Back to the halfway house?

In class tonight, we discussed a newly published book entitled, "A Halfway House for Women." It was an ethnographic study of a state run halfway house in the northeast and I must say, barely anything about it was like the halfway house experience I had. Then again, from what I've heard, most people's halfway house experiences are nothing like the halfway house experience I had. As I wrote about at the time, I was in a state-run program that was an alternative to jail for most of the people there - they had to do daily programming and most were there for drug/alcohol related offenses. Only four or five of us were there for federal crimes during the short stay I had.

Unlike where I was, there are halfway houses that are entirely federal. Most of those are either all male, or mixed gender. There are very few that are for women only. The mixed gender ones often keep the men and women entirely separate, but some only have a handful of women and mostly serve men. Gender responsive programming is nonexistent in those places. There are also halfway houses that are all female. Some are really small and are like real "houses" and are less transient and women live there for longer periods of time. One women I know lived in a halfway house for 1 1/2 years. Some are very institutional and have 120 beds that look just like they never left prison, except they are wearing their own clothes and once in a while they get to leave.

An interesting conversation tonight was around "smoking." Smoke breaks - specifically in some state run facilities - are quite interesting. Like the place I went to, the book we read, had women going on smoke breaks getting to go outside, where the few women who did not smoke did not get to venture outside at all. The ability to get fresh air, even if it was filled with second hand smoke, is a privilege afforded to only those who have a very unhealthy habit (no offense to my readers who smoke). There should be opportunities for non-smokers to enjoy fresh air without smoke. In fact, there should be more opportunities to be outside without smoking than with smoking. Shouldn't healthy actions be rewarded? Ah, but if the action is not funded by some government or other agency, the halfway house has no reason to consider the rule.

I sometimes hate that I've become so cynical in the last year and a half. I was trying to think of the themes that may run through this blog and so many of them are about how broken the system is. I mean we all know, I guess, that bureaucracy is always going to be troubled, but from the day I entered Carswell to the day I left, my experiences were riddled with cumbersome hurdles that simply made no sense, sights and sounds that no one should ever witness, norms and mores that are quite the opposite of normal, and a true breakdown of my own character. It wasn't until tonight that I was thinking about my second day at Carswell when I proclaimed to my overbearing bunkie, "I am here for my own time, not anybody elses." I was so proud of myself for speaking up for myself. I was so amazed at the voice I found inside myself - that I wasn't passive and that I had not backed down when I was in fact scared.

What I discovered today, looking back, though, is that the system totally broke me, though. Through my many months at FMC Carswell, I did so many things I never thought I would ever do! Things I couldn't even write about on here - because I knew and I was told straight out - that many CO's and some of the Education Staff were reading this blog. I had to be careful what I wrote, yet write the truth at the same time. I couldn't write that I was in fact making bracelets and anklets and selling them on the black market. I couldn't write about the day we saw Lola at the camp and Freckles and I waved like crazy to her hundreds of feet away as she waved like crazy back ---- praying that no one would catch us. I never wrote about who was buying commissary for who or who I ever bought commissary for or why. I didn't write about who was doing my ironing and how I could never do my ironing because there were four irons for 300 women and if you didn't pay someone to do your ironing you didn't get your stuff ironed - even though such things were technically against the rules. I didn't write about the few times I helped out someone with something legal, even though I really did it on the down low --- as down low as I could and how guilty I felt when I couldn't help others. The reality of the SHU and the threats of officers always hanging over me. This blog kept me a known inmate. I had to be careful - especially after the threats in January. I couldn't write the details of those threats and how I called home in tears and scared everyone back at home and told them to take down this blog because I was afraid of what was going to happen to me because I was hearing it from staff and inmates - even people I had never met. It was my birthday weekend. I couldn't write about things that were happening in my rooms - things my roommates were doing. I couldn't write about all the illegal activities I was witnessing. I saw more drug activity than I have ever seen in my lifetime - dealing, snorting, swallowing, begging, hiding, etc. I witnessed many bottles of hooch being made and I have to admit - I took a tiny sip of one once (horrible curiosity) and it was THE most disgusting thing I've ever sipped in my life!!! It tasted like alcohol pads! The makers of such hooch drank the entire cooler of it down in under an hour. I never tried any drugs that were not prescribed to me. I witnessed people stealing from people, from guards, from officers, from education, from medical, from everywhere. I saw more sex in more outrageous places than you could imagine. People get really creative! I never had sex in prison. I saw more officers turn a blind eye to illegal activity, non-illegal but against the rules activity, and the like than when they'd actually stop such activity. It depended on who, what, and where - it also depended on whether there was a security camera, and if another officer was a witness. I watched people intentionally put themselves in the SHU to be locked up with their with girlfriends. I watched people intentionally get other people in trouble and send them off to the SHU.

There was so much WRONG that I could not write about - because if I did, I could get people in trouble and then I'd be a snitch and a snitch gets in the MOST trouble - not just from other inmates - but CO's HATE snitches. CO's do not want someone making them busy - they are busy enough as it is. If you put a note under the door of a CO's office telling them about some illegal activity, chances are, it will go into the garbage. It may be read, or not, but you will never know. They keep a log - a detailed log - of all the goings ons in the unit - I'm sure their gossip of all of us is quite good. I wonder if this blog was logged at times or bookmarked on their computer, who knows. What I do know, is that I wrote the truth in my blog, but I was not able to write the whole truth. I'm sorry for that. Protection of self and others won out. At the same time, everything you do read is the truth and my feelings were certainly the truth. Sometimes I would write entire paragraphs and then have to delete them because I'd realize that I may be "revealing" too much about something or someone. It sucks to have to monitor one's own blog - one's own experiences.

I hope this blog has been helpful anyway, because what has always made it to the posts of this blog are the realities of the friendships, the communities, the resources, and the lives that made being at Carswell bearable from day to day. So many people are still there and I think about them every day. If I did not have the fear of a violation of my supervision, I would be writing a person every day, yet that fear still exists over my head. I do not want to go back. I do no good for anyone if I am back in prison. I am not allowed to have contact with anyone there. I tried at first, I must admit, but it got messy and it just wasn't something that could be sustained and I don't live in secrets and lies. So, I must follow these rules. They suck and I love my friends, but I do more good for them trying to make a difference and staying out of prison - at least I hope I do. I just pray they know that I have not forgotten them. I promised them I'd write - I did initially - but not for a long time now. It sucks. They probably think I don't care or I've forgotten them. I haven't I think about them everyday --- Lola, Chi, Taz, Nurse, Cali, Glitter, Longwinded, and so many others.... and then there were the ones that are out that I am not allowed to communicate with - Red, My Bunky, South, Danbury, etc. How are they doing? Are they making it okay? I just hate these rules!!

I was not the best follower of rules in prison, although I think I followed the rules more than almost anyone else I knew there. There's just no way to really survive prison without finding ways to show some resistance. I was kidding myself that second day there - I needed to be there for others because I needed them to be there for me! However, being on Supervision is a whole new game. I cannot show resistance. I am not living under the same rules. It's just me and my P.O. now and I don't have a community of norms that build ways to resist all the rules. The rules protect me from going back to prison and I don't want to be back there again.

The cycle of prison to halfway house to home confinement will end here. It's better now to just be reading about the experiences of others and able to compare such experiences to my own and others I know. As for the book I read for class tonight, I honestly do not recommend it. It will scare you more than needed for the halfway house experience. It is even scarier than the one I went to. For most women, their halfway house experience is boring, filled with unnecessary programming, and just more bureaucracy until they can go home. Best thing to do is to find a job, find a place to live if you don't have one yet, and move through the levels of programming at the halfway house quickly. Do what they tell you to do so that soon, you can start doing what you want to do --- hopefully in a healthier/smarter way than before you first got locked up.

Cleaning House

I still need to organize my room. I still have boxes of I don't know what packed in storage. I still have the stuff I shipped home from Carswell in the box. Three weeks home and I've done almost nothing on making my space feel like home. Maybe I'm stuck in a rut.

Best way to get out of a rut?? Make a goal, a reasonable one, and stick with it. For me, that means putting each step into my calendar for the day I am to do it. By the end of July 4th weekend, I will have my room set up how I want it, my things put in their respective places, and all necessary things unpacked (some boxes are just going to stay in storage for a while... three people living in a not-so-big townhouse). This gives me a week to accomplish these tasks. Maybe all I need is to know I'm off home confinement to really get moving.

Today, we have a house cleaner doing some deep cleaning. That will be good motivation for me to get my stuff organized. In fact, I already started, as I needed to clean up for the cleaning lady (isn't that an oxymoron?). I believe a house cleaner should spend their time doing deep cleaning, not moving piles of stuff around to be able to dust.

So, I look forward to accomplishing my home goals. I have a lot to look forward to when I'm off home confinement, I certainly don't want to come home to an unorganized mess. Maybe I should stop this blog post and unpack that box over there...

Writing My Personal Statement

I was never a procrastinator. I always tried to be on top of all my work, giving me buffer time just in case. Since being on home confinement, though, I find myself staring at things to be done and feeling overwhelmed at the task. It's getting better, though, as I accomplished many things this past weekend.

One item on my "to-do" list has been my Personal Statement for readmission to my school - albeit a different education department. I met with a professor last week and she asked me to send my statement to her, but I kept stumbling over what to say, how much information on my past and imprisonment needed to be included, and emphasizing why this new department is such a good fit for me, when I was excelling in my old department. No doctoral program wants a student that does not really want their program. I was already working with them, I just need to be able to explain so much in a concise and well written statement.

Normally, addiction recovery and incarceration are not items I would encourage anyone to emphasize in their applications to graduate schools. However, given as my admission was revoked, I need to explain my situation and provide enough details that the faculty can understand. It is fairly unique.

I wanted to send off my information to the department by last Friday, but I just couldn't quite get my head around how to write the letter. This is not an uncommon experience, as I often ponder on what I will write before tackling a new writing project. This allows my thoughts to be more honed and the writing process to go easier.

It is also not uncommon for me to find myself awake in the middle of the night, having much of what I want to write written in my head. Such was true last night, where at 3am, I started typing my personal statement on my phone (yes, paper and a pen would have been a better option, but that would have entailed turning on a light, finding paper and a writing utensil, and disturbing Superdog who was asleep on my floor). 

So, I finger typed and finger typed a full statement. I did not make the mistake of immediately sending it off. It desperately needs editing and rearranging. However, it is all there on paper (well, the smartphone screen). The details of my past and incarceration, and yet it focuses on hope and goals and my love of education. I do not know what will happen as I continue my quest to be readmitted to the university and the college of education, but I do know that it's far better to face this all head on, regardless of the outcome.

Once the letter was completed, I sent it off for comments from Survivor and Sporty and I attempted sleep. Ring, ring... 5am and the RRC was checking to make sure I was home. They have the weirdest timing! Where would I be at 5am? Well, I suppose I was out at 5am plenty during my gambling binges...

Anyway, I was able to sneak in about two hours of sleep last night, before having to wake and drive the 3 hour morning trip to/from my RRC. It literally took 4 minutes today to have my breath analyzed (still no alcohol) and fill out the form. No meeting with my CW today. Such a waste of gas.

Tonight, I will finish editing my personal statement and email it off to the professor with a copy of my CV (curriculum vitae). I'll apologize that it took me a couple days to complete her request, and thank her for meeting with me and considering my request for admission. Then, I'll go and get a good night's sleep, as I know she's sending off the materials to other faculty in her department. I need to give them the procrastination time they need to consider my application. I can only hope one of them finds themselves awake in the middle of the night, thinking about how I would make a valuable addition to their  academic department.

Tweeting

I've been in love with technology since I was a kid. My father built our first computer and I would teach everyone how to use it. Things were so simple back then... Excitement was watching a curser (called a turtle) draw lines and make cool objects on a program called "Logo." I'm aging myself here!

I've done my best to stay up to date on technology and software. However, the social media craze came on super fast and I missed the MySpace bandwagon. I joined Facebook later than many of my peers (although I've more than made up for it in updates and photos).  I now have Instagram, YouTube, LinkedIn and blogger as well. However, I never quite understood the Twitter craze and why tweeting was such a wonderful way to connect.

I was wrong. I started a @DFHazel twitter account yesterday, and in just one day, I've connected with numerous people from both the recovery and prison reform worlds. This blog has been visited by new people, and I've found great blogs by others. I'm already making possible friendly and/or professional connections. I get it now...

I've said from the beginning that my story is neither special nor unique. It's great to connect with others whose stories are similar and different from my own. Social media offers us a way to make new networks for collaboration, sharing, connecting, and fun.

I'm planning on making twitter a new daily connection for myself to the world. Feel free to follow me at @DFHazel - I may choose to follow you back as well. There's so much to learn about people.

My next feat will be to build a DFHazel website. It'll be a place to share resources I developed while away, relevant news, and other valuable information... Stay tuned for that to happen in the near future!

First Conversation with my P.O.

I am not yet under the supervision of my probation officer, since the RRC is in charge of my supervision. I've never met him either, since I had no supervision prior to my self-surrender, so I decided to give him a call yesterday. I'm curious about what supervision will be like and how much freedom I'll actually have. Obviously, not freedom to do anything bad, but will I still have a curfew? Can I plan to do a special weekend away with my close friends? Etc.

My P.O. seemed like a nice guy when I talked to him on the phone. He knew exactly who I was with just my name - he's talked with Sporty a couple times since I'm living with her. He didn't want to answer any questions until my official out date - July 2nd. He was like, "wow, that's right around the corner, isn't it?" So, we made a time for me to meet him at his office that afternoon and he said he will give me all the details then. It's crazy that people only tell you what to expect when the day arrives... No ability to prepare oneself. Just another unknown in the future.

I tried to see if my 2x weekly check in could get transferred to him for the remaining time of my home confinement... His office is 15 minutes away, the RRC is 1 1/2 hours away. It isn't possible. So, after this morning, I have 3 more times of that ridiculous drive.

I did get him to answer one question in the positive, though. He says I'll be limited to the western side of my state for the first 60 days or so of my supervision, which will allow me to do my special annual weekend retreat with my close GA friends. Eleven of us will be doing the retreat this year and since I had to miss last year's, I'm super pumped for it. I started this retreat, but it has really become part of all of our lives. I do a lot of the organizing, still, and I've already planned some weekend activities! I can't wait to sit around a campfire and eat s'mores!!

Also, even though I'm restricted to the western side of my state, my P.O. gave me permission to attend a Queen (with Adam Lambert) concert next month on the eastern side of the state. I've been a Queen and Adam Lambert fan... the two together just sounds like an amazing concert! Glad my P.O. said yes. He sounds like a pretty reasonable guy!

I don't know what my life will be like once supervision starts (being on paper, as we call it in prison), but I know it should be more relaxed than my home confinement. It's just one more step closer to real freedom. I think it really depends on who your P.O. happens to be. As long as mine has a sense of humor, I think it'll be all right.

I'm Not Ashamed

After my three hour drive for a ten minute meeting at the RRC today, I met a professor/friend for lunch. It was a wonderful lunch meeting and very nice catching up. She knows my story and supports me. I told her the story of my admission being revoked. She knew a bit of it, but I told her it all. She's willing to be a reference for me as I work to get back in. I'm grateful.

The conversation did lead me to feel as if I'm defending myself. Could I still get a job as a professor? How will it be if I'm working along with people from my old program? Hard questions for me to answer, but I just smiled and said things like:

"I'm not afraid of haters, they are everywhere, I can work with anyone. Their  judgement is on themselves, not me..."

"I will get back into (my school) and I will walk across that graduation stage one day. To all the nay-sayers out there, I'm doing this for myself, for everyone who has made mistakes in their lives, and because what matters is who I am and what I do today, in recovery, not who I was and what I did in addiction..."

"I'm not concerned about where I will work, that's years away... Will I get a job? Yes. But for now, my concern is about taking it a day at a time and for right now, all I need to concern myself with is getting back in school..."

"I will not be ashamed of who I am, the experiences I've had, or the fact that I went to prison. The experiences made me more passionate to help others, more passionate to continue my education, and more passionate about the value of overcoming hardships. This is not my end, it's yet another beginning..."

People want to hear the horror stories of prison, and there are tons. I hadn't shared with you all, yet, the reality of learning that several staff members at Carswell were reading this blog and let me know. It kept me from sharing certain things, I always had to consider protecting myself. I'm home now, though, so I can share more openly and I will... However, even though I just experienced hell, it doesn't mean I want to dwell on the negative. I'm stronger now and that experience helps me know that I can overcome anything. I'm not happy about the experience, but I can focus on what I learned and the good people, rather than the horribleness and the bad people.

Being home has helped me immensely in getting past some of my walls of protection I built, but I have a feeling that some healthy walls may remain. These walls will allow negativity to bounce away from me, haters to have no impact on me, and shame to be nonexistent. We can only feel ashamed if we allow ourselves to do so. 

I have nothing to be ashamed about. I had an addiction. I committed a crime to feed my addiction and irrationally believed I wasn't doing anything wrong. I apologized openly in court to a packed courtroom. I put myself into recovery and surrendered fully to the program. I have not gambled in over six years. I've learned why I developed an addiction and have taken as many steps as possible to avoid a cross-addiction. I help others dealing with the same. I got myself into a top education PhD program. I worked hard over two years - earning fellowships and scholarships and passing my initial comprehensive exams. I went to prison with my head held up and I survived the experience. So, no, I am not ashamed. To be honest, I'm humbly proud of myself. I owe my success to so many people, and hope to pay forward as much as I am able. I will be an example of someone who can make something of themselves after prison, and by doing so, I know I will help others not give up on their goals/dreams either.

Anyway, lunch went well, although I hate that my time is limited. We would've kept talking. I have a feeling I'll be working with this professor friend of mine sometime again in the near future, and I know she carries no judgement of me. That's the way I hope I am when a future student comes to me with their hope for a second chance. There's no shame in asking for help and reaching out, the only shame is not reaching out and keeping it all inside.

Almost Normal

For two days, life was nearly normal (whatever normal means). I think this was one of the best times I've had with my parents visiting me. Perhaps nothing was different on their end, but everything rolls over me now. Maybe they were nicer than usual. I don't know. We had about 24 hours together and it was really nice.

When I was told that I'd get home confinement, I really didn't know what that would look like. I though it went through probation, but it goes through the RRC (residential reentry center) that I stayed at. Some people are tethered (electronically monitored), I am not. Some people have to pay fees for being on home confinement, I do not. Some people only have curfews and can use their days however they want, that's not me either. However, with advance notice, I can do many things, as long as it can be verified. I'm not allowed at a park or to take a walk outside, because no one can verify that. I can do a lot of things, though.

Yesterday, I went shopping with my parents and out for a good steak dinner. I had my verification sheets all prepared in advance and knew what times I needed to be home by, in order not to violate. We went to the store for shopping, I walked up to the manager, and I asked if she would sign the verification with my time of arrival. She refused. She called her supervisor and said, "I'm not putting my name down in this..." Well, I was in a quandary, I was already there and now I couldn't get my necessary verification. So, I called the RRC on what to do, my parents were pissed at the manager and restless, so I ignored them, and the person at my RRC said to just save the receipt. Problem solved. 

My parents helped me buy some workout equipment (mat, hand weights, resistance band, etc.) and some food. I'm so grateful! The money that would've bought me a plane ticket home from Carswell, is now helping me stay active and eat healthy. Thank you parents!!!

I got home literally at my end time on the dot... Careful to always leave enough time to get home... Just before I left home and when I got home, I called my RRC. They note every call, time, and location.

Today, my step-father made his famous pancakes for breakfast and then we went to see the film "Chef." I must admit, it was a great first film to see in ten months. It's about having passion for what you do, I know a little about that. Who wants to wake up every morning and hate going to their job??  To verify the movie, I just had to keep the ticket voucher.

Last, I had lunch with my folks. The people there had no problem filling out my verification form, neither did the people at the steak house last night. But now I know to be prepared for people to possibly refuse to sign. Thing is, while my parents got visibly upset that the manager at the store wouldn't sign, I didn't. I just needed to ensure I could take care of the problem by calling in. The manager was rude, but not half as rude as many of the CO's I had to deal with at Carswell. I'm so used to things not going as they are supposed to, that it doesn't even phase me. However, I won't choose to shop in that store again in the near future.

Tonight, Traveler stopped by and we did some more catching up. She is absolutely one of the best people walking this earth. What always amazes more is that she doesn't even realize it. I can learn a lot about being humble by spending time with her.

Being out so much over the last few days really felt good. I look forward to many more days of near freedom. My life may not be normal, but sometimes normal is overrated. I'm just glad to be here and I can handle any limitations. They certainly won't last forever. My normal after all this may be entirely different than my normal before my self-surrender. So, maybe I'll just stay "almost normal."

The 6am Call

For the last week, it never fails. Someone from the "bubble" calls me to make sure I'm home. I guess that makes sense, since my technical curfew is 9pm-6am, but since I had no permission to be out yesterday or this morning, they could've let me sleep in until at least 7.

Okay, I know that I woke in the 6am hour, if not earlier, in prison. I'm home now, though, in a nice comfy bed, with my window open and fresh air pouring in, and no where to go. I'd like to sleep in. But no, that phone rings next to my bed and I must answer it.

It's actually difficult to be married to my house phone. I carry it around, put it down, and then find myself upstairs when it's downstairs, or downstairs when it's upstairs. I can't do stairs fast, so I have sent T.S. on the phone chase more than once while it was ringing.

I'd forgotten how many spam calls one gets on a house phone as well. It took me only days home to add the number to the national do not call list. Calls still make it through now and then. No, I am not interested in your product. No, I cannot answer questions about cleaning products. No, I am not interested in a magazine subscription. No, we are not selling this home (it is a rental in a rental community). 

Every time the phone rings, I believe it's the RRC checking up on me. They keep a log of their calls here and my calls there, ensuring I am where I am supposed to be at any given time. This is why you must have a home phone without call forwarding in order to be on home confinement.

Luckily, there are digital options to have a home phone. Comcast gives us ours. Many newer homes don't even offer a plug for analog phones anymore. This place does, as it is a 70's townhouse. My old apartment did not. So, if the power goes out, I pray the RRC doesn't try calling here, as I will only have my cell phone and cell phones are not allowed for check-ins. Good thing I only have 3 more weeks - six more drives to the RRC - and then we can cancel the home phone if we want to.

I should try to be productive after the 6am phone call. With white noise the only sound I hear, though, it's just too comforting to stay in bed. Today, though, my parents are coming, so I best at least get up and try to clean a bit before their arrival. So I guess I should thank the RRC for being a very precise alarm clock every morning.

First Real Outing

In order to go anywhere, besides the RRC, this month, I have to let my CW know and have it approved. This morning, I did my 3-hour driving for 10 minutes with my CW in order for her to approve my schedule for the week. This includes: meeting with an assoc dean at my school, going grocery shopping, going to a couple meals out with my parent (mom and stepdad who are coming Wed-Thurs), seeing a real movie at the theater, and attending GA meetings. All approved. I had to provide an address for each place and I will have to have a form signed at each location - worth it!!!

After my drive back, I went immediately to my campus. I forgot how much construction happens in summer and had to go in several circles to get to the building I needed. The Associate Dean was waiting for me and was incredibly kind. He was not at all phased about having to fill out the attendance verification form once I said I was on home confinement. 

Anyway, as I knew, the grad school has very little to do with whether I get back into my school or not. It's all done on a departmental level. However, it's good I met with him, because he helped me figure out how I can take classes before formal admission, if I need it. Also, given that I may already have my grad assistantship lined up, he didn't see an issue for me to be admitted outside of the typical cycle (which would have meant waiting a full year to start back up once readmitted to the school). He did encourage me to consider other departments, which I am.

The Assoc Dean gave me advice that fits well with my own thoughts -use the past as an asset, not an incumberance. I certainly have even more passion for the value of education! He literally said, if you talk to them like you just talked to me, I think you'll have a chance. The biggest hurdle will be whether the programs think that having me as a student will harm their reputation. I need to turn it into an asset to have me.

It felt good to be on campus. It's where I belong. I may have to knock on 40 doors, but I just finished the first one and it was a positive experience. Plus he told me that his door remains open to me. That's a good thing.

After the meeting, I called my former supervisor from my graduate assistantship. That conversation also went super well. She'll be talking to her boss today and trying to get permission for me to help them out this summer, and in my old job once I am able... While her boss works out of the same office as my old advisor, I believe he knows my work enough and is an independent thinker. I pray he allows me to continue on. 

There are many, many more things I will need to do in order to move forward with my phd work, but at least I'm trying and I have certainly learned to jump through hoops!

Rules of Home Confinement

I had to sign two forms for home confinement, one was specifically by the community corrections place I was staying and the other by the Feds... I'll start with the Fed Rules (this is a blanket form, so not everything applied to every person) - parts in parenthesis are specific to my situation:

I understand and agree to abide by the following conditions during my period of Home Detention:

1. I will reside at my approved residence.
2. I will conduct myself in a lawful manner.
3. I will accept phone calls from RRC/Probation Staff, verifying my presence at my home and at my job site. I agree to maintain a telephone at my place of residence without "call forwarding," or "three-way calling" for this period and will, when requested, provide copies of my telephone bill to the Center/Probation staff. I also agree that if my confinement is to be electronically monitored, I will wear any electronic monitoring device required, follow procedures specified, and comply with any telephone and computer access restrictions as they apply to the monitoring device requirements.
4. I will accept the visits of RRC/Probation personnel to my job site and home.
5. I will return to the RRC/Probation at least (twice) weekly on (Monday and Thursday at 9am) for program participation, and more often if instructed to do so.
6. I understand I must continue mental health/psychiatric treatment, substance abuse treatment, sex offender treatment on Home Detention.
7. I will not own or possess any deadly weapon or knowingly be in the company of a person possessing the same.
8. I will remain steadily employed at: (Independent employment or school) ___ and will not change employment without prior approval of RRC/Probation staff.
9. I will not knowingly associate with persons having a criminal record, nor frequent places where illegal activities are conducted.
10. I will not drink alcoholic beverages of any kind; nor will I enter any establishments, such as bars or liquor stores, where the sale and/or consumption of alcoholic beverages on the premises is the primary business of the establishment.
11. Except as medically authorized, I will not use or possess narcotics, or other controlled substances, nor be in the presence of persons possessing the same.
12. I agree that during the Home Detention period, I will remain at my place of residence, except for employment, unless I am given specific permission to do otherwise.
13. I will not own or drive a motor vehicle without proper authorization.
14. I will abide by special instructions given to me by the RRC/Probation, e.g., electronic monitoring program participation.
15. I will submit to urinalysis or alcohol testing as requested by the RRC/Probation. I understand that ingestion of poppy seed food products may result in positive test results for unauthorized drug use and is therefore prohibited.
16. I agree to pay subsistence for the cost of my participation in home detention.
17. I understand that I am personally responsible for all costs of my housing, meals, and general subsistence, while I am on Home Detention.

RULES OF HOME CONFINEMENT
1. Report two times, in person to the ____ facility each week.
2. Telephone (the facility) each day after returning to your residence from place of employment.
3. Accept a telephone call at place of employment, from (facility) staff, when working.
4. Follow curfew of 9:00pm-6:00am. The only exception is for work.
5. Make copy of pay checks and pay subsistence each time you are paid.
6. Submit a urine sample and take a pbt each report day.
7. Provide signed verification from all appointments.
8. Call (the facility) two (2) times each day from your residence.
9. Accept telephone calls from (the facility) staff at your residence each day.

I understand that if (the facility) calls my residence and I do not answer, or make a return telephone call within 30 minutes, I will be ordered back to the (facility).

Homeward Bound

I'm going home, I'm going home, yes, yes, yes, I'm going home! At 11am I heard my name. I'd just started doing hall laps for the second time today out of pure boredom. I walk up to the bubble and I'm told, "go get your stuff." I look at her and say, "I'm going home?" "Yes, you're going home." Hurray!!!!! Tonight begins my next step closer to a 'normal' life.

I asked if I could make some phone calls - look for a ride - but what time I'm actually released is unknown. I still need to meet with my CW.

Five nights here. It's not a true HWH, for some it's rehab, others for drug court, for all it's a locked facility. I'll never know (I hope) the experiences of a true HWH. Perhaps Freckles will and that will inform us as all.

I was just called to the CW's office. I signed more forms (some that should've been signed when I arrived), went over this week's goals - no reason to leave home, except try and go to a GA meeting on Wednesday, and went over all the rules of home confinement (shared in a separate entry). My curfew is 9pm-6am, but I need advance okay to leave and do anything. I will be called on my home phone at least 3x/day, including in the middle of the night. The home phone and I will be best friends!!

I need to take a "rules test" for staying here, even though I am leaving. They need to take my photo. Then I'm allowed to call to get a ride home. I'll likely be out after dinner.

12:35pm I'm sitting in the tv room. My leg always shakes, but it's going especially crazy. I'm so happy to be going home! I should be in my room until 1pm according to the rules, but I no longer have a room. I'll be in the not so comfy chairs for the next six hours. I'm fine with that. They are certainly better than the blue benches at Carswell. I can be patient for anything now.

I had to pick up a bunch of "Request for Time Out" slips. Once pre-approved, anywhere I'd like to go, I need to pre-fill out the form and bring it with me when I go. All places outside my home will need to sign the form when I arrive and leave. Every Monday I will go over my schedule with my CW, so my week's activities will all need to be determined before the Monday.

It turns out my PO will have nothing to do with me during my home confinement. I will still do all my reporting here. There's so much the BOP is wrong on in the info they share with us. I hope my experiences help others get a feel for what to expect - or rather - expect nothing, because whatever you think is going to happen, it is rarely ever right. What they tell you will happen, is also rarely ever right.

A bird just flew into the window where I'm sitting. It fell straight to the ground. I'd check on it if I were allowed outside this building. Once home, I can sit outside, as long as my phone reaches in terms of reception. I will certainly take advantage of being able to get some fresh air.

I've warned T.S. and Sporty to be gentle with me, in terms of wanting me to catch up on a year's worth of everything right away. I said we should make a list of everything they want to show me (T.S. video blogs, pictures, movies, tv shows, new music, etc.) and we'll so a little every day. It's a little overwhelming to come back to a 'normal' life and it is certainly okay to do it with baby steps. Sleeping on a real bed, access to a refrigerator, playing with my dog, choosing my own clothes, using an oven, wearing a cute hat, playing on my iPhone, using the internet, writing directly into my blog, and communicating to anyone at anytime using a choice of mediums are things I haven't done in nearly 10 months.

Instead of seeing life as it was before I was locked up, my head is still in prison mode. I had a small sandwich bag last night and I turned and asked if anyone needed it before I threw it away. We don't throw things away in prison that can be repurposed. The good thing was that I didn't horde it in my locker (Red would be proud). Anyway, no one needed my sandwich bag and it went to the garbage.

I guess the good thing is that I certainly will have plenty of things to keep writing about for a while. I've now had this odd HWH experience, next will be a month of home confinement, then the transition to supervision. I'll be updating on new hoops I need to jump through, successes, learning points, and failures. A new chapter is beginning.

Before I finish uploading everything I've written from the last week, I need to out out a very special "thank you." Traveler has been keeping this site from literally around the world. She has responded to individual emails, made adjustments when necessary, and has truly been the Dragonfly Hazel alter ego for 10 months. While there are a lot of thank you's I owe to all the people who made my life better while I was away, this very special thank you goes to Traveler - because she really made it possible for you all to follow my adventures and for more than 40,000 hits to occur in such a short span of time. Thank you Traveler - you are officially off-duty and I will forever be grateful to you!! This pic is for you:

Food

I'm still waking on Carswell time. I asked the woman in the bubble if I could sit somewhere and write at 5am, not allowed, so I wrote in my not so comfy bed using my book light. I spend about half my day in this bed.

At 6am, I was allowed out of my room, so I drank an OJ (out of vending machine) and walked the halls for 30 minutes. I was missing Freckles - we walked together most mornings.

Breakfast was at 8:15am, but by then, my stomach was feeling pretty funky. By lunchtime - very funky. It must be the OJ - I hadn't had real OJ in nearly a year. It's like introducing things into one's diet during an elimination diet. I hear many foods may cause me a reaction. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to get any Pepsid, Imodium, or the like, so I have had to just face bouts of "ugh" through the day. So be it.

There's no programming here on Sundays. Some residents get furloughs with their families, many go to AA/NA meetings, others work - some of us continue to be locked in this building with nowhere to go. The one other non-smoker and I bonded over no fresh air.

So, we watched a movie with Kevin Costner called "Dragonfly" and I thought, "how aperpo." It was alright. Now, they are watching Step Up 2. A room filled with young women, slightly older than T.S. I would be watching something different, perhaps one of the movies they have that are considered structured time - "Walk the Line" or "Silver Lining..." about characters dealing with addiction...

9:15pm We are watching "The Hunger Games." We have 1 & 2, but due to smoke breaks, dinner saves, pill line, etc we will only get through #1 tonight. I'll watch #2 at home. I am still in hope of going home tomorrow. I am thinking it must be true, because I am on the last page of this journal - a journal Freckles got me during the merry-go-round. So, I guess I need to go home to get a new notebook :-)

Since I get a night time medication, I automatically get a snack - bologna sandwich with mustard and a small cranberry juice every night. I give away the sandwich and drink the juice.

I love the line just spoken in Hunger Games, "Hope is the only thing stronger than fear..."

Hall Walking

In 2008, not only was my family trying to handle my crisis, but we also had another one - my maternal grandmother was moving back due to her Alzheimer's diagnosis. She'd married just a few years ealier to her high school sweetheart, after my grandfather passed away. The old high school sweetheart turned out to be too overwhelmed to be able to care for my grandma, once her memory issues (mild at the time) started to impact their lives. He was actually a jerk and one good thing of my grandma's Alzheimer's (much more advanced now) is that she only remembers her 52 years married to my grandfather, whom she refers to as the love of her life - even though his name now escapes her.

My grandma actually asked us to move into an assisted living place - one she enjoyed going to for daytime activities. Sporty worked there, so we knew she'd get good quality care. They also offer all levels of care - so she started in an apartment, then a studio, then a room with nursing care, and now she's in a full care room.

My grandma had always been active and when she first moved there, she would walk the halls - sometimes a couple times/day- doing laps like many people do at malls. She wanted to stay fit - she was always tiny waisted.

Now, I find myself following in my grandma's legacy - walking the halls. It actually makes me think of her, which is a good thing. My grandma learned to make the best of being locked inside her assisted living home and I can, also, make the best of living in this converted old nursing home turned rehab/HWH by trying to stay active and walk the halls.

VISITATION
I did end up getting permission to have T.S. and Sporty visit me today. They only allow 1 hour visits - so they traveled 3 hours total and spent an hour with me sitting in the cafeteria. Only two of us had visitors. From 4-5pm, there's another visitation time, but I was only allowed a single visit for the weekend.

It was a good visit. We hardly got enough time to talk. T.S. needs me home to help make her room more comfortable. A lot of my stuff is in boxes in the basement storage. We may struggle with three adults sharing a single vehicle, but I'll use Hope whenever I can. I'll also take the bus. I'm too grateful to be going home to be picky. The bus stop is 2 blocks from where I'll be living. I'll only need a car on the days I have to check back in here. I know we'll figure out how to make it work.

I'm off to lunch and then my laundry duty for  a bit. I'll probably finish my book after. Then a couple hallway laps. I miss my friends - both those on the outside and those I met inside.

5pm I finished the Tami Hoag book I was reading - spending far more than the one hour they allow us to read each day. It's saturday, so many watched a lot of tv/movies. I chose to read.

I'm not sure if it is due to the younger age here, but people don't seem as serious about being locked up. Then again, most go out often - work, shopping, AA/NA meetings... They eat McDonald's and Taco Bell when they are out (whether authorized or not) and really don't show the gratitude of having this experience over jail/prison.

Turns out many of them were meth manufacturers and users, much like the people I met in prison. However, they avoided federal conspiracy charges or turned state's evidence. One woman I met testified against the big wigs and was sent here instead of facing 10-20 years in prison.

People staying here have to pay rent. I do not. Those with jobs must give 25% of their income as rent. Those without jobs are also assessed a rent, but I don't know how it is decided. Any resident that works a full kitchen shift received $6 off their rent. If they "volunteer" enough shifts, they can pay off their entire monthly rent.

Since we are not supposed to sit in our rooms, I joined others in our only other space - the tv room. They put on a scary movie, though, so I'm trying not to pay attention. I have no blanket to hide under and no hand to squeeze. I don't do scary well - especially when the suspense music constantly makes my heart skip a beat in fear.

T.S. and Sporty brought me some more clothes. Clothes that were once tight to too small, are falling off me. It's a good feeling and I hope I can at least maintain, if not lose some more weight. I already told T.S. that I'm getting her up every morning to work out with me. At 19, she likes to sleep, but she will have work and classes this summer, so she is truly transitioning into a young adult. She's decided to look up recipes on Pintrest and she wants to cook dinner once a week. I welcome her wanting to do so, although the ingredients will still be bought by Sporty and myself.

I haven't seen the sunshine for 1 1/2 days. Well, I see it through windows, but I want fresh air. I'm going to ask if I can get some fresh air at the courtyard outside of the House Smoke times. I should also be allowed some outside time, even if I don't smoke. Time for me to go... I can't keep being in this room... movie is really scary...

Locked Up

12pm I spent the morning in my room, because everyone here is working on some programming, except me. Of course, I fell asleep. It's still way uncomfortable on my bunk, but it's better - I'll take better! I used my exercise band and did what I could. Then, I went to see when my intake would be. I was told they'd get me, and it was supposed to be this morning. When I found the staff that does the intake, she said, "gather everyone that's new and we'll do it now...," but everyone that's new is in a meeting, so now it's rescheduled for later this afternoon.

I, also, inquired on whether I am leaving today. My CW already left for the day. The other CW said she'd look into my file. I'll be here, locked inside, for the weekend if I am not given the approval to head home. I'm building anxiety, but the serenity prayer is a constant chant in my head. I wish I could go for a walk, get some sun, or be doing something productive. At least lunch was good - chicken patties, broccoli, and chips. They use these plastic adobe looking round plates, so every meal feels southwestern - ha! In this meal, I used my handy dandy spork for the broccoli and to spread my mayo. It really is the all go to tool. I will never down the spork again!

They haven't placed me on a house job, because I am leaving so soon. CW didn't approve my visitors for the weekend - I really think she thought I wouldn't be here. I hope the other CW can help make it happen!

1pm. I met with the nurse. He was a nice guy. We talked about medical care in the BOP and later, as he did my assessment, he told me I was medically knowledgeable. Yeah, I have some background on the stuff. All vitals were good - no follow up necessary.

I am not going home today... There are no notes from my CW, so there's nothing they can do until Monday. Seems the workers here are as capable as those at Carswell. Tell you one thing, drop the ball, and you are left with staying longer.

Intake was filling out a bunch of forms. The CW kept telling me that they were not relevant to me because I'm not programming, so just skip it or sign my name at the bottom. Since I'm here more than 24 hours, they need to have the paperwork in my folder. Glad it'll look to their bosses that they are dotting their i's and crossing their t's. There's a packet of papers about programming that I have to complete this weekend. One was a drug/alcohol assessment. For every question my honest answer was "no" or "n/a."

When I start my organization in the future, no one will be told that there is no programming for them. Every resident will receive their own plan to follow - individual and group opportunities. For this weekend, I was told to just get used to this place and the many rules. I believe a different/real HWH would have been more appropriate for me...

LAUNDRY WARS???
3:30pm The laundry room contains two front loader washers and dryers. Too bad, one of them is broke. The procedure is that we sign up in advance for a laundry machine. Since no one was signing up for one of them, I correctly deduced something must be wrong with it. Even so, there are plenty of open times for the working one. I chose 3:15pm. My short stay seemingly longer and lack of clothing choices (T.S. brought me plenty of undergarments, but not much in terms of shirts/pants and no pj's), I really need to wash.

So, at 3:15pm, I get whatever blah powder laundry soap the staff in the bubble gives me and go to the laundry room. The washer still had a good 30 minutes left. In Carswell, this would be war. So, I go back to the bubble and inquire about procedure if laundry is running late. I don't want trouble. No trouble, here, just go in when it's empty - oh, how the real world works... No screaming down the hall, "Washer #2!!"

IRONY
5:30pm I write about laundry, go to eat dinner, and as I'm exiting, I'm told I'm officially on laundry detail as my house job. Ummm, okay.

This is institutional laundry - sheets, blankets, towels, etc. Wash, dry, fold, repeat. Plus, make sure we have five sets ready at all times - impossible, because we only had two towels, 1 wash cloth, and 2 pillow cases, so anyone who gets a set will be missing one or more things. No wonder it took me so long to get a pillow case!

It's downtime after house jobs, so I folded, swept the floor, and went to my room. All I have for the rest of the night is the phone at 7pm and pill line at 9pm. #2 is in her bed grunting, but doesn't appear to be doing anything to herself this time. #1 is in her usual pissy mood. She keeps the room door wide open, #2 wants it closed. I'm just minding my own business.

I walked some hallway laps before dinner. The two hallways we can use make an "L" shape (with the bubble at their intersection). One hallway is about 50 yards, and other about 100, so back and forth, back and forth.

I learned this building used to be a nursing home. I can see it - the doors are extra wide, bathrooms without showers, etc. Based on it's look, though, it was probably never a "nice" nursing home. It's very institutional - cinder block walls, ugly linoleum floors. On the room ceilings, the rails are still there for the separator curtains that once separated the two residents in each room for privacy. Now, I know why there are so many hospital beds - they must've come with the building! Also, these old sheets and blankets - wow, it must have been a foreclosure!

You Don't Look Like a Felon
8:30pm For the umpteenth time since my arrival two days ago, I was told, "You don't look like a felon... what'd you do?" I answer honestly and no one can figure out why I was prosecuted. They don't understand what fraud means. I've had a lot of time since my crime, but it doesn't make me any less guilty of it.

Today, two different young staff members made the comment, including the young women who first processed me. They are new grads with bachelors in Criminal Justice. I used to teach their courses at a community college. In another life, these young women could have been my students. One talked to me about law school. A resident also talked to me about law school. She is also a fed case and she's applying to my same university. She did her undergrad there, too. I'm glad she doesn't see her felony as the end of her career goals - just like I don't. I pray she's successful!

There have been tears here today - people dealing with family issues, inability to take their narcotic drugs (not allowed at all), a woman discharged saying goodbye, a funeral of a friend, and more. Most are fairly new to being sober and don't yet know how to deal with emotions or handling difficulty. They just smoke, smoke, smoke. I feel sad for their struggles. 

I finished all the paperwork I was told to fill out this weekend. One question I found specifically interesting is "what is a victim?" I answered, "someone who believes life is happening "to" them, rather than an opportunity to learn and grow. My answer hadn't prepared me for the next question - very fitting based on my writing over the last 24 hours, "who were my victims?" This time I answered incredibly different - again listing all the people my actions hurt. Life didn't happen "to" them. They still hold anger and resentment, years later. Yet, I don't like the term "victim," I prefer "survivor." I guess they are the survivors of my addictive behavior. Are they victims or survivors? I don't know. Perhaps because of this time of the year - May 5th, 2008 my last gamble, May 11th, my unintentional intervention, June 9th, my first GA meeting (my clean date) makes this a good time to reflect on all the people I hurt, the community, the staff, friends, family, and myself. I must live in the present, though, and right now I must just keep moving forward and do good in this world. I may never make my victims/survivors whole or happy, but maybe I can help enough other people to make up for my past and my addiction.

FIRE DRILL
11pm Laying in bed, reading a 1990's book by Tami Hoag - "beep, beep, beep... beep, beep, beep..." Fire alarm. #2 runs out - she immediately falls to the ground outside, covering her ears. At Carswell, the flashing lights caused several seizures during each drill, for #2, it's the sound that causes her seizures. She didn't have a seizure tonight, though. UGH, the alarm just started going off again... #2 just made another run for it out the door. We were told not to go, but she was already out. They are saying she's AWOL, but she's just outside the door, covering her ears. It's still going off 5 minutes later, my ear plugs help a little.

Anyway, during the first fire alarm at 11pm, we exit the building and they do roll call - 40 men and about 50 yds away are the 40 women. There's a big racial difference between the men and the women. 90% of the men are African American, only 3 of the women are. Not sure why. Two men didn't get up, so we are warned - fire alarm again tomorrow night at 11pm. Something to look forward to.

It's past lights out, but #2 is still not back and the fire alarm finally shut off. Conversations are still loud in the hall. It may be a long night!

Halfway House v. Federal Prison

I know I am not having a real halfway house experience. This place is a community lockup/rehab. However, based on my personal experiences, I thought I would provide a breakdown of the differences...

Dress/Attire
HWH: You can have your own clothes with some restrictions; no shorts; must have no jeans on at dinner
Prison: Uniform and the greys you purchase; dress in anything for breakfast and dinner, dress in uniform all day and for lunch; you will get sick of khaki or whatever color your uniform is

Fresh Air
HWH: Only allowed outside for smoking and pre-approved furloughs (work, etc.)
Prison: Allowed out on all open moves with a pass during the day and without a pass at night; if at a camp - you do not have to wait for open moves

Passes
HWH: Put in paperwork in advance to get possible approval to go to store, library, time with family
Prison: Stand in line at half hour to get a pass to stay on compound and go to rec center, outdoor rec, the chapel, library, etc.

Visitors:
HWH: Fill out form about one week in advance to get approval; visits last 1 hour and are allowed 3 days/week.
Prison: One someone is approved they can visit any Saturday/Sunday between 8am-3pm.

Narcotic Medications
HWH: None allowed, even if prescribed
Prison: Wait in long pill line to receive prescribed narcotics

Physical Activity
HWH: Do what you can in your room/on your bed.
Prison: Get pass and go to the rec center where there's equipment to use and/or go to outdoor rec and walk the track or join an organized sport.

Reading
HWH: Allowed for one hour per day.
Prison: Anytime during your down time.

Urine Tests
HWH: As often as 1-2x per week
Prison: 1-2x/year unless you have a dirty UA

Rooms
HWH: 2-3/room in 10x20 with a door
Prison: 4/room in 7x10 with no door

Bathroom
HWH: Attached to room, shared by two rooms ~ 6 people
Prison: Community, shared by 150-300 women

Showers
HWH: Open room with 5 shower heads
Prison: Private stalls with doors

In-House Jobs
HWH: Everyone is put on a work crew doing cleaning type work
Prison: Choices of jobs throughout the institution, only orderlies are responsible for large institutional cleaning

Outside Jobs
HWH: Allowed any legal job
Prison: No jobs off the compound. Some camps have employment deals with local businesses.

Library
HWH: A selection of about 50 books published in the 1990's and earlier
Prison: Thousands of titles from classics to current; all vampire books are not allowed

Food
HWH: Follows a four week schedule; no set food service workers; institutional grade food
Prison: Follows a five week schedule; food workers with experience; institutional grade food

Travel
HWH: No shackles; can have own car/scooter or take the bus
Prison: No leaving

Sleep Wear
HWH: In any proper pj's
Prison: the provided pj's or tshirt and shorts; must sleep in bra

Healthcare
HWH: Your own doctors and your own insurance
Prison: Their doctors, free

Money
HWH: Pay cash for snacks, taxi, soda, phone use
Prison: All funds are deposited into your account by an outside entity

Rent
HWH: Pay 25% of income
Prison: Free; in rare instances you pay for your bed

Commissary
HWH: About 12 snack foods available
Prison: All hygiene, food, snacks, spices, clothing, etc.

Down Time
HWH: Only one hour/day in room allowed besides specified room times
Prison: Anytime you are not working you can be in your room (unless it's inspection)

Cleanliness
HWH: I'm thinking the bathroom hasn't had a good cleaning in years
Prison: The orderlies clean it daily.

Count/Roll Call
HWH: They come around and look for you and mark you off
Prison: Stand count 2-3x/day.

Phone
HWH: Unlimited calls in 15 minute intervals ($1/15 minutes); must sign up earlier in the day for a later time slot
Prison: 15 minute calls; wait 30 minutes between each call (about $3/15 minutes)

Email
HWH: None
Prison: Access through TruLincs

Smoking
HWH: Various times through day
Prison: None

Television
HWH: Videos/television after 9pm
Prison: Available most of the day, own a radio to hear

Ages
HWH: Avg age around 24
Prison: Avg age around 35

Diversity
HWH: 90% Caucasian
Prison: 25% Caucasian, 50% Latina, 23% African American, 2% Other

Recovery
HWH: Drugs & Alcohol Only
Prison: Drugs & Alcohol Only

Room Cleaning
HWH: 1x/week
Prison: Every day

Beds
HWH: Pancake thin mattress on a bunk bed
Prison: Usually bunk bed with mildly thicker mattress

Pillows:

HWH: paper thin: plastic cover; unsure of inside material (if there is any)

Prison: Feather pillow; Throws feathers out of seams everywhere in room; cloth striped cover

Staff
HWH: Young; Just out of college
Prison: Older, many nearing retirement; Mean

Lockers
HWH: Wait in line and ask permission to get into a 1'x2' locker; Lock and combo provided
Prison: 3'x2' locker with own lock available anytime in room

Education
HWH: Get a book and study on your own
Prison: GED and adult ed classes available

Shots/PRN
HWH: Five non-serious or one serious PRN = lose privileges for a week
Prison: Any non-serious will be punished, serious will go to SHU

Unit Relaxation/Work Space
HWH: Small sitting room or dining hall
Prison: Atrium, TV rooms, Desk in room

Appointments
HWH: Hung at window in handwriting or told
Prison: Call-Out sheet provides all appointments for the next day

Ice Water
HWH: No ice available
Prison: Ice available in the unit anytime

Case Worker
HWH: one for every 20 residents
Prison: one for every 250 inmates

Paper/Pencils
HWH: Bring your own
Prison: Provided for free

Time Spent in Institution
HWH: 1-6 months
Prison: 6 months - 50 years

Recovery Programs
HWH: Drug/alcohol program available
Prison: Drug/alcohol program available; gets you time off your sentence

Religions
HWH: 99.9% Christian
Prison: 90% Christian; 5% Muslim, 5% Other

Distance
HWH: Within hours of your home
Prison: Anywhere within 3,000 miles from home

AWOL

10pm. Earlier today a new woman checked-in. Her mom and son were here dropping her off. It seemed her son had special needs. The new resident hugged her mom and son goodbye and her mom told her she was proud of her. She'd get one phone call tonight and then she'll be allowed to call again in a week - she's in an intensive program that will save her from going to jail/prison. I'm not sure her full story, but one or more serious DWI's got her in here. I had dinner with her. She didn't touch her food.

About 15 minutes ago, she stood behind me in the bubble line. She seemed okay for her first night here. I don't know what she asked the woman in the bubble, but 10 minutes later, she had her sneakers on and she ran out the back door. She's officially AWOL.

She's from a couple hours away from here, so she didn't go home. A bench warrant will immediately be put out on her. I just imagine the reaction from her mom at home, as she will have to care for her grandchild that much longer, while Mom goes to jail.

The gossip has spread among the women here. They are surprised she didn't give it at least one day. Turns out three different people - two females and one male when AWOL just this week. Back to the realities of addiction - you can't force someone into recovery. I pray for the woman and her son that this is her last hurrah and she surrenders herself to getting well. If not, she's looking at the three promises of addiction - prison, insanity, or death. Now I know why there's a door with an "AWOL Closet" sign on it. The newbie's stuff will go in there tonight.

Ouch

What a difference a day makes. The pain I feel in my back, neck, and shoulders is indescribable. I get up to do some stretches and the top bunk is too low for me to do so. I move to the cold, hard floor instead. I went to sleep without my medication and still no towel. I wish I could take a walk, but there's no where I can go to do so. I now see why I was not medically cleared for RRC/HWH.

6:45am is mandatory meeting time where they do a roll call and you let them know what meals you will eat here for the next 24 hours. I said, "lunch save," which means I may not be here for lunch at 11:45am. I went to the bubble to see about my meds - but none are approved still. I try to explain that my medication regiment is important, but there's nothing that can be done until someone approves them, and it's not her.

I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have difficulty getting my injection for my doc appt that morning, and she said, "your insulin?" I explained that it's not insulin and is very expensive medication. Turns out it made it to the fridge, but they didn't have the boxes handled correct side up. I was able to fix that. The woman in the bubble looked at me with eyes telling me to not ask any more questions. I walked away without any of my medications for the last 24 hours and said I'd be back at 7:30am to pick up my injection.

The 40 women here are averaging in their mid 20's. There are only a few other women here who kinda look about my age. The BOP folks, like me, all seem a bit older. This morning, one of the BOP folks told me that she just got there from Lexington. She knew Lola before Lola transferred to Carswell. Small world.

I put my blanket on the floor to do some stretching, but my body hurt too much and I could barely do anything. I pray some stuff gets answered today for me. Here's my list so far:

• Can I get a medical mattress?
• What will procedure to give myself my injections be?

Time out, my roommate is masturbating with herself and grunting loudly - never dealt with it quite that way in Carswell ---

• Can I have a towel?
• What does home confinement orientation include?
• How can I get on the public assistance website so I can sign up for health insurance?
• Can I attend a GA meeting?
• Can I go to the library?
• Can I have visitors?
• Can I have a bedside table/set of drawers like everyone else?

12:30pm. I am back from my doctor appointment and laying on the hard bunk I am assigned. I ate breakfast with Pink and Lexington. They both should be on home confinement, but this place is holding them - sounds familiar. Scares me a bit, but I need to put my future in god's hands and just get through today.

We have to bring a bright orange spork with us to every meal. We each get one. It is our spoon, fork and knife all in one. Breakfast was cereal and toast. I was given frosted flakes. No healthier options. Oh well.

T.S. was at the door when I came out of breakfast. She looks so good, gosh I missed her. I walked to the door to ask her if she brought me the clothes I requested. I then was screamed at - didn't know we couldn't approach the door. Anyway, my few items she brought were searched and I quickly headed to my room to change out of my greys - finally!!! No time for a shower - and I still don't have a towel anyway.

Outside, I was finally able to give T.S. a great big hug. I'm tired and worn out, so, I wasn't very engaging as T.S. drove me 1 1/2 hours to my doctor appt. I did get to put one quick Facebook post up - a self pic with "I'm back... sorta!" I'm not sure of the Internet rules, so I don't want to be online until I'm given permission to do so. Another thing I did was "unfriend" more than half the people on my Facebook. It's not that I don't want to be their friends anymore, I just want to wait until I know they choose to be a friend and not a hater. Those I know support me, I kept. I was especially glad I chose to do that BEFORE I stumbled on a bunch of negative comments from an earlier dragonfly hazel post. They judge me without really knowing the story, thinking I am not worthy of a second chance or being in school. I thought to myself, these people know nothing of who I am and if I chose not to tell them my deepest past secrets, then that was my right. I didn't lie, I used discretion and I chose to tell those I was closest to and trusted - isn't that what we all do? So, I decided I want my Facebook friends to be those who I can put into my circle of trust. I will share this site with them. I will happily add back those I took off, if they want to continue a friendship knowing all of me.

Meanwhile, while I am capable of deleting these past negative comments on my writings/feelings, I choose not to. Everyone has a right to their own opinions. People can think anything they want of me. They are obviously perfect human beings, never dealt with addiction, and never felt true desperation. As for me, I live with my mistakes, my crime, the reality of what I did, and I choose to try to do the next right thing. I did a lot of good things, even when I was destroying myself, but never was I proud of myself until I got into recovery, got healthy, and learned forgiveness - especially to forgive myself. I don't need anyone to like me, as long as I like myself. Luckily, I have an incredible community of support, who also practice love, compassion, forgiveness, kindness, and honesty. I think I'll keep my energy flowing in their direction.

So, we get to my doctor's appointment just in time. I am weighed - down like 45 lbs since I was here a year ago. Once I am in a patient room, I immediately say, "I just want to make sure you know, before you spend any time with me, that I don't yet have any health insurance..." It didn't seem a problem to them.

I answered all their pain/health questions I need to answer every time I'm here... I just got pulled into a meeting with my case worker, so more to report, but first back to my doctor appt... I'm asked if I have anything specific to address. I say, "many things, but today let's just concentrate on immediate needs..." I am to continue my medications, she gave me an update of my medical restrictions, and I'll come back in two months for a more thorough appointment.

So, we go through a typical visit, an hour long, and I give myself my enbrel injection in front of the nurse, and may medical record is updated. I got the form showing where I was and what I was doing signed, a copy of my medical needs, and went back to T.S. - they only charged me $10 for my visit!!!!

Driving back to the community facility (can't call it a HWH, because it is not one), I was better able to talk with T.S. as she drove. Gosh, I've missed her. We got me back to the facility 20 minutes before my "pass expiration" I waited at the door to be let in, pat down, stuff searched... I signed in and handed them my verification form. My case worker (CW) immediately requested my home phone bill - the phone that is a house phone with no call forwarding --- sporty had sent it in with T.S., so I was ready. Her asking for it meant she must be working on my file - that must be a good thing!

I head to my room to relax, first asking permission to go into my locker to put my personal items in there - health records, license, debit card, etc. About 20 minutes later, I was told to go see CW. I had to ask where to find her, I'm new after all. There is a "wing" to the building that is all administration and I found her office down that corridor.

Good news immediately - someone is heading toward where I live tonight, and if they can do the home visit, my time here will be way less. I asked if there's any possibility I could be home for the weekend - she said a slight one. I'll hold on to that hope! First, Sporty needs to be home when they show up tonight - she's busy being oriented for her new job, so I pray we can reach her in time. Also, I need to fill out a form that I'll have access to Sporty's car and Sporty will need to write a notarized letter, that I have permission to drive her car. So, there's lots to do immediately - I can handle that!

CW also told me that my intake will be tomorrow morning, but "you won't be expected to complete any programs..." She did read my file and saw she can't really hold me here medically. She is working to get me out of here! I will be meeting with the nurse as well tomorrow, but CW told me to not emphasize anything wrong with me, because I won't be there long enough for the nurse to do anything for me. Sweet words to my ears.

I signed a bunch of papers and asked the questions I had come up with that were still relevant. She told me she'd find me a second mattress and pillow. She was reluctant to give me a medical bed, because I'm LEAVING so soon... I am okay with that!

I told CW that I promised region/BOP that I'd sign up for health insurance through the ACA website within 24 hours. CW said, "well, that's not going to happen..." No access to internet here. I'll have to wait until I'm home.

Under home confinement, I will have to come to the institution every Monday and Thursday morning., I will need access to a vehicle - Sporty's. We'll work that out. I won't have any electronic monitoring. I will always have a 9pm curfew, except for work or school. I'll have to call in frequently and be home for their random calls on the home line. I can't go anywhere without advance approval.

CW asked me a bunch of questions. I asked if I am here for the weekend, could I attend a GA meeting. She said, "what's that??" I'm so used to that response, but this is a place of recovery, the serenity prayer is in the dining hall like 12 times, yet she doesn't know of GA. Such a misunderstood addiction!

When the meeting was over, I was happy on "hope," so I called T.S. She has plans but will cut them short to be home for the home visit if her mom can't be. She's such an amazing young woman! By the time I saw SW at the bubble that afternoon, both Sporty and T.S. had called her and said they'd be home. I also called survivor - I so miss her. I haven't seen her since she dropped me at the gate the first day. It was a short, but good, call.

SW helped me find a second tiny mattress and another flat pillow. Pink got me an old stained but clean towel. I'm not getting a chest of drawers/night stand, so be it. Home is closer now. I feel it.

Speaking of home, I finally reached Red's MIL. She had not gotten my message from yesterday - not sure why not. So, I start telling her about Red, the Marshalls, etc. She had no idea what I was talking about. She picked up Red at the bus and she's home now. I guess the Marshalls didn't show. She'll still take care of the charge, but she's home with her babies. That brings me so much peace!!

5pm. I was given access to my approved medications finally. Dinner consisted of a meat and macaroni dish that I can't quite describe (gross), carrots, cornbread, and 2 more slices of white bread.

Still more to write for the day... but taking a break... more entries to come asap.

It's a Hard Knock Life

Okay, I obviously wrote too much, while I was offline... back to what I'd written longhand...

My large medicine box could not fit in the overhead compartment or under my seat on the smaller plane. Luckily, the flight attendant could move me to the back of the plane, where there was more space...

Arrive at the small town "international" airport (they must go to Canada or something for it to be considered international) and follow signs to ground transportation. I found a counter with taxi/sedan/limo on a sign. I'm told that all transportation must be arranged through them. I give my HWH address and they have me pre-pay $29 for the trip. I was given $55, so I'm not complaining. Meanwhile, an older lady comes to the counter to get a taxi home. She's charged $39 and is pissed, "it used to be only $19!" She gives in, of course, we all need to get to where we need to go... but lo and behold, they have only one car available - we are asked if we would mind sharing the taxi. I ask for a discount. We are each given $5 off our trip and we then agree. Poor lady didn't yet realize I was going to the absolute opposite side of the town than she was, so her ride would be twice as long. It's a small city, though, so we are talking the difference between 10 minutes and 20 minutes. So be it.

We go to the "taxi" and it's actually a sedan. Okay, we can travel in style. The lady asks me a bunch of questions. Picture her - very trendy dresser, fancy earrings, late 60's, grandmother for sure... Discretion definitely came in handy. She asked where I was traveling from, how long I was there, why I have such a big box of medication, what's medically wrong with me, etc.

So, what I did not say is, "I just got out of prison this morning, where I spent nearly a year, got no medical care except for my medication (well, most of my medications), and I have serenegative spondyloarthropathy... you are about to drop me off an an unnamed/unsigned large building in a bad neighborhood where I will spend more time with other felons, drug abusers, and other needing a hand up..." Nope, I didn't say that. I could just see her eyes bulge out of their socket. Instead, I just said, "I was in the Dallas/Fort Worth area for several months. I have to travel with my medication for an autoimmune condition. I'm going to a place to see someone." Enough said.

So, I'm dropped off at the front door of the RRC/HWH - it looks like a business office. I go to the main door, oops - men's side - I need to carry my stuff - big box included (tape handles broke off) - and make my way around the building and along a path to the women's side. I find the right number door, and go inside.

You know the look of old seedy motels, well, that's the feel when you walk into the women's side of this place. The men's side has a stained glass window and looks nicer, but you walk in here and there's a desk called the "bubble," where the staff members sit behind a plexiglass with a slot open at the bottom like a bank, and a talking hole too high for my height. Women were everywhere, doing a million things - going in/out of lockers, getting cigarettes, cleaning floors, going to meetings, sitting in a small courtyard, on the phone, asking for mail, asking for laundry soap, buying snacks, coming in from school/work, taking urine tests, getting alcohol breath checked, etc.

I stood at the bubble to be processed in. The young woman is new, never processed anyone before, and didn't know where to begin. It was 5:15pm. I just stood there, taking in the grittiness of the place - everything is old and warn down.

It became quickly apparent that the BOP inmate is the exception to what they usually have here. Most are here for drug/alcohol issues - there are a number of programs - rehab, drug court, swift and sure, and others that they do while in there. It is not a real halfway house, it is a locked down community correctional place. Only four other federal inmates are here on their "halfway house" time. I met one, she knew Danbury. She was supposed to be on home confinement weeks ago, but she's still here.

Anyway, a male staff member from the men's side comes to finally help me get processed in. I answer questions - out address, past drug/alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies, medical issues, etc. There's not enough room on the form to list all my medications or medical issues. Meanwhile, I am still standing and I have to use the restroom. So, this gives us the time to do my urinalysis and my strip search. Squat, spread 'em, cough - yep, once again. My breath is checked for alcohol "0.0." I'm back standing at the bubble for a while longer. It's after 6pm, so I ask for a chair, and they allow me to bring one up to the bubble. So, I sit down, lower than any openings in the plexiglass and attempt to hear their questions and provide answers. A ton of people continue to need the young staff woman's attention and the guy has to go back to his side of the facility, so, she gets pretty flusterred. Meanwhile, my box of medication is still sitting there - along with all my belongings - for her to sift through. At 6:35 pm, I ask if there's any way I can get something to eat. I know she is still processing me in, but I'm getting hungry and she keeps getting pulled away. She disappears to the kitchen and comes out with a sack lunch. Two peanut butter sandwiches on white break, packaged grape jelly (the same jelly we had at Carswell!!), pretzels, and bright blue sugar drink. I made a sandwich , ate a couple pretzels, took a swig of the blue juice (dumped the rest - too sweet), and at least felt satisfied.

Back to the bubble. I'm taken on a quick orientation walk by another resident and she quickly goes through lockers, laundry, tv, phones, meal times, count, smoking, schedule, showers, etc. I remember about two things she said. However, I won't forget the showers - thing gym class with one open room with five shower heads - no dividers, no curtains - just open - UGH! I also learn that I'm allowed no shorts, no t-shirts, no hoodies --- okay, there goes my entire wardrobe!

Back to the bubble. I'm assigned a room - they seem reluctant to have to place me there, but it's the only lower bunk available. I'm put on a bunk with a mattress thinner than anything at Carswell on a metal frame. The bunk above it is really low, I can't sit on the bunk without hitting my head. I can't swing my arm to pull up a blanket without hitting the top bunk by accident. This place has hospital beds - about 50% of the residents are sleeping on decent medical beds. They don't have medical issues, they just were in the rooms first. I'm given a sheet and a blanket. Pink (Danbury's friend) comes by as I'm making my bed. I ask about a pillow, a set of drawers, some hygiene products, and a towel - all stuff that is supposed to be supplied. It's now after 7pm, and I'm still not fully checked in.

I am given a locker, a lock, and pretty much everything I brought from Carswell is in that locker now (the locker sits by the bubble and we have to ask permission to go in/out of it every time). My roommates both have the same first name. So, I refer to them as #1 and #2. They provided me with 3 shelves, of the 12 available in the closet. I don't have many clothes yet, but not sure that will work in the long run... they also take up 100% of the hanging closet space.

I am given 15 minutes to make a call. We can use the phone for $1 for 15 minutes - one or more calls - but 15 min total. We must sign up and pay in advance. There's only one phone available for long-distance calls. I try calling Red's MIL quickly - still no answer. I call Sporty. She's been worried sick about me. Everyone is texting each other asking if I'm out, if I got here, etc. I'm out, but I am not free. I'm still locked in a secured environment. I need permission for everything. I am still wearing my prison greys. I was self-carrying my meds, here, I have to wait in a pill line for all my meds. I will do my best to get acclimated - this is not forever.

#2 has already tried to sell me a pair of sneakers and to borrow 50 cents. I showed no interest in the shoes and I have no change. At about 8pm, I'm back at the bubble. It appears my intake is over (3 hours), but I have no pillow case or towel. The pillow I am given has no stuffing at all. it just lies flat. I also still need some hygiene products to wash up with. I go to my room to lie down, write and hope that some of the things will be provided at some point.

The pillow case arrives thirty minutes later. It smells, but so does the blanket and sheets. All appear to be like 20 years old and yellowing. It takes me minutes to get up from the flatness of the mattress on my bed. I will talk to them tomorrow about finding me something better. This place is not set up for accommodating medical needs. In fact, it's pill line time and since they haven't put my pills in the computer yet, they won't provide me with any of them. At 9pm, the box of my enbryl is even still sitting there, rather than the medication going into a fridge like it has to.

An unfortunate thought hits me at that moment - I would rather be back at Carswell. I want to take a shower and put on clean clothes. It feels like I am laying on a metal slab on the bed I'm provided. I'm all of HALT - hungry, angry, lonely and tired.

The room I am in is a suite- like at a college dorm, with a bathroom between two rooms. Everything here is old and dirty. It's my home confinement date, I don't understand why I am not going to my home confinement and instead have a new lock-up experience. I kind of feel like I'm at an orphanage right now - "It's a Hard Knock Life" (from Annie) keeps playing in my head.

I say the serenity prayer over and over again. I have a lot to be grateful for. I think about Red, possibly locked up at county, and I know I have nothing to complain about. I am even better off than the poor new young woman who is working at the bubble. She seems so overwhelmed and looks totally dazed. There are about 40 women here, but the chaos and drama already matches Carswell - except I hear no real fighting. It's loud, though, very, very loud. Music, talking, laughing, doors slamming, water running, shoes sliding, etc.

Whoa, #2 just got naked facing me - with leapard print undies on and I really did NOT want to see her naked. I'm actually glad my glasses are off, so I'm really only able to see a blur. It's a big enough room that she did not need to do that right next to my bed!

My suite mates are gossiping and talking about guys and drugs. I'm still in prison. It's just a smaller, older, less organized one. I should have brought my crochet blanket to work on!

10:15pm. I'm laying on metal. I am using my prison swearshirt to prop up my head. My back and neck are aching and I'm soooooo tired. My meds are still not in the computer, so I was not allowed to take any of my nighttime medications. I just received my hygiene pack - a plastic cup, same body soap/shampoo we had at Carswell, prison deodorant, a mini-toothbrush, scary toothpaste, and a mini-razor. Oh, and a spork. A plastic orange sport. I am hoping to get a towel still.

I never thought anything could be less organized than Carswell, but I was wrong. I hope I get my meds soon. I look forward to seeing T.S. in the morning. It'll be a better day!! I'm sure this place will get better as well. I'm not behind a fence anymore. I can wear my own clothes, and I'm much closer to friends and family!!

House Smoke

There are maybe two of us here that are not smokers. Everyone else begs for smoke permission. There are "smoke passes" that people earn by doing tasks/chores that can be used during certain hours. Otherwise, residents have to wait until "House Smoke" is screamed down the hallway. I've learned of a suitemate who lost her smoke privileges, so she went into our bathroom to smoke and then tried to cover it up with perfume. So, now I smell smoke and cheap perfume - lovely!

#1 looks like she would be a kind woman. However, when she opens her mouth, her language and attitude is worst than those at the feds! She's very rude. No idea why she's here - she is just so bitter! She received a box of clothes from home, I imagine, and when she went through it and there were no jeans, she threw all the clothes across the room and started screaming and crying. I'm staying out of her way.

There are four of us who have come in over the last three days. One DUI, two drug-related and me. They couldn't figure out what I'd done. One didn't know what a "white collar" crime was. I was told, "you don't look like a druggie." Thanks, I guess.

I haven't figured out the institutional schedule yet. There are times we must be in our rooms and times we are not allowed in our rooms, times we line up to have a breathalizer, times for pills, times we can ask questions at the bubble, times we can't, times the tv can be one, etc. There does not seem to be any quiet time!

As mentioned above, one of my suitemates is on restriction. She is not allowed to leave her room, not even for meals. She keeps getting screamed at by her roommates. Everyone has such good communication skills here...

There seems a big difference between those from state jail and the few of us from the Feds. Many did almost no time inside - maybe a week or 30-90 days before they were sent in for this program. Being here, and doing the programming, is part of their sentence. (My roommate is groaning again, ugh...). They will do the vast majority of their time locked up here, except for the ability to go to work. From what I can see, I can't imagine this place helping anyone to a better life. The jobs are at McDonalds or being a room cleaner at a motel, and they make minimum wage. They won't be able to even pay rent with such low pay. Education, real rehabilitation, and manners would go farther. These women are so young, real 1-on-1 time and help would possibly move them forward.

A woman just came to our door to talk with #2. She said her boyfriend died last night. He'd been clean for 7 months, but she suspects he went and shot up again. She can't get the full story from anyone. Today, she happened to receive four letters from the guy, sad. She's going to try to use a smoke pass, in order to deal with her grief.

Preparing Now for Life After

I've been told and read about the last part of our sentence. Many things could occur, and there are things we can do now to help prepare for the best scenario. Many people spend some time at a halfway house closer to their home and others actually get home confinement. This is before the end of their prison term- usually about 10% maximum. It is a way to transition us back into the community.

I have read that we should prepare an envelope with a copy of our birth certificate, drivers licenses, and social security card and leave it with someone we trust who will send it to us when it is requested. My guess is that these are the documents needed to obtain our job. I hope I will be allowed to return to school and work on campus. However, there are no federal halfway houses near where I live. The closest one is over an hour away, so I suppose I may have to do another job during that portion of my sentencing.

I was told that if we want home confinement instead of a hwh, as I do, we need to start the process with the prison immediately. This means knowing of an address where there is a landline where I will go for home confinement. I must be able to show a phone  that indicates there are no features, such as call forwarding, on the phone because it is prohibited.

For me, whether I get a hwh or go right into home confinement, I have three years of supervised release after prison. That may have some of those same rules. I'm very, very fortunate, though. My good friend (like family) Sporty, has decided to move from where I used to live to where I live now to help enable T.S. to have in-state tuition. In turn, we will once again be roommates and I will have a home to come "home" to. She has already agreed to all the requirements of the "phone line" and will be ready to talk with probation when they want to look at my release home. One of the best parts of this arrangement is that if I do have house arrest, I get to also get the companionship of my former dog that I raised with Sporty and T.S. who is certified as a therapy dog. Something tells me that I may need a lot of dog "therapy" after my months at Carswell.

Anyway, we are all doing a lot to prepare ourselves for going into our respective prisons, it is also very important to start preparing for our releases (no matter how long it may seem away).

The actual "therapy dog" referred to in this post.