, standing count, or walking outside, I know I am fine. I am really okay. This experience will never define me. So, I suppose I will not be walking home. For all the people who love and support me lift me up each and every day. I know I will get home. I know I will survive any more road blocks. Everything is possible. I won't give up my hope.
Okay, seriously, I am surprised that I have not been "called" down for my travel planning, yet. I've talked to the people who make those arrangements three times in as many days, but there's "nothing" they can do until they hear back from medical about whether they need to fly me or if I can be bused. No matter what arguments I put before them, it is my doctor, the one I've never met, who decides what method(s) of transportation are right for me. The fact that I need to have an injection on Tuesday (since Monday is a federal holiday) is something I am unable to even present, but will, if/when they finally call me in. I know one thing for sure, the woman who makes the travel plans is not here Friday, Saturday, Sunday or Monday... so tomorrow and Tuesday are the only days my arrangements can be made. Otherwise, I'm serious about walking if I have to. I am leaving a week from today.
I received a packet of information from my halfway house last night. They must have overnighted it to my case manager, as it is original documents and was just mailed. It consists of the rules and regulations and a form for my signature that I agree to abide by them. I read them in full last night and there's nothing unexpected. I'm allowed a cell phone, but have to keep it locked in a locker at the entrance except when I'm leaving the facility. I will have a curfew. I will have assigned chores. I will be responsible for my own transportation. Many of the rules seem more apt for someone who will be there longer than just for orientation (which lasts about 5 business days), as well as for men (hair must be cut above the collar with no braids or pony tails... I can't imagine they are referring to women's hair). There will be "lights out," specific hygiene products we can use, a locker for all our stuff, and things we are permitted to wear. Good thing, I will be allowed to wear my own clothing, so Sporty and T.S. will bring me a bag of items. Just wearing my own clothes will help me feel more human again.
After my time in prison, I think I'll be able to handle the uncertainties of halfway house well. Red says that I'm stressing over the "little things." I am trying my best not to. I am going home. I will see my family and start my future. I will catch up on the lives of so many wonderful people in my world. A halfway house may not be pure freedom, but it is a step towards it and I will take it in stride. The rules/regs did not talk about access to the internet, so I am curious if I will be able to write. No matter, I will journal and update when I can.
My friends are planning me a "goodbye" party. I asked them not to. It seems wrong to celebrate my leaving when so many people I care about are left behind - here. My celebration will be when all of us are out. But, they insist - cheesecake and all. I thought I'd talked them into a fruit salad instead... I mean I am working out every day, but failed and they are still going full out with the fats. I will be grateful. I am grateful. People sent me off with a small party before I self-surrendered, now I get one before I leave. The love and gratitude I feel for the people in my life is so inspiring. Everyday I learn how to be a better person because of the amazing people around me. Throughout this experience, before, during, and soon to be after, I am humbled by the love, kindness, sincerity, and support of others.
My last days here are still yet to come, but I know they will be fine. Whether I am sleeping, working out, writing, reading, crocheting, laughing, playing cards, talking, waiting in a line, eating, showering, standing count, or walking outside, I know I am fine. I am really okay. This experience will never define me. So, I suppose I will not be walking home. For all the people who love and support me lift me up each and every day. I know I will get home. I know I will survive any more road blocks. Everything is possible. I won't give up my hope.
From Dragonfly: I'm Going Home!!!
I keep singing in my head, "I'm going home, I'm going home, tell the world I'm coming home..." It's a catchy toon that I can't quite stop - except for when the song, "I will always love you," is stuck in there... "If I could stay, I would only be in the way, so I'll go, but I'll know, I'll think of you every step of the way...." Not sure why Whitney Houston's song is stuck in my head at times, but it is there annoying me. So, I think I prefer my little "I'm going home, I'm going home, tell the world, I'm coming home," to the other, but I dare not sing either out loud... for fear that I will scare folks with my voice (and also because no one needs to add any amount of noise to this already loud place.)
Anyway, the jingle got stuck in my head a couple weeks ago... when I started to actually feel that I may be leaving here. Well, it's official. My electronic file was updated yesterday afternoon with my new date. I am getting my home confinement - and it starts May 28th. As you know, had I not been pushing, prodding, begging, etc., this would not be happening. Remember to be your own advocate and make sure your paperwork is getting done and is followed up on.
I do not have travel plans yet. Although, it occurred to me that since I am not allowed to give myself my own injection, and since the 26th is a holiday, I will need an injection on the 27th. If that is the case, then I will need to be flown home so that I can be here for my injection on the 27th and still to the halfway house on the 28th. Issue resolved. Of course, that is logic. The cost of a flight is only dollars more than the cost of a bus ticket. So, I pray they do say that I have to be flown home. A couple hour flight, with one change-over, is so much better than 30 hours or so in a bus! I'm not sure I could do enough stretching to not come off the bus looking like I am still seated (my body frozen in that pose...). :-)
Freckles also moved her case forward yesterday, and signed her release papers. It's been over a month since she was first called to do so. Finally, yesterday, they were ready to do it. She will get out of here for her halfway house on time - in July - right after her RDAP graduation. For a nearly 3 year sentence, with RDAP, she will only serve less than 11 months. I'm so very happy for her. She, too, needs to be able to move forward with her life, with her supportive husband, and enjoy her life. She is such a good person. She is one person I know I was meant to meet! We figure that we wouldn't have ended up at the same prison no matter what, because it was meant to be.
Sporty has been working overtime on my behalf to try to figure out what we can about my stay at the halfway house. It will be up to a week, but I hope much shorter. I will need clothing dropped off for me there - the list is very explicit on what is and is not allowed. I can have my cell phone - but can only use it off property (when I have appointments). They aren't happy that I have a doctor's appointment so soon after my arrival, but Sporty explained that the BOP required it for my injection. They will require me to leave no earlier than a certain time, have a note from the doctor showing the time the appointment ended, and be back within a specific amount of time from there. No stops. I'm still in custody, technically, and I certainly do not want to have to come back to prison! Breaking my home confinement/halfway house rules would result in, "I'm going back, I'm going back, I screwed up and I'm going back..." it's not as catchy a jingle and DEFINITELY one I don't want to EVER sing in my head. I will do whatever I'm told I must, because once I am on the other side of the barbed wire fences, I never want to walk back in. Ever.
Anyway, the jingle got stuck in my head a couple weeks ago... when I started to actually feel that I may be leaving here. Well, it's official. My electronic file was updated yesterday afternoon with my new date. I am getting my home confinement - and it starts May 28th. As you know, had I not been pushing, prodding, begging, etc., this would not be happening. Remember to be your own advocate and make sure your paperwork is getting done and is followed up on.
I do not have travel plans yet. Although, it occurred to me that since I am not allowed to give myself my own injection, and since the 26th is a holiday, I will need an injection on the 27th. If that is the case, then I will need to be flown home so that I can be here for my injection on the 27th and still to the halfway house on the 28th. Issue resolved. Of course, that is logic. The cost of a flight is only dollars more than the cost of a bus ticket. So, I pray they do say that I have to be flown home. A couple hour flight, with one change-over, is so much better than 30 hours or so in a bus! I'm not sure I could do enough stretching to not come off the bus looking like I am still seated (my body frozen in that pose...). :-)
Freckles also moved her case forward yesterday, and signed her release papers. It's been over a month since she was first called to do so. Finally, yesterday, they were ready to do it. She will get out of here for her halfway house on time - in July - right after her RDAP graduation. For a nearly 3 year sentence, with RDAP, she will only serve less than 11 months. I'm so very happy for her. She, too, needs to be able to move forward with her life, with her supportive husband, and enjoy her life. She is such a good person. She is one person I know I was meant to meet! We figure that we wouldn't have ended up at the same prison no matter what, because it was meant to be.
Sporty has been working overtime on my behalf to try to figure out what we can about my stay at the halfway house. It will be up to a week, but I hope much shorter. I will need clothing dropped off for me there - the list is very explicit on what is and is not allowed. I can have my cell phone - but can only use it off property (when I have appointments). They aren't happy that I have a doctor's appointment so soon after my arrival, but Sporty explained that the BOP required it for my injection. They will require me to leave no earlier than a certain time, have a note from the doctor showing the time the appointment ended, and be back within a specific amount of time from there. No stops. I'm still in custody, technically, and I certainly do not want to have to come back to prison! Breaking my home confinement/halfway house rules would result in, "I'm going back, I'm going back, I screwed up and I'm going back..." it's not as catchy a jingle and DEFINITELY one I don't want to EVER sing in my head. I will do whatever I'm told I must, because once I am on the other side of the barbed wire fences, I never want to walk back in. Ever.
From Dragonfly: Pics
This weekend, I dressed in pants, a t-shirt, and did my hair. Friends dressed in their pants, some in their nicely ironed ones, did their makeup, hair, and even put glitter on their faces. We went to take pictures. I had to bring an envelope, addressed to Sporty, with two stamps on it, so when the pictures come in, they can be mailed home to me. I'll be taking more pictures with folks next weekend. This weekend, I captured Taz, Nurse, Bunkie, Mexico, Freckles, Harpo, Red, Mama, Hershey, and more. Next weekend, I will add Glitter, more with Freckles, Cali, and others.
While in the real world, I take most my pictures with the eye for sharing with the world - instagram, facebook, email, etc. Here, I am taking pictures to hold on to for myself. I do not know if I'll ever see any of these women again in my life. However, I have written about them. I have spent time with them. I do not want to forget them. I do not want to try to remember who my Bunkie was or the name of the person I had breakfast with nearly every day of my stay (not that I could ever forget Freckles!!). These pictures won't be tagged, but they will be copied. Everyone in the picture will receive a copy of it. A copy costs pennies, a picture ticket costs $1 each.
I've already gotten pictures with South, Lola, Danbury, Taz, and some others. I cherish them. I, also, have photos with my visitors - Joy, Mom, Stepdad, Sporty, T.S., SIL, etc. Those are the only pictures where I am touching someone. We cannot touch each other in our inmate photos, not even back to back. So, in those photos, we get close, and lean in, or make funny faces. Harpo, Freckles, and I wanted to do a photo in the "Namaste" pose (in honor of our new fondness of yoga), but you are not allowed to do anything with your hands, other than a normal pose.
Some people want to walk out of prison and never look back - forget it all and move forward. I'm not one of them. I do not want to live in the past or have regrets, but prison is one of those life-changing experiences and I do not ever want to forget the extreme consequences of my addiction. I, also, do not want to forget the generosity and love I received in prison or from the people supporting me from the outside. Prison is not my worst experience, desperation was. I guess I was prepared mentally for prison way more than I knew. It has not been easy. No day has been easy. I have survived. I have almost thrived. The people in my life here, and out there, as well as my higher power and program of recovery, grounded me and helped me keep perspective (even if I lost it at times, I always came back).
I had my last visitor this weekend. SIL visited. I hadn't seen her since January, so we had lots to catch up on. I know that I was meant to be at Carswell, for the fact that I have an incredible family member so close. Of all my siblings/step-siblings, SIL and I connect the best. We can talk for hours and never run out of things to say. We can cry and laugh. I guess I never knew what having a sister could really be like. Prison gave me one - she may be my step-brother's wife, but forever she will be my sister. I will cherish the pictures I have of her and I together at visitation as much as any other photo I have here.
I hope to let go of the negative of this place, and hold on to the positive memories. My pictures will assist me in that process. So, I will smile for the camera, and keep my hands to myself, and forever look at the people in the pictures, and not me - for I know the reason I'm taking the pictures is about my love for them.
While in the real world, I take most my pictures with the eye for sharing with the world - instagram, facebook, email, etc. Here, I am taking pictures to hold on to for myself. I do not know if I'll ever see any of these women again in my life. However, I have written about them. I have spent time with them. I do not want to forget them. I do not want to try to remember who my Bunkie was or the name of the person I had breakfast with nearly every day of my stay (not that I could ever forget Freckles!!). These pictures won't be tagged, but they will be copied. Everyone in the picture will receive a copy of it. A copy costs pennies, a picture ticket costs $1 each.
I've already gotten pictures with South, Lola, Danbury, Taz, and some others. I cherish them. I, also, have photos with my visitors - Joy, Mom, Stepdad, Sporty, T.S., SIL, etc. Those are the only pictures where I am touching someone. We cannot touch each other in our inmate photos, not even back to back. So, in those photos, we get close, and lean in, or make funny faces. Harpo, Freckles, and I wanted to do a photo in the "Namaste" pose (in honor of our new fondness of yoga), but you are not allowed to do anything with your hands, other than a normal pose.
Some people want to walk out of prison and never look back - forget it all and move forward. I'm not one of them. I do not want to live in the past or have regrets, but prison is one of those life-changing experiences and I do not ever want to forget the extreme consequences of my addiction. I, also, do not want to forget the generosity and love I received in prison or from the people supporting me from the outside. Prison is not my worst experience, desperation was. I guess I was prepared mentally for prison way more than I knew. It has not been easy. No day has been easy. I have survived. I have almost thrived. The people in my life here, and out there, as well as my higher power and program of recovery, grounded me and helped me keep perspective (even if I lost it at times, I always came back).
I had my last visitor this weekend. SIL visited. I hadn't seen her since January, so we had lots to catch up on. I know that I was meant to be at Carswell, for the fact that I have an incredible family member so close. Of all my siblings/step-siblings, SIL and I connect the best. We can talk for hours and never run out of things to say. We can cry and laugh. I guess I never knew what having a sister could really be like. Prison gave me one - she may be my step-brother's wife, but forever she will be my sister. I will cherish the pictures I have of her and I together at visitation as much as any other photo I have here.
I hope to let go of the negative of this place, and hold on to the positive memories. My pictures will assist me in that process. So, I will smile for the camera, and keep my hands to myself, and forever look at the people in the pictures, and not me - for I know the reason I'm taking the pictures is about my love for them.
From Dragonfly: Uncertainties
As I've said before, there are never any certainties when it comes to prison. Get the idea of control out of your head. Things change last minute. You need to be able to adjust and accept. As always, acceptance is key.
So, this is actually a very positive writing... from the looks of things, I am coming home!!!! Sporty has made some calls, and a halfway house about 2 hours from where I live has me coming in on May 28th. That means I am either busing away from Texas on the 27th or flying out on the 28th. Hopefully, tomorrow I will have the answer to that.
How long I will stay at the halfway house is unknown. I will need clothes, so somehow that will need to be dropped off to me. They have rules, just like prison - wake-up times, sleep times, lights out, etc. I'll likely have chores and meetings and other things I'll have to do. It'll be a new experience, and at the same time, likely much more like being in prison than being home. But, I will wear my own clothes. I will be allowed to leave for appointments, job interviews (although I'll be 2 hours away from where I would need to be working). I will be allowed my cell phone (can't use INSIDE the halfway house, but can use outside). If I were actually eligible for halfway house, I'd be spending a lot longer there. My only anxiety of this is the unknowns. It's manageable. I need to release control.
Tomorrow morning, I will be at the office of the woman who does my travel plans. Hopefully, we can get through all the paperwork here quickly. Sometime this week, I will meet my doctor for the first time. It's been about 7 months since I've seen any doctor here, and more than 6 since my new doctor was assigned. For being chronic care, and her making decisions about what I'm "eligible" for upon release in terms of community programs, it really bugs me that she's never met me and just makes a decision based on notes in a medical file. However, I figure that if she denied me camp and halfway house time, then they should fly me home. We will see.
So, there are still many uncertainties. Anything can happen between now and May 28th. But, I'm noticing my favorite emotion building - HOPE - and also quite a bit of EXCITEMENT!!!
So, this is actually a very positive writing... from the looks of things, I am coming home!!!! Sporty has made some calls, and a halfway house about 2 hours from where I live has me coming in on May 28th. That means I am either busing away from Texas on the 27th or flying out on the 28th. Hopefully, tomorrow I will have the answer to that.
How long I will stay at the halfway house is unknown. I will need clothes, so somehow that will need to be dropped off to me. They have rules, just like prison - wake-up times, sleep times, lights out, etc. I'll likely have chores and meetings and other things I'll have to do. It'll be a new experience, and at the same time, likely much more like being in prison than being home. But, I will wear my own clothes. I will be allowed to leave for appointments, job interviews (although I'll be 2 hours away from where I would need to be working). I will be allowed my cell phone (can't use INSIDE the halfway house, but can use outside). If I were actually eligible for halfway house, I'd be spending a lot longer there. My only anxiety of this is the unknowns. It's manageable. I need to release control.
Tomorrow morning, I will be at the office of the woman who does my travel plans. Hopefully, we can get through all the paperwork here quickly. Sometime this week, I will meet my doctor for the first time. It's been about 7 months since I've seen any doctor here, and more than 6 since my new doctor was assigned. For being chronic care, and her making decisions about what I'm "eligible" for upon release in terms of community programs, it really bugs me that she's never met me and just makes a decision based on notes in a medical file. However, I figure that if she denied me camp and halfway house time, then they should fly me home. We will see.
So, there are still many uncertainties. Anything can happen between now and May 28th. But, I'm noticing my favorite emotion building - HOPE - and also quite a bit of EXCITEMENT!!!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
From Dragonfly: Letters and Cards
The other day I wrote about purging things out of my locker. Well, I threw away a small pile of papers and everything else made it's way back in my locker - albeit, a little more organized. Yes, things still fell out when I open the doors... (that darn season salt ended up spilling everywhere!!). So, Red decided I needed to release "control" of my locker to her - so she can really "purge." She and my roommates were in agreement on this and she also kept saying that I "don't really believe I'm leaving in just 11 days." Maybe she's right about that comment. How can I believe, when the computers don't yet show it? When my travel arrangements haven't been made? Most people know 2 months out when they are going home, I'll officially know possibly 1 week out. No matter, though, Red is preparing me for walking out the door within the next two weeks.
So, I wasn't allowed to sit in front of my locker. She took total control. She looked at everything and said, "do you need this? No!," and threw it away. I'd been holding on to EVERY letter and card I've received since arriving. I know it's against the rules - we are only supposed to have something like 25 letters/cards in our locker, but I couldn't throw them away. So many people put me in their thoughts and communicated with me, and I wanted to hold on to their love and thoughts. I imagined looking at pinterist when I get home and finding a way to make something out of all the cards. It would take up more than a wall, though, because I have had a lot of very generous friends and supporters! Maybe, I was being a little unrealistic.
It took a lot of thought and acceptance, but all my non-official letters were purged yesterday. I had so many wonderful letters from friends, but I couldn't keep them. I wouldn't even be allowed to carry them/mail them home. There were just too many. As for my cards, I kept enough that I could still make something (without it taking up an entire wall), and those that were especially special (not that any weren't), and I recycled the rest. What it means to recycle your cards, here, is that people use them to send out cards to loved ones on the outside. A birthday card coming in, will be a new birthday card going out. Old messages are cut out or covered up. Pieces of the card may be cut out and pasted onto card stock. The cards made here are beautiful!! No card is trash, it is someone's treasure. I tried to tell Red and my roomies that no one will want my Jewish Holiday cards, but I was wrong, as my roommie really liked a L'Shanah Tovah card I received, even though she is not Jewish. She liked what it said and will send it to her husband. Well, okay, maybe even my Jewish cards will find a way to be recycled for someone's use. As for people's messages to me, if they wrote me a long note in the card, I kept the card. I don't need everyone knowing every piece of my or my friends' business (well, maybe mine, as I put it out there through my writing every day!), but my friends have a right to privacy!
It's hard letting go of things that mean something to me. Every single letter and card I've received has been important to me. I have read some of them several times. They have lifted me up on bad days, brought tears to my eyes as I hear of struggles, made me laugh, added joy, and been a very important part of my imprisonment. I pray no one will be offended that I could not keep holding on to the "things," as Red put it to me, "you know in your head that you are loved and supported, you don't need these to remind you of that." She is right. Never a moment during my time here have I felt alone. Never have I felt unloved. Never have I felt desperate. Never have I felt the way I did all those years of my addiction.
So, I let go of things, and now I will concentrate on the memories, the stories, and the people. Speaking of which, I am having a visit from SIL today. I haven't seen her since January, and I look forward to the visit. I am also getting pictures taken today and tomorrow with several of my "prison friends," so that I have them when I am home. Pictures and memories I am allowed to keep - they will never be purged!
So, I wasn't allowed to sit in front of my locker. She took total control. She looked at everything and said, "do you need this? No!," and threw it away. I'd been holding on to EVERY letter and card I've received since arriving. I know it's against the rules - we are only supposed to have something like 25 letters/cards in our locker, but I couldn't throw them away. So many people put me in their thoughts and communicated with me, and I wanted to hold on to their love and thoughts. I imagined looking at pinterist when I get home and finding a way to make something out of all the cards. It would take up more than a wall, though, because I have had a lot of very generous friends and supporters! Maybe, I was being a little unrealistic.
It took a lot of thought and acceptance, but all my non-official letters were purged yesterday. I had so many wonderful letters from friends, but I couldn't keep them. I wouldn't even be allowed to carry them/mail them home. There were just too many. As for my cards, I kept enough that I could still make something (without it taking up an entire wall), and those that were especially special (not that any weren't), and I recycled the rest. What it means to recycle your cards, here, is that people use them to send out cards to loved ones on the outside. A birthday card coming in, will be a new birthday card going out. Old messages are cut out or covered up. Pieces of the card may be cut out and pasted onto card stock. The cards made here are beautiful!! No card is trash, it is someone's treasure. I tried to tell Red and my roomies that no one will want my Jewish Holiday cards, but I was wrong, as my roommie really liked a L'Shanah Tovah card I received, even though she is not Jewish. She liked what it said and will send it to her husband. Well, okay, maybe even my Jewish cards will find a way to be recycled for someone's use. As for people's messages to me, if they wrote me a long note in the card, I kept the card. I don't need everyone knowing every piece of my or my friends' business (well, maybe mine, as I put it out there through my writing every day!), but my friends have a right to privacy!
It's hard letting go of things that mean something to me. Every single letter and card I've received has been important to me. I have read some of them several times. They have lifted me up on bad days, brought tears to my eyes as I hear of struggles, made me laugh, added joy, and been a very important part of my imprisonment. I pray no one will be offended that I could not keep holding on to the "things," as Red put it to me, "you know in your head that you are loved and supported, you don't need these to remind you of that." She is right. Never a moment during my time here have I felt alone. Never have I felt unloved. Never have I felt desperate. Never have I felt the way I did all those years of my addiction.
So, I let go of things, and now I will concentrate on the memories, the stories, and the people. Speaking of which, I am having a visit from SIL today. I haven't seen her since January, and I look forward to the visit. I am also getting pictures taken today and tomorrow with several of my "prison friends," so that I have them when I am home. Pictures and memories I am allowed to keep - they will never be purged!