Lifting the Fog

Anniversaries, birthdays and special days generally mean a lot to me. For example, today would have been my dad's birthday and marks two years of my freedom. My release from Carswell 2 years ago yesterday but it is the 29th that is the first day I did not wake up in a prison. Today I woke up and reflected on the past two years of how my life has changed, how I have grown, and how things in some ways are not so different. Mostly, though, I am thinking about the post-prison release fog that I was initially under and wondered where I may be in terms of my recovery from the experiences of living within the prison environment.

In recovery, we often talk of the fog that newcomers to our rooms experience at first. It is only with time away from our addictive behaviors and working our recovery program that the "fog begins to lift" and we see/hear the voice of true recovery start. The newcomer will often share things they didn't realize they were doing while in the throws of their addiction due to their irrational thinking/ behavior. They will start to put pieces of their behavior from that time together into patterns and start to understand how the addiction controlled so much of their life beyond just the acts of the addiction - chasing highs, financial woes, withdrawal, planning the next action, lies and hiding behaviors,... addiction consumes one's life and is progressive in its nature. It can take weeks, months, and for some, years for the fog to fully lift on all the ways our addiction hurt ourselves and the lives of those around us. Staying in recovery, talking about it in our rooms, counseling, and being honest, is the way our heads can clear fully from the fog to see our behavior and actions for what they were and recover fully.

What I've realized in these past two years is that time in prison, no matter who one is and the reason for the imprisonment, results in a similar fog. The day to day reality of prison life, with fears of the unknown, survival instincts at their highest limit, emotional abuse from prisoners and staff with little recourse, sights/sounds that no one should have to witness, policies that make little sense and can change without warning, overcrowded quarters, and the loss of the comfort of friends/family/home, results in prisoners undoubtedly needing a little support upon release. The fog prisoners, such as myself carry, includes emotions such as shock, fear, and anger. Even more so, though, we do not have easy outlets (like 12 step recovery programs) to work through how we may be feeling.

When living in prison day-to-day, a prisoner is not necessarily able to see the full picture of what prison life looks like from the outside or how all the little things add up. The concept of becoming "institutionalized," is often talked about, but it is not hard to understand that in order to survive in prison, it is practically impossible to stay 100% away from all the ways prison changes a person for the worst. I walked into prison and within the first week stated, "I am here for myself only...," yet found myself doing for others in ways I never imagined I would (even if it meant I was pushing up against prison rules). I swore I would not be part of the underground prison market, yet quickly learned it was truly the only way to survive. I knew no prisoner who did not at least 'purchase' through exchange of commissary goods some other goods or services through the underground market. I witnessed drug transactions, drug use and abuse within 2' of where I laid my head, saw innocent people blamed for the acts of others and did not speak up, saw domestic abuse and did nothing, became friendly with a woman who chopped her husband into several pieces because he cheated on her, sat at tables and talked with admitted child molesters for hours, snuck food out of the chow hall, and quit a job I loved because I was unable to stand up for myself against a woman bullying me. These are just a few of the experiences I had, and some I never wrote about for fear of what could happen to me from staff or other prisoners. Each day, these things were not as impactful on me as what they all together did even as I only served a short sentence. In many ways, I became institutionalized because I no longer was myself while I was in prison and the longer I was there, the more it felt familiar and the more I came to accept the unacceptable as normal.

Once out of prison, I could not just "jump" into life. Most ex-prisoners do not have to. We face the reality of halfway houses, come confinement, extended probation/supervision. Even as I write of freedom, I have my federal supervision which limits me still. Perhaps I could have been free of that by now too, but my health over the past 6+ months resulted in me not completing the large packet that must be filled out. I plan to complete it very soon and regardless my 3-year supervision will be over within the next year. Will freedom feel any different than now? The only real changes will be not having to ask for permission to travel and I will not have to complete a monthly report online. Perhaps I will set a goal to be off by the end of this calendar year. I like goals with dates.

The real reason I could not jump into life was not due to the Feds' restrictions on me, though, it was the fog. While I could get through my days, I was trying to get back to the life I had prior to prison (I was already in recovery so I am not talking about the life I had that led to my being incarcerated). The fog did not allow me to see that I was no longer the same person, even though I was still a good person and wanted some of the same things in life, I needed to work through how prison had affected me. I needed the fog to start lifting so I could start to put pieces of my time in prison together into patterns and start to understand how that time changed so much of my life beyond just how I thought about it day-to-day. I needed to be able to let go of the fears and learn to accept and live honestly about the trauma I had just experienced. We may be prisoners due to our own past mistakes, but that does not make us any less human from experiencing trauma and being victims ourselves.

Unfortunately, there is not a recovery program for recently released prisoners. In fact, after having built so much comradery with people who understood deeply our pain and fears with other prisoners while inside, we are suddenly cut off from them all and told we are never to have contact with them or anyone else with similar experiences again. It is exactly the fellowship of people who understand because they have gone through a similar experience or are having a similar experience that makes recovery programs so strong. Not being able to have that to recover from the trauma of life in prison, can result in depression, unhealthy behaviors (addictions), and back to the behavior that led them into prison in the first place or to violate their parole (revolving door due to the comfort of prison life).

Often people after prison will choose the decision to leave it all behind. South was one of those people. She was pretty clear that she would go home, pick up her life, and not talk about the experiences. She never kept in touch with anyone from what I know and I pray she is well. What worries me about people who choose to stuff the experiences is how secrets of traumatic experiences can eat away at us. If we are not open and honest about what happened to us, around us, etc., the trauma can come out in different ways (think military soldiers who do not find healthy ways to cope with combat experiences). Of course all people are difference and all prisoners have differing experiences, but based on what I experienced, the lives of those I met while at Carswell, and my criminal justice studies in the last two years, I really think it is openness and honesty with friends, family, and especially other people who went through similar experiences that helps lift our fog and leads us toward healthy decisions and a new life.

One thing that has helped me substantially is my own writing. Not new writing, because I obviously have failed to write as often as I used to, but my old writing from the time of my incarceration. I was able to add to this blog some of my letters that I wrote home as well as some important notes that I wrote while in prison and brought home with me. I added them to the blog on the days they were written. The blog posts and those additional letters/notes are the data for my thesis. It is very non-traditional to use a blog for a thesis, even more so to use one's own. I do not believe there is any thesis of a former prisoner who provides a hypothesis based research study off of data from a public blog maintained while they were in prison. My hypotheses are looking at the existence of self-efficacy and collective efficacy in women's prisons. I additionally look at whether prison staff influence self or collective effacy in a positive or negative way. Finally, I consider whether specific prisoner identity factors affect self or collective efficacy.

If you are curious, for my thesis, those words of self and collective efficacy mean:

Collective efficacy: shared social expectations that lead to control of social space to reduce tension, crime, etc.

Self-efficacy: people are able to produce what they hope to accomplish through their own actions and make appropriate behavioral decisions. This is based on the person’s ability to cope, put in effort, and sustain adverse obstacles without defensive behavior

Through my work on my thesis, I have been able to look back on my prison experience through the eyes of a researcher, as well as relive some experiences. Sometimes, I am shocked reading about what I wrote or sad that I did not include what I wish I could have (such as the full experience and effects of the Christmas night raid). Simply keeping my blog put me on alert and that reality, even today, is something I will never forget. I am grateful for this opportunity to look at the experiences published through this blog from an outsiders point of view, even if I lived them, as they are helping me continue to life my fog, even two years after my release.

I strongly suggest for anyone who is newly released from prison, that they find a healthy outlet to release their full experiences. Holding them in will not help them in the long run. Honestly will free us of the pain and help set us toward true freedom.

Never Get Too Comfortable

I've mentioned before that I've been concerned about the fact that I have not heard back from my PO lately and I need to be making my restitution payments and have some questions. My messages went unanswered, and he doesn't like repeat calls or emails, so it's a sit and wait game. However, I didn't want to violate my supervision either. I knew that this month I must make a payment, but since my case was transferred from one state to this state, I wasn't sure the protocol on where to make payments and last I talked to my PO, neither did he. What a lot of people don't realize, is that restitution is paid to the court clerk where you are sentenced, usually, not to the victims or some other entity. Additionally, all the restitution payments I made while incarcerated are still not showing up on my paperwork as being applied to my overall restitution debt.

This morning, I decided to head over to my PO's office. I guess I can just go there any week day, although I never have been there since my first day of official supervision. I went to drop off two forms. One form was a listing of all the gambler's anonymous meetings I've been to since July 2nd. It actually wasn't all of them, but most of them. It's a technicality that I have to have the form filled out and I attend at least a meeting every week. They have to have proof that I'm serious about my recovery. I am. Included was the G.A. conference I attended a couple weeks ago. He was pleased I went to it. He really doesn't understand how serious about recovery I am.

The second form was my first ever "travel authorization" form. It was for permission to travel to where my family and friends are for the Yom Kippur holiday weekend. It usually takes two weeks to receive approval, but luckily my PO was in, took me into his office for about 45 minutes, and approved me for my first trip out of state on the spot. In October, I will officially be able to take a road trip for a weekend. I'm truly looking forward to it! The fact that I need to go through that process, though, is that reminder - I am still in supervision - possibly for another 2 3/4 years - and my life is not mine to live freely. I have restrictions.

Interestingly, my PO asked me if I've had any "police interaction" recently and I honestly answered, "no." However, Sporty was driving my car last night and was pulled over. She was driving in a turn only lane and went forward, the cop just gave her a warning - this was just last night. Turns out that since it was my vehicle, my name popped up at my PO's office this morning. All was fine, but I guess he would have been forced to check in with me anyway today. I didn't realize that even my vehicle without my being in it made me susceptible to PO questions. It's okay, though, cause I really needed to talk to my PO!

Well, it's really good that I went in, because my PO still didn't have the answers about my restitution payments. That's okay, though, I'm just going to start making the payments to the original court - by check. I hate not being able to make the payment electronically. I like a better paper trail! I've also made the decision to make an initial payment out of the school grant I received. It's technically not income, but my PO never got a response from the court and I don't want to make a wrong move. I'll do whatever it takes to be truly free. I'll be paying on my restitution for a long time, but I want to be off supervision. I just don't want to ever get too comfortable with my life and somehow forget that I need to be doing something or that I have rules to follow and must report in and must pay my restitution on time.

It's actually quite easy to get caught up on normality and almost forget that I can't just jump in my car and drive somewhere or that I can never travel to Canada again or that I have no passport or that I can't just take an Amtrak or buy a plane ticket. My life is monitored. And, it appeared, my car is monitored. I'm at home, comfortably sitting on my couch, writing this blog post, but my life is still under surveillance to a point. I suppose in some ways it will always be - at least until I can actually finish supervision and finish paying off my restitution. Somehow, I will find a day when I am totally free again. Perhaps it won't matter one day. I don't know. I just can't forget that right now, I better keep taking the initiative and check in with my PO from time to time.

Weekend Failure

I'm not sure I should call my weekend a failure. I crossed many things off my to-do list. I've been excitedly planning for my weekend away with a group of my close friends next week - fun shopping included. I've made my third, yes third, assignment listing for the semester (I think this one I'm happy with). I wanted a listing that put together all my assignments from all my syllabi into one easy to read location. I utilized a groupon for a consignment store that was about to expire (very important) purchasing everything BUT the pants I need for the now cooler weather. I earned a free student professional license to a great survey software (SogoSurvey) that I had to jump through hoops to earn, but it was worth the time and effort to get the free professional license.

So, it wasn't a wasted weekend... but I did not cross off too many items on that new, updated, pretty assignment listing that I made. I just didn't have it in me to sit and read. It didn't help that Starbucks made a mistake with my chai order yesterday and instead of one Venti Chai Frappachino, I had that AND an Iced Chai Latte... that's a lot of caffeine for someone who doesn't do much caffeine like ever... I think I was a little too jumpy to be good at much of anything after I made the bad choice of drinking it all... I chose taste over health - go figure!

Speaking of health. I've made the choice to try an elimination diet after next weekend's binge fest with my friends. The elimination diet is meant to identify the foods that cause issues like allergies and other problems. People with chronic health issues, such as myself, have been able to find foods that cause increased inflammation, foods that increase their headaches, etc. After a month or so, I'll be able to identify the foods that seem to cause my system the biggest issues and try to develop a way to limit or eliminate those foods from my diet. Sporty and I bought a book (she's doing it too for other health reasons) and we are reading it chapter by chapter for the how to's and what not to do's. It's a big undertaking, but something I've been wanting to do for some time.

When I first got out of prison, I bought an orange juice at my not real halfway house. I almost immediately felt sick to my stomach. That made me wonder if I was having a reaction to the O.J. since I hadn't had it in so long, my body no longer was used to the juice. I haven't had any since. In that last several months, I've noticed that certain meals have had some similar reactions on me, but I don't quite know what foods are the culprits. So, best way to find out is to do this elimination diet. The reports say that after doing the elimination diet, I should feel really good, have better energy, and even lose a little weight (not a bad thing...). I'll keep you all informed about how it goes.

Maybe the elimination diet will also help me with my ADHD issues and I'll be able to concentrate a little more on my studies. While I did accomplish a lot this weekend, I really do want to put my studies first. I'm not worried. I don't have anything that must be done in the next two day or anything, but I also never want to feel as if I am behind either. We do not do homework in grad school --- we study and that is a thing that is done all week long, not just cramming before class. Well, tomorrow is another day and I will study, yes I will. Perhaps, I will lay off the caffeine before I even start the elimination diet too.

The Reality of Time

As I drove home from work today, I thought how much I looked forward to my G.A. meeting this evening and my weekend days ahead. While I'll spend much of the time studying, they will be slower days without feeling as rushed. This sense of "time" is so different than how it felt when I was incarcerated.

Of course there were weekdays and weekends, and there were days, weeks, months, etc. It is just that it all blended in to each other. Living it felt forever and looking back felt like it was no time at all. Now, a day feels like a day, and a week feels like a week. The idea of TGIF works because a weekend truly feels like a weekend.

Last night I had the honor of being able to talk with one of you, a reader of this blog, who is fearing that she may have to face this similar path I've gone down. It's so overwhelming to face it all - all those unknowns - and feel capable of getting through it okay. It comes right back to this issue of time. It's all just one day at a time. If we look at everything that is or may occur, it's a never ending tunnel of time and possibilities and fears. So, keep your focus on today and what you can do just for today. Tomorrow, you will do the same.

It may feel like forever, but for right now, enjoy your Fridays. Enjoy your weekends and your Tuesdays and your September and everything. Don't put yourself into your own prison prior to actually being put in one physically. Whether we have to go to prison or not will be decided at some point down the road, but for now, we have days to live.

Once we are incarcerated, time may have no real meaning. I think that's why we talk things like, "two days and a wake up," or say we are leaving in a month even though 50 days may separate us from when we leave (I.e. It's sept.1 but they leave oct. 24... They would say a month...). Time has no real meaning until you look back.

Here, in the outside world, time has meaning. So make the best of it. Make time for yourself and those you care about. I love that I can sense time in my life once again.

Analytics

Today I received a text from Cache with a screen picture from this blog. She texted, "I guess I'm 59,000..." Wow, 59,000 hits. It's amazing that somehow she happened to be the person that saw the number roll to that even 0-0-0. I remember before I left for Carswell, Cache and I couldn't believe that this site neared 5,000 hits; not it's close to 60,000 a year later.

I want to thank all of you who are daily or frequent readers who for whatever reason, choose to follow this blog and my daily life. It started, honestly, with friends, but through emails and comments I've made new friends and community with people from all over the U.S. and the World. I know that some of you discover this blog through prisontalk, others through loved ones at Carswell, I'm not sure how others have come across it, but I'm glad you've gotten something out of it and have stuck around.

Through google, I am able to see my analytics/statistics on who is reading this blog. Most of you are in the United States, but certainly not all. There are readers from throughout Europe, Russia, Ukraine, Canada, South America, and many other places. Lately, readership in New Zealand has gone up significantly.

Certain blogs also receive much higher readership than others. Some of my posts receive about 25-40 hits, while the average post receives about 60-80 hits. A rare post will receive over 100 hits, with some over 200 and a really rare one (like the first) with over 1,000 hits. I'm a statistics person, so I find all of this fascinating.

On the average day, this blog receives between 150-200 hits. I think that's pretty good for a blog about a random woman going to prison. I'm glad that so many people find something of interest within these posts. 

I write because I love writing, but I write this blog because of all of you and all the people I hope it can help with information, a laugh, empathy, compassion, and community. I am so grateful for every single person who chooses to read even one post on this blog and who tries to do something positive with what they read. 

Thank you all for getting me to 59,000. I do not see that number lightly. You all are part of the community that has supported me through the unknowns of my past year and I will never forget.

💜💜💜

DF Hazel

Reading the Research

I'm under an unbelievable crunch this week. In just three short days, I need to turn in my thesis topic, even though I just started my grad program 1 1/2 wks ago. I'm on a bit of an accelerated plan in order to attempt official entry into the jc doctorate program through their applications due this winter. My feminist theory class has me doing my thesis proposal as my paper for her course this semester. Nothing like taking the bull by the horns immediately.

In order to whiddle my many interests down to a research topic, I have been reading relevant existing research and searching available data archives. For the thesis, my goal is to answer my research question utilizing secondary data (or data that already exists for a different purpose) so that I can build upon it with my own research once I am in the multiple year doctoral program. This thesis' goal is to prove I can write, properly utilize research methods, interprets results appropriately, understand limitations, build an appropriate literature review, determine conclusions, and offer avenues for further studies. 

I've been playing with many ideas, but think I'm leaning toward a theory that focuses on early victimization of females and it's possible ties to future criminal activity. I'm specifically looking at connecting it to women and white collar crimes. From what I can tell, there has not been much research done connecting the theory to white collar crimes. I need to figure out, though, if I could somehow review PSI/PSR data in order to find the early victimization data to connect with the women convicted of the big three white collar crimes (embezzlement, fraud, forgery).

My hope is that after the thesis, I can take this all a step further and see if an addiction link is prevalent for white collar female offenders who were victimized and if that addiction preceded their white collar crime.

As I've been researching articles to find similar and informative studies, I've come across some interesting research. One actually quite bothered me as it said that white collar offenses were an effect of being in high standing and refusing to reach out for help - yet so many I know that committed these types of crimes had addictions, were of average standing in their communities, and were to the point of being physically/emotionally/ mentally unable to ask for help. That's a really different thing. So many studies have been done solely on men, and most not on people struggling with addiction. I hope to help fill in that gap.

From what I could initially find, there's only one large study that looked directly at the impact of gambling on white collar crime (all males). The study concluded that gambling increases in cities had no effect on white collar crimes. It's a fairly old study and perhaps it would be worthwhile to replicate it a decade or more later (now). There's a lot of articles about increases in crimes related to drug addiction.

I found only one journal article specific to women and white collar crime. The researchers found that women committed the crimes to feed their family and/or take care of loved ones. Well, those results certainly wouldn't fit most the white collar offenders I knew in Carswell. In fact, most the white collar offenders I knew, actually had no mens rea (criminal intent) at all when offending. They were the "fall gals" for bigger fish, addicted to drugs/alcohol/men/gambling, and/or abused, etc. Sure, there were certainly the desperate, there were also the intentional forgers and the greedy, but they were the rare ones. We all could tell who they were and usually they planned to walk out and go right back to their not so lawful ways. They are career criminals, like so many others. 

I'm curious about the others though. Those who never really saw themselves as making an active choice to commit a crime. Those who at some point lost the ability to make rational decisions or to be the intelligent, capable person they exude themselves to be to the world. If we can find out some insights into why they commit crime, then maybe we can find the alternatives we need for them from the same prisons as those that chose lives of crime.

Maybe my research can be a step in that direction.

Labor Day

So how does a graduate student spend Labor Day? At the library of course! The campus library was open for five hours today, which allowed me enough time to get lost among the stacks and find just two of the books I need for the semester. I ordered a couple from other libraries and will have to either rent or buy the rest. The textbook industry is big bussiness... Over $100 per book and a new edition every other year!

T.S. had to watch a 1940's film noire classic from the video collection at the library, so I had the rare privilege of being able to be there with her without being an adult "embarrassment" to a teenage undergrad. Ha. It actually turned out to be a nice afternoon. Pb&j sandwiches and all.

I start "officially" working this week. In a couple weeks, a real paycheck will be deposited into my account. 10% of my gross pay will start being paid toward my restitution. I will finally be on my path toward getting off supervised release. I feel as if I've been in a waiting pattern for the last three months, just holding onto HOPE and being allowed to circle the skies praying not to run out of fuel or crash. Now, I've finally landed and I'm able to start the real journey of life after prison.

I don't mind that I spent Labor Day working on school, because I was working and I'm so grateful to have all that I do right now!

Like, Really?

Sometimes when you are living a reality, you forget how strange it may appear to people outside that reality or even how odd it initially appeared to you when you first saw the behavior until it became normal to you as well. Let's consider fads like wearing leg warmers, crocs, even women working outside the home. 

In prison, there are many of those moments - they have softball teams here? People play pool in the rec? There's a nicely paved outdoor walking path? They have like 100 aerobic videos and only three television we can use to watch them on? If I want to keep Kosher, I better love sardines? A salad bar consists of iceberg lettuce? My 7am call out to see a doctor may result in my seeing the doctor at 3:30pm? I'm in a medical facility and have bad legs, but I have to stand for two hours twice a day to get my pain medications? I am not allowed to touch another inmates nor communicate with them post incarceration, but I can take a amateur picture with them in front of a professional backdrop that I can keep forever?

It's the last one that came up today. We have out of town guests and we were talking a little about my experiences down in Texas. Somehow the subject of pictures came up, so I decided to share the pictures I have of me with fellow inmate friends. The first thing our company said was, "they had a backdrop?!?!?" She was so shocked! Of course this surprised her. She hasn't seen it on Orange is the new Black yet...

I sometimes think that if they actually showed true reality on OITNB, people would say it was too made up. That's the thing about reality. It's often stranger than fiction. OITNB is loosely based on Kerman's experience, but by this point, loosely is an understatement. She was at a camp, OITNB is an FCI (closer to was Carswell is like). That's okay though, OITNB's TV show's intentions is to entertain, and that it does. 

The truth is that very little in prison is entertaining except those moments when the sarcastic part of you can look around and go, "really?!?!" I still laugh at some of the inconsistencies and insanity. One thing that made me laugh was our niece today, reminding me that it's not quite expected that at prison, we would be allowed to purchase tickets to take pics with our fellow felon friends in front of a fancy backdrop.

The 11th Hour

There have been moments this year when I started to question myself, especially lately, am I holding out for something that is just not meant to be. First, my judge tells me that my academic career should end, then my admission is revoked to my phd program after two successful years, then my readmission is put on what seems like an indefinite hold. I don't verbalized my fears, but what if the real answer is "no?" What if I am not officially admitted to the University, what then?

I never had a backup plan. I just kept listening to the messages being given to me - keep trying, be patient, maintain hope, assume it's going to happen, and no one questioned my actions when I did just that - not my PO, not my supervisor, not my new department. They just kept cheering me on - keep going!!! Well, okay, if you all believe in me, and I believe in me, then I'm going to just keep holding onto my belief in hope until I no longer am able to. With classes officially starting tomorrow, I drove home at 5pm having done my program orientation and a long meeting with my supervisor today, wondering if the every five minute check to see if I finally received an email saying my hold was lifted had been raised was too much. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to accept reality. Since mid July, I've been checking and rechecking my email constantly, being told it'll take a week, then ten days, then another week, then waiting til Tuesday, and now it had been another week. Time was ticking. 

5:52pm tonight by email:

"The hold on your application has been lifted and you are approved to continue your academic pursuit. 

My sincere best wishes.

....

Director of Admissions"

After I send a quick thank you, he replies back to me with, "Thank you for your patience, ... Have a success[ful] fall semester."

Let's be honest. I was anything BUT patient! It was 14 hours prior to their start of classes and I was officially admitted to the University. The biggest struggle was within myself, not the process of getting back in.

It's sad to know that many people would probably have never fought their way back into the University. Once their admission was revoked, they would have accepted it as a new dead end. I pray that people can learn from my experience that while I had many self-doubts along the way, perseverance, honesty, open-mindedness, flexibility, and hopefully some humility have helped me find my way back into a major University outside their traditional timeline, into a very competitive program, with a number of opportunities for a future that will not only allow me to pay my restitution, but to pay forward all the good done for me, and do public good for others throughout my life. 

Tomorrow I will officially sit in my first class as an official student of the University after my incarceration. I will never forget how many people went out of their way to help make this possible for me and I will do my best to make them all proud. Most of all, I will do the best I can to make myself proud. I do not have to be perfect, I just have to commit myself to this, work hard, follow through, and believe in myself. 

I am officially a student again at the 11th hour!

The Restitution Question

According to my judge's order, I must pay 10% of my gross income to my restitution. Since I had to report in about my "police interaction" last night (he'd already received notice and was glad I called because he was going to call me), I decided to ask a bunch of restitution related questions.

My P.O. has been doing this job a long time, like a lot of people I meet in the criminal process, yet somehow I always seem to have the unique circumstances, even though they really shouldn't be all that unique. I asked about whether a grant and a student loan will count as income in terms of having to pay 10% toward my restitution. I was not complaining about having to do so, but I do worry that those funds have specific educational purposes and putting them (even 10%) toward a personal debt may be outside the guidelines of the grant/ loan. Also, on federal taxes, they are not forms of taxable income. I'm not sure if that matters. My P.O. will get back to me on that. It's not my plan to actually take out much in loans, mostly I am eligible for a grant that I'd like to receive and I may need just enough loans to help with textbooks, student fees not covered by my graduate assistantship, and a little bit of support to catch up since I've been unemployed since I've been home and since I was never officially made a student, my employer could never pay me that donation made on my behalf this summer - because I'm not in the University system. I told my supervisor to deposit the funds into my school year stipend account. At least sharing household expenses with Sporty really cuts my bills big time!!

Another question I had is whether any of the restitution payments I made while at Carswell are showing on my file. The entire time I was locked up, not one monthly payment actually showed up as paid, even though the funds were withdrawn from my account. I was told it's a slow processing issue. What else is new? My PO didn't know.

I asked where my restitution is going and where I should be sending it. It's another question my PO couldn't answer. I guess it was a confusing morning for him with all these very difficult questions before 9am. I knew it was a miracle he answered his phone. He never answers his phone. 

The phone call ended and from the conversation I learned that my PO was glad I wasn't out selling anything illegal last night when I had met up with the cops. NOPE. That I knew slightly more about my restitution situation than my PO. That apparently no one else ever asks their PO a question prior to 9 am.

Where this leaves me? I'm attending the department of criminal justice's graduate student orientation tomorrow. I still have a hold on my admission, although I now know that even the dean of the grad school, the same one that revoked my admission last year, signed for my admission this year. It's waiting for one last signature. I have no access to any University systems, libraries, parking permits, etcetera because I'm not an official student. I'm working my 20 hr per week graduate assistantship, only I can't be officially hired because I'm not a student yet, and I'm earning no money and have none of the benefits. I'm eligible for a grant and student loans, but they can't be processed until I'm a student and then my PO will decide if I'll have to pay 10% of the financial aid to my restitution.

Truly, even my PO thinks this is all going to work out!

Sirens

I don't know about you, but I'm one of those drivers who hated when a police car is driving behind me. I may be doing everything right, but I will suddenly be nervous. Somehow I will just know that they will turn their lights on and I'll get pulled over. 99% of the time, they just turn away or pass my by, probably annoyed that I've slowed down too much. Ugh, a granny driver! It's that 1% of the time that scares me, though. I don't want a ticket. I never was one to do well with police interaction, but now that I'm on federal supervision and have a record, I'm especially nervous. We all hear stories.

I'm guessing you know what I'm leading up to here. We had a really long day today. T.S.' dorm room move-in is on its third day and finally the furniture is set where it is staying (I pray) but once that was set, we had to go shopping and, well, we were all pretty much exhausted. When we left the store around 9pm, I failed to turn on my headlights (I'm still not used to driving a vehicle that does not have lights that can stay on and automatically turn on/off) and about half way of the four miles home I realized it and flipped on the lights. That's exactly when the other lights (blue and red) were flipped on behind me as well. My first thought was, "I'm going to have to call my P.O. tomorrow morning and report this..." My goal is to stay under the radar, not have to report police interaction.

The rules are the rules, though. I listened to the officer inform me that my lights were off. I told him about not having my car for the past year, about why that was, how I'm not used to not having auto lights, how my parents had been taking care of the car, etc. Be humble. Be honest. 

A few minutes later the police officer returned to my vehicle and did not write me a ticket. He believed me story. It was the truth. Always best to just say the a truth. I'm glad I spoke my truth, there's a lot in his car computer that he can gain access to that even I don't know, so I'm never going to try to outsmart a cop. 

I still have to contact my P.O. tomorrow. I will likely only get his message machine. He will write some comments in my file. It shouldn't leave to bad a mark as long as I continue to do what is expected of me. I hate to admit though, I think I will now be a bit more scared of those officers driving behind me for now on.

The Truth of Fellowship

One of many words I had no real meaning for prior to six years ago was "fellowship." I'd known of community, but now that I know of fellowship, I see how much deeper it goes than community. One of the great gifts of being in a recovery program is the fellowship we share, especially as we build stronger relationships and personal connections within our meetings.

I was fortunate to have the opportunity to experience the great blessing of incredible fellowship today with new and old friends - including some I haven't seen for quite a while. The day brought laughter, tears, hugs, smiling, sharing, helping, and even some drawing. I hold onto energy from days like today to help me get through tough days, remembering that many people are still struggling with this insideous illness losing everything, and that through GA, I have some very close friends.

I think people are able to find fellowship in places outside of recovery rooms and events. Many religious institutions organize around concepts of fellowship. I think a true fellowship must have some open form of communication about a specific topic.

In the end, today,I chose to give my phone number to two people needing a female person to help them with initial ga program question and two people who want to attend our new meeting. Most important to me, though, was that hug. The hug by my ga friend who wasn't quite sure if she would see me this morning. Feeling the reaction of her body while we hugged and knowing that those were real tears of happiness to see me, is the real fellowship that has kept me knowing prior to, during, and now after prison, that I am never alone and the very real value of fellowship!

Step 7

"7. Humbly asked God (of our understanding) to remove our shortcomings."

Step seven in gamblers anonymous (and most 12 step programs) reminds us that we are not necessarily able to remove all our personality and emotional defects on our own. They are a part of us, some we may not even know exist or we may not know how to describe, but they pain us or others and add difficulty to our lives. Our goal is to tackle such shortcomings one at a time and find healthier ways of thinking and living.

I must admit, I'm being tested on my ability to "let go," "have patience," "accept what seems unlikely," and just release it all to my higher power. I am one resolved to do just that. For six years doing so has never steered me wrong and I know, really know, that this time will be no different.

I'm obviously talking about the University. I'm obviously admitting that I did not hear anything today. Friday's workday came and went and I did not hear a peep about the hold on my registration and enrollment. 

This is what I must do. The department of criminal justice told me to assume that the hold will be lifted and to attend orientation Tuesday and my class Wednesday. My boss has me working, with no pay, my fall hours, assuming the same hold is being lifted. Everyone is just moving forward being positive, and doing their part.

I shall continue to do the same. I spent so much time looking to see if I had a new email today, that Sporty and T.S. Did me a favor and took my phone from me for an hour. I'm glad I had to have that anxiety break. Nothing will change this weekend, so that's another 48 hour break. Truth is, it doesn't even matter if news comes Monday or Tuesday, now, because I'm already attending class next week no matter what. 

I'm just going for it. That's what all the messages are telling me to do. I may be the crazy woman who can't even take a library book out because she's on hold in the system, but I'm going back to school next week. I think I'll start listening to the messages I'm receiving and not all the self defeating talk in my head. (Note to self - ask God to remove self defeating talk from my head when able...).

Do You Really Want to be My Friend?

One of the first things I did when I was released from prison was clear out most of my Facebook "friends." If I haven't seen, spoken to, or written to you in a couple of years, are you really someone that needs to know everything about who I know's head got recently covered in ice water? I kept my close friends, my family, my recovery friends, anyone who wrote or supported me in any way while I was in Texas, and University friends that I knew were caring despite all the gossip and drama. I no longer cared how many Facebook friends I had, just that I knew that whatever I posted I didn't have to worry about who was on the receiving end. My privacy settings are high, but I can't and won't control what others do with the information they receive from me. It's okay though, I'm not ashamed of my life.

Every couple days, though, I receive a friend request. It's either from someone I had unfriended due to my uncertainty of their support, or we weren't friends prior to my incarceration. I look at the request sometimes and for a split second and wonder "why," why are they reaching out to me. Truth is, most of them know nothing of where I've been for the past year. Some didn't even notice we weren't Facebook friends until they saw me post on another friend's message. It really doesn't matter. They are reaching out to me, wanting to reconnect.

I made the decision tonight to go ahead and just accept the friend request and to send them private messages saying that they should check out this blog so they know what I've been up to and ask questions in they have any. I've done that so far like four times when people have friended me and I'm pleased to share that they have all been incredibly supportive. I'm so amazed by the open mindedness of the vast majority of people I meet.

According to prison time, I am three days and a wake up from my new department's orientation, and four and a wake up from my first class. I still have a hold on my enrollment and registration. The secretary at the department wrote to me that I should move forward on the "assumption" that the hold will be lifted. I decided to order a couple of the books from Amazon today. I can return them if I have to. Or maybe that open mindedness  did spread to the University and I will be officially a student once again in just a few days, adding more people to my Facebook friends list.

Back to School

Now don't get excited, I did not get any news. The title is referring to T.S., not myself. When T.S. chose my University among those she was accepted to, I was thrilled. I knew I would have the responsibility and honor of helping her purchase things for her dorm room and freshman year, make big decisions, and support her through difficult times. I'd promised her a meal off-campus now and then, some laundry assistance, a bathtub when she wanted it, and a listening ear always. So many promises before I learned I would be going to prison, and worst still, have to self-surrender before she even moved onto campus.

Sporty is a great mom and did everything for T.S., but I hated not being there for both of them - the ins and outs of college life, especially at my University, is really an area they lean on me for. I did what I could from Texas - through phone, trulinks, and mail, but I was absent and failed in every one of my freshman year promises to someone who did not deserve to be let down by me.

Being back now gives me the pleasure of a second chance. T.S. may be going into her sophomore year, but she happily still seeks parental type guidance and support. She selected to live on campus for another year, so I get the opportunity to help with the dorm room this time. I already made her happy with one success. She and her roommate really wanted to buy a Capet for the room. The school sells a cheap one for $175 that fits the room. I took T.S. to a carpet store and she bought a remnant of a carpet the same size, worth over $300, for $120. It's softer, fuller, she saved money, and she had no idea remnants existed. Ah, it felt good to help. Unfortunately, the 12x11 carpet is rolled and laying in our entryway all the way to our kitchen until we can move it into the residence hall Friday, which makes our home currently look worse than a dorm room. Superdog can't quite figure out if she should walk over it or if she needs to walk all the way around it to get to the door to be let out.

Other things we are doing is look for a bike (her bike last year was stolen), obviously a better bike lock, buy school supplies (which totally geek me out), pack, organize, shop for some clothes (everyone wants back to school clothes), and talk through ideas. I'm with her every step of the way. 

We are working the same schedule this week, so we spend the rest of the day together, running errands, talking, listening to music, walking here and there, and eating too much. It's perfect and this has been a week I'm so grateful to have with T.S. I told her that I'll probably have empty nest syndrome next week and when she's at school. I'll see her probably weekly or often enough (we will be on the same campus), but it won't be the same. She's an adult, she's already grown up so much in the past year. I have had such an amazing two months spending time with her at home and seeing the maturity first hand. 

It's been an honor to have had T.S. allow me to act as a co/step parent in her life. It has always been up to her and she chose to let me in. Perhaps I healed a part of her and I know she healed a big part of me. Everyday I spend time with her, I am in awe of her individuality, intelligence, maturity, wisdom, creativity, selflessness, and humanity. I can't wait to see what she is like in five years, ten, twenty. In the mean time, I'm just excited to be helping her prepare to go back to school.

One Year

Today marks the one year anniversary of the day I self-surrendered to FMC Carswell. Every moment of the day is still so vivid in my mind. There were so many new sights, sounds, smells, people, touches, clothes, and rules. Nothing in the world prepares you for that first day.

I knew from the beginning that I was not alone. Survivor just dropped me off and I knew that she and my other close friends were all thinking about me and some even shedding tears. My letter writing started immediately. As did my connections with new friends - South, Chi, Freckles, Appeal, Danbury, Lola, Mama, Nurse, Glitter, Curls, Army, Bandana, Braids, Ark, Cali, Taz, Red, Bunkie, Longwinded, Mexi, and many more! Friends and family were a lifeline throughout the last year and I thank every person who has said a kind word, shared a laugh with me, sent me a letter/card/book, tweeted me, Facebook messaged me, sent emails, or prayed for me. While incarcerated and after, my heart has been truly filled with awe at all the love and support I've received. Thank you!!!

I guess, if I lost good time, today would actually be the day I would exit prison. Yesterday would've been 365 days and today was the +1. As the goody two shoes I am, I didn't visit the SHU and lost no good time, so I didn't have to truly max out (I knew of very few who ever did). However, I guess that's another reason this date - Aug 19th is significant (I have 3 min to finish this blog post and upload before the date turns to the 20th -  not going to happen - but know I started on the 19th!!!)

Three years ago, on August 19th, I also started a private blog with one of my best friends and I just realized it today, when the site we used (we stopped posting about 1 1/2 years ago), sent me a your blog turned 3 today email. It appears that August 19th may be a very significant date for me.

Okay, I got my hopes up. I did what I always say DON'T DO! I built expectations and assumptions around today. This morning I put on Facebook that my life would "change" today... All because I believed that today is the day I would hear back from admissions and my hold would be lifted. This belief did not come out of nowhere, mind you. I had some decent clues.

Last week, my supervisor at work received a call from admissions telling her that the application is back at admissions and is now waiting on one more signature from someone who will be back in the office on Tuesday (TODAY - the 19th). I was told by an assistant dean in the grad school that I should hear at the early part of this week. Well, after today, it's the "mid" part of the week... So, you get my drift. I'm doing my best to have patience, but people first told me I'd hear two weeks ago, then last Wednesday, and then Today. 

Did I hear today? Well, I did talk with admissions today. The final person was on vacation and just got back. They are not sure when he will get to my file. That's where it was left. School starts in a week and my job should have started this week. Ce la vie for the life of a felon!

So August 19th resulted in more time volunteer working at my future campus job, spending time with T.S., working out to Jillian Michaels, watching the "American President," and being a plain, good, fine, ordinary day.

If I Could Choose

While I'm not technically on "welfare" because I do not have kids, I am on several forms of government assistance - Medicaid and Food Stamps. I have no idea the cost on the taxpayers to support me month to month for these two items, but I thank every one of you for helping me survive as I rebuild my life. 

Truth is, the taxpayers were paying my room, board, medical care, security, maintenance, education, clothing, and every other expense I had while I was in Carswell. So, I suppose I'm becoming less of a burden on the taxpayers. Unfortunately, there are a lot, I mean a lot, of people in my same shoes who are forced to live on the governments dime. So many people talk about how people take "advantage" of the system. All I see are people who will do anything to get off the system.

I for one am eating far better than I would on a grad student's stipend and getting just as good, if not better, healthcare for free than I was on my prior insurance. However, I cannot wait for the day that I can call the government assistance office and inform them that I will no longer need Medicaid or food stamps. I would rather struggle to make ends meet, but stay on my budget and do my best, than have to keep living off the government when I do not have to.

It is very unfortunate that so many ex-felons are unable to find work and are forced to rely on government assistance. I'm so grateful the safety net exists for us. For everyone. I've known a lot of people who have been on unemployment, Medicaid, food stamps, cash assistance, childcare subsidies, and many other government funded programs. Without these opportunities, so many families and individuals would struggle even more than what happens now. Whether a felon, a low income worker, a displaced worker, someone retired, a teenage parent, a single parent, a foster parent, whomever you are, these programs exist to help. I will never forget these months of assistance I received and like so many other things over the last several years, I will pay it all forward as I am able.

Memories More Than Things

I've always been a believer in the idea that giving memories is more important than giving things. With people though, we like the things, the tangible. On birthdays and holidays, we like the act of unwrapping something. Objects - the more the merrier, especially when we are young. How many broken McDonalds' toys does every parent have sitting around their house because their child HAD to have it? Truth is, adults are rarely better, we want, want, want what we see in ads and windows. Things just are fun and somehow our lives would be better if we had more things.

It was when I was a late teen, and my best friend Art and I decided to take long road trips for our winter breaks, that I truly realized that it's the memories, not the things that last and make our lives better. For four weeks one year, and five weeks the next, we traveled nearly every continental state and experienced beauty, crime, horseback riding, late nights, city life, rural landscapes, perfect sunsets, trolley rides, long walks, running out of gas, getting lost (before gps), strange people, all kinds of humor, visiting relatives, making new friends, getting sunburnt, freezing noses, crossing the Canadian border, hopping over to Mexico, sailing, camping, sleeping in the car, sleeping in nice hotels, sleeping in roach motels, and filling pages of diaries and photo books of interesting people, places and things. I do not remember most of the things I was given over my lifetime, but I certainly remember almost every aspect of those two trips and other memory makers I've done over my life.

For the last week, T.S.'s little sister has been visiting us and we've done all sorts of things. She lives in a very urban environment and before she went back home today, I wanted to give her a memory of an experience she never can have where she currently lives. She has talked about wanting to do it before, but usually expense is a large factor. However, I woke up this morning and something told me to just look it up for this area. Being in a more rural area, I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, but it was very affordable to give her the experience. We surprised her this morning with the opportunity to go horseback riding. She's nine years old and old enough to remember the first time she went, and she will always remember that she went with T.S. and how old she was, etc. We gave her a memory!

Over the last week, she received some rollerblades and a bike as well (thank you Craig's list) and she loves them both and used them a lot. However, something tells me that when she is older, it's not the things she received this trip that she will remember, it is the experiences. I'm so happy I was able to provide her with a life experience today!

Chicken Tortilla Soup from Scratch

Prior to incarceration, I wouldn't have attempted it. I'm not a cook. Whenever I wanted to help in the kitchen as a child, I was shooed away. Later in life, nothing was ever made except what went in the microwave. I always enjoyed home cooked meals, but doubted my own abilities. Since being home, I've branched out and tried and failed a few times - never ask me to make those puffy Thai noodles unless you want me to burn down the house! But, I've also had some successes! One of those is a wonderful chicken tortilla soup recipe!

It's healthy, has a kick to it, and tastes darn good! I'm proud of myself for learning the recipe, doing a little experimenting, and having decent success with it more than once. It's gonna be a staple food in my life for a while, I can tell!

It's an example that it's really never too late to learn something new. I don't ever think cooking will necessarily come easy to me, but I can never again say that "I can't cook," and Carswell actually taught me that. Carswell also taught me the real value of happiness. Even in my bad days since being home, I've been happy. How could I not be? Life is soooo good! I have everything I need and more! I am allowed to have choice, to think, to dream, to open a door and step outside, to smell fresh air whenever I want to, to ride a bus, to walk a dog, to sleep past six, to wear jeans, to own twenty pairs of shoes if I want to, to use the Internet, to reach out to friends anytime, to eat when I'm hungry, to sleep when I'm tired, to hug anyone I want to, ... What's not to love and be happy about? I can cook in a pot, on a stove, with fresh water, with real chicken, fresh vegetables, and savory spices. I can add any kind of cheese I want, and even sour cream - real sour cream. My mayo is refrigerated, so is my lunch meat and salad dressings.

Sure, about 2 1/2 months, I should be fully acclimated to life on the outside again. I think I pretty much am. My driving is what it always was. My technology geekiness is back full swing, I enjoy wearing a full range of colors and shoes. I spend time with family and friends like no time has past. 

It's different now, though. I know it, and they know it. It's subtle in some ways and not so subtle in others. I have stories of prison life that are now just a part of me. Some are curious, some don't want to hear them. I don't separate myself from any of my experiences. I'm genuinely more content - for better or worse. I'm also willing to try new things - like cook a new recipe... Even if it results in the smoke alarm beeping a few dozen times. Hey, I'm used to that, we had fire drills constantly at Carswell!!!

Couponing

I don't know if it got ten times worse while I was in prison, but the web and app stores seem packed with coupon and discount sites. There's ibotta, retail me not, cartwheel, groupon, store apps like Walmart/ target/ jc penny/ walgreens/ best buy and others that offers discounts and so, so, so many more. As I drive by or walk near a store, my phone literally lights up with offers for the stores I'm near. Yep, I'm still 'choosing' to be tracked.

I'm on an incredibly tight budget with no real income right now, so these discounts and coupons are a necessity of life. Often, I'm using a 15% off on top of a sale item to get even more off. At Target, I can use thier "Cartwheel" application discounts on top of the 5% off red card discounts. Everything helps, even when purchasing toilet paper or deodorant.

Don't pay full price for gasoline, I have a store card for 5 cents off a gallon. Need an oil change, here's $15 off. Want to eat out, groupon has many options, so does several coupon sites. I can get double up coupons at the farmers market - spend $10 in food stamps on fruits and vegetables, get $10 more. Need those shoes? I'll figure out where we can buy them for the least expense, plus get a discount on top of that. There's a way to get a discount on our cellular service. Let's get this discounted Internet service. Don't ring that up yet, I think I have a coupon!!

Since coming home, my life has been filled with a lot of electronic coupons and discount codes. Some are scannable, some I have to print, some I read to them aloud. 90% work. Even I am often surprised. I've even gotten free things, like ice cream, beverages, museum entries, movie tickets, and more using these coupon sites. 

This world is filled with great deals, but it's not always easy to find them. I'm lucky I have access to a smartphone that allows me to take advantage of so many deals. Many people in similar economic situations would not and therefore only those who could afford to pay more have the opportunity to pay less. Kind of backwards, right? It's making me think about the importance of getting technology access to those who are the most disenfranchised in our communities - including mobile access. Think about all the ways you use your mobile devices. Imagine if you could not have that access in today's world. For one thing, you would not be able to take advantage of all the great discounts available for the things your daily essentials.