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:

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...

From Dragonfly: Shiny Happy People...

How do you make about 20 inmates excited, cheering, high 5ing, hugging, and crying tears of joy all at the same time? This is not intended as a joke... you inform them that the U.S. Sentencing Commission unanimously passed the new sentencing guidelines to take non-violent drug mandatory minimums down two points. This is what I announced yesterday evening, and that was the response of almost everyone around me.

The mandatory minimums for drug crimes have overfilled our prisons with sentences of five, ten, twenty, and even lifetime sentences. People who have never held a gun, never hit another person, are behind bars (and away from their children) for decades. Many people with drug-related crimes can receive sentences higher than murderers, sex offenders, or other violent crimes. This has been going on for many, many years. In my experience in this prison, nearly half the people I meet here are for a drug-related (conspiracy) charge.

When I announced that the new law passed (Congress could still act on it, but it is not expected) and will go into effect in November, with retro-activity, nearly everyone near me was here under one of those mandatory minimums. The amount of time off their sentences varies greatly, but generally they are looking at years off their original sentence. Some will be eligible for release the minute the law goes into effect, others will still have some time to serve, but the end is much closer. One inmate, standing near me, said, "That means I have only 14 months left... seven months once the law goes into effect. After six years of being here, I will go home next year!" She looked a little in shock and everyone around her gave her a high-five.

Another inmate announced that she will be eligible for immediate release. She received hugs. The thing is, I'm not quite sure there will be any "immediate releases." Imagine the paperwork that will need to be completed by every federal prison in the U.S. for each of the inmates who will be eligible for the reduction. Even if the computer system automatically reduces everyone's sentence, the case managers will need to prepare for each person's release - halfway house, home confinement, or straight home. Each inmate will have to go through all those hoops (especially in a medical facility like this one), to ensure they are medically able to leave. As of right now, no processes, no regulations, are yet written on this tremendous news. People will still need to have patience to see what will happen and the timing of everything.

It's easy for me to just write all that, the law does not affect me. I am a fraud case, a sentencing topic that the commission is also considering a 2-point reduction on, but has not taken action yet. Also, I will already be home when this law goes into affect. For others, this law will allow them to move forward in their lives, hold and hug their babies, and live without a fence blocking them from the rest of the world sooner than they imagine. I was very happy that I was the person who was able to deliver the news. I usually don't just make announcements, but this was news I was not going to keep to myself.

From Dragonfly: Seeing Improvement

Region has been here for the week. I don't know what was said, but there's already some improvement that we are seeing. For example, a bunch of people were called to pack-out, and they are going to the camp across the street. Like me, these folks had been waiting, waiting, waiting... only, they were not denied due to medication like I was. We've seen four people from my unit and several from others heading to R&D to get processed and change their Khakis to Greens.

The food has been better this week as well (although, they appear to have run out of butter). They are following the menu and things are even tasty - like the soup I had two nights ago was the first time I could stomache their soup. My pork chop last night was really over-cooked, though, so some improvement is still required.

Tuesday, at sick call, a person from region sat in the corner. He saw how the papers were picked up at 6:15, but no one was seen until after 7. He questioned them, openly, and low and behold, everyone was seen by 10:30am. No 5 hour waits! People have been talking with the regional people about transfers, medical levels, halfway house denials, lack of accessibility, and more. They've gotten an earful. I imagine this happens at every institution, but we certainly had a lot to share that are probably unique to this one.

There's no way of knowing what will and will not change in the long term. Running a place this large, with so much turn-over, cannot be easy. I certainly would not want the job. I would say, straight out, that putting all these folks together would not work. The medical staff is overwhelmed, the lack of separation of security levels is cause for concern, and the inability to have anyone's papers processed timely borders on cruel. People are forced to stay incarcerated because they have yet to see a doctor, decisions are made based on paper notes and nothing actual medical, and people are not given straight forward answers on what and why. It's certainly troubling.

I know that I will be gone soon enough, but I hope that things do get better. There are good women here, and they deserve to be treated thoroughly and respectfully. A woman with a single lung should not have to live up 24 stairs. A woman shouldn't have to threaten, "take me to the hospital or take me to the SHU" because she absolutely knew something real was wrong... she went to the hospital and died there. A woman should not have to walk around with legs as blown up as tree trunks with no idea of what to do or how to get any relief. A woman should not have to wait months for her first doctor's appointment, when she was sent to a medical facility. A woman should not have to wait in line for hours to obtain pain medication for pain made worse by waiting in line for hours. A woman in a wheel chair should not have to do "extra duty" because her roommate did not clean her own bed area well. A woman should not have to urinate on herself because she was not given access to the elevator to use the bathroom for over an hour and a half. Her friends having to carry her up the stairs so she could then clean herself off in the shower. There are a lot of things people shouldn't have to do, even in prison. People deserve their dignity. So, improvement is really necessary.

I'm glad to see the improvements. I hope they continue and that the staff here are learning about ideas that are economical and, yet, necessary. Prison is not supposed to be comfortable or friendly, but it should provide the most essential things to every person behind the fence. I thank region for spending the week here. I know that a lot of people are excited about what they learned when talking with some of them at main line. Maybe, just maybe, that is why we are starting to see these improvements.

From Dragonfly: The Sounds of the Morning

Around 5:40 every morning, a mass amount of the nearly 300 women in my unit are awake and the sounds start. This morning, while stretching and after reading my daily meditation/serenity reader, I closed my eyes and just listened. This is what I heard between 5:45 and 6:05am.

The constant hummmmmmmm of the ice machine.
"Hey, can you grab my sweatshirt?"
Bang, bang, bang, boots going down the metal staircase.
Screech, someone pulling a plastic chair on the concrete.
Click, click, click, click, as people unstack plastic chairs to sit and wait on.
Chatter - can't make out the words as people wait near the front doors.
Swish - every toilet flush can be heard.
"R____!!!!" "R_____!!!" (calling someone's name).
Bing, bing, bing - an alarm clock going off
Bang, bang, bang, someone coming up the metal staircase.
Click, click, click, more chairs.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, two people going down the metal staircase.
"Hey, can you grab my mp3 player off the charger and bring it to me?"
SSSSSSSS, a new shower is turned on.
Flush.
Bang, bang, bang.
Pound, pound, metal on metal as someone empties their trash can into the larger receptacle.
Swoop, swoop, someone getting ice out of the ice machine.
Ice machine goes quiet for a moment.
Flutter, flutter - a new sound, pigeons in a fight on the small landing outside my window.
Flush.
Bing, bing, bing, bing, bing, bing, bing.
"Turn off that damn alarm!"
Bing, bing, bing, bing.
Sssssss.
Kaboom! The ice machine released a huge amount of ice.
Swoop, swoop.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter.
"Hey, S_____, going to breakfast??"
Flush.
Pound, pound, pound.
Flush.
Ssssssss.
Sweep, sweep, sweep, someone near my room is sweeping their floor.
Flutter, flutter - the birds are at it again.
Chatter, chatter, chatter.
Hhhhhhmmmmmmm - the ice machine pops on again with it's constant Hmmmmmmm.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Swoop, swoop, swoop.
Sssssssss.
Flush.
Laughter.
Click, click.
ZZZZZzzzzzzz - a hairdryer is turned on.
Hhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm.
Chatter, chatter, chatter.
"Are you awake??"
Laughter.
Squeek - a desk stool that needs oiling.
Chatter, chatter.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Bang, bang, bang, bang.
Flush.
Ssssssss.
Swoop. Swoop.
Pound, pound.
Sweep, sweep, sweep.
"Hey, can you grab the dust pan??"
Chatter.
"Good morning everyone."
Screech.
Click, click.
"Hello."
Ring. Ring. The guards keys hitting each other.
Bang, bang, bang.
Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Hhhhhmmmmmmmm.
Squeek.
Pound, pound, pound, pound.
Flush.
Flush.
Click. click.
Swoop.
"Ugh." - someone screams as all the lights are turned on.
Chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter.
Pound.
Flush.
"Ah, choo."
"God bless you!!!"
Screech.
Chatter, chatter, chatter.
bing, bing, bing, bing, bing.
Flush.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Pound, pound, pound.
"Shit, I forgot my i.d."
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Flush.
Pound.
Sweep, sweep.
"Hospital food service is now open, hospital food service is now open..." over the intercom.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.
Clack, clack, clack - a person on a cane walking to the door.
Vvvvvvvvvvvv - women dragging their walkers.
Vvvvvvvvvv.
Bang, bang, bang.
Clack, clack, clack.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom - chairs being restacked.
Clack, clack, clack.
Vvvvvvv.
Screech.
Bang, bang, bang.
"You coming?"
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Flush.
Click, click.
"Wait up!"
Zzzzzzzzzzzzz
Bang, bang, bang.
Boom, boom, boom.

Well, I think you get the idea. These sounds will now continue until after 11:30pm tonight. Welcome to the sounds of Carswell.

From Dragonfly: Just Three More Hoops, I Hope

My plan to obtain insurance was accepted by social work and she sent the plan, along with her "verification" message to all the appropriate parties. I tried to talk with the woman responsible for finishing my exit paperwork, but she was not in her office, so that is hoop #1 tomorrow - to get her to officially complete the exit summary and upload it to my computerized file.

Tomorrow's hoop #2, will be to see my case worker, for the forth time this week, at 2pm tomorrow. If the exit paperwork is in the system, she will complete the paperwork necessary to send to my region for processing. Once that is mailed, it's a waiting period of up to 60 days to hear back.

That's hoop #3, region "accepting" the plan and approving me to go to home confinement in May. They could still decline me due to my health condition or if they don't believe my resources will allow me to be taken care of financially/medically. I pray that the research we did in the last 24 hours will help them feel okay about the plan. Even someone I know, recently went to the ACA website for health care and were qualified for a $400/month policy for only $65/month based on family income. Even if that were my monthly fee, that's affordable - exactly what the affordable healthcare act was meant to happen - help those who are unable to afford health care coverage, to receive it at an affordable rate.

So, if this paperwork is sent off this week, there is a chance that I will be able to go home on my home confinement date of May 28th. There's no possibility of it being sooner, as there is simply not enough time and there are procedures on how much home confinement someone can receive. If I'm okayed, but it takes too long for the process, I could be going home in June. Of course, there's the absolute end date of July 2nd if all else fails. I have a lot of hope for the 28th, though. That's just over 2 months and something for me to really look forward to - an out date that will put me home just after my parents' anniversaries (both sets of parents have the same anniversary - long story) and I will be able to start my process of getting back on my feet that much earlier. I can't wait to start my future - one day at a time.

So, there are LOTS of us facing this same number of hoops in order to be released from here as a care level 3. I have had soooo many people come up to me and ask about my process so that they know the next step for themselves. Due to my experience, I watched one woman jump about three of the initial hoops just today - she went to social work, she talked with the person responsible for the paperwork and she went to team to get the official paperwork request. All these things could take weeks/months if you don't know the process.

Therefore, I decided to sit down and write the full process of trying to be eligible for community programs (halfway house/home confinement) for people who are a Care Level 3 at Carswell. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote - 6 pages worth of steps and information for everyone to consider. They can now look at it and start their process 17-19 months out, or if they are here shorter, the day they arrive. It's a guide to all of this and it took me only an hour to write it all out. I showed it to Appeal, because she, too, receives a lot of questions from folks. She read through it, loved it, and offered to type it up for me so we can make copies. That's awesome. I'll share what I wrote here, once I get it back from her. It lays out everything, including all the ways we can have to max out, if we are not approved at each hurdle. I hope that the information I am providing to folks will get more women out of here earlier, and closer to their spouses, children, grandchildren, and their life after incarceration. Perhaps, long after I am gone, that document will still exist and women for a long time will not have to learn the process as they go, like I did, but will be given the tools to advocate for themselves from day 1.

A January Letter Tells All to Survivor

As done earlier in this blog - I am posting a letters that was written during my time of incarceration. The following is the explanation posted on 9/13/13 in the first letter posting:

"In a later post - after I am home - I state that I will post some of my letters home on the date that they were written. I post everything from the letter except for things that are personal about the person I am writing that is not relevant to the experience of myself or prison. In the letters I may not have used their pseudonyms - however that is changed for the purpose to keep this blog consistent and to keep everyone anonymous as always. Other than those few changes for the purposes of consistency and anonymity, everything listed here is exactly as it it written in the letter - including how I used shorthand or symbols. Some things may be similar to what I write in prior/later blogs. Other things I may not have written at the time on the blog because I knew it was being monitored. I take photos of any images and include that as well."

1/27/14

Survivor -

I haven't been writing letters much. It's a failure of my emotions and my hand. It hurts when I write a lot. Also, I always write less when I most need to write - when my emotions are in overdrive. It's so much easier to write when I'm fine and I can just observe everything around me. It's much more difficult when my thoughts are lost in my head, my senses on overdrive, and I can't exactly put words to what I'm feeling. That has been the case for sometime now.

I am honestly okay. I will survive this and I will be stronger for it. In fact, this place helped me find my creative side again and I hope it lasts - not just crafts or writing Hazel - but I wrote a play in my head a couple days ago - that hasn't happened since I was a teen. In many ways I am inspired in new ways, although I am not giving up on my old goals.

I am going to fight my way back into [my University]. I know it's not the end of the world if I don't receive my PhD, but I've worked too hard and am too determined not to keep moving forward. If I give up now, I'm a victim, but if I hold my head up high and reach my goal, I can be living proof of moving forward, succeeding when others want you to fail, and following healthy ways of living.

We can either wear our addictions, recovery, and convictions as chains or they can be scars - always there, but forever healing and fading. My life just got a little more interesting, that's all.

My visit with my folks was alright. it's the first time someone left and I cried. I want to be able to be there for my folks, my grandparents. The stress on my mom is highly noticeable. The reality of visiting me here showed on their faces. [My step dad] was brought to silence, my mom to shock.

I am currently in the "lab." I was on a call-out to have blood pulled today. I'm supposed to be tested every 1-2 months, but this is the first time since early October. I'm very curious what the results will show. I had to send cop-outs (requests) to get them to order the labs, saying, "please look at my paperwork and order appropriate labs..." But what I think officially got me in was my trip to the rheumatologist last week. She immediately asked why my labs are so old, I just looked at the C.O. with me. "I'm in prison", is my thought. So she ordered Carswell to do my labs. I pray everything looks good enough, so I can get medically cleared. Otherwise, I may be here until my out date in July :-(

I'm not upset to be missing work today. There are a lot of mean people there who decide to gang up against me and try to get me fired. It has nothing really to do with me, but I just take it all as it comes. I'll be out of here long before them.

I'm becoming quite the crafter. I can't sit and do nothing, so I always have a project going. My crochet is getting much better. My plastic canvas designs are a hit. Unfortunately, it's hurting my hand a lot. The way the rheumatologist talked about my condition is form of spondyloarthropathy that is mimicking rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, and fibromyalgia. Why can't anything with me be simple? My fatigue is super bad right now and I've had a cough for several weeks. I'm going to sick call this week.

Being at Carswell is truly a one of a kind experience. Throw away all the "how to survive prison" handbooks. They simply do not apply here. Also, it's b.s. that you walk out with no friends - all us white collar folks tend to find one another. It'd like people in G.A., people you never thought you'd make friends with, but in the end, we support one another through this. It's not like my relationship with you, or people on the outside, but it is real. [The officer we met the day before I surrendered] made many statements that day before my self-surrender, that are just not true. Even the people I room with show kindness and goodness at times.

I think Sporty is coming in for another weekend in March. She's been so good to me. She sent me pics of my new room and it looks very warm, cozy, and comforting. I can't wait to sleep in a real bed again - with enough blankets, a comfy pillow, and no alarm, count, or people yelling out, "dryer three." (that's the call to tell the person in Dryer 3 that their clothes will be removed from the dryer unless they immediately com e and remove them as it is time for the next person's clothes). I wash on Sunday's & Wednesdays. The laundry wars are fierce - how do 260+ women wash their clothes 2x each week in 45 min wash/dry cycles? Fights, yelling, stolen items, etc are all part of the daily routing in the laundry wars. I think A & E should pick it up as a new show.

I've not yet given up on going to the camp across the street. My doc just needs to sign off on it, but I've never seen my doc. I'm thinking I should have an appt within 2 weeks. Perhaps God wants me here to see South off. She leaves 2/10. I can't wait to introduce you two some day. You will love her!! We'll have to take a road trip some time to see her.

Well, move is about to open. Back to work for the rest of the morning.

Miss you tons - Love you more!

Dragonfly

From Dragonfly: Passivity

In my life, prior to recovery, I was very, very passive. Everyone who knew me, knew that I could stand up for others, but not myself. I was always concerned with what others thought of me - my entire self-esteem was built on reputation. I took it incredibly personal when someone was mean to me - and I allowed myself to be the victim of all types of abuse. In many ways, I believed I deserved it. This was in my "broken" sense of self, lost in addiction and victimization.

It took a couple years of recovery and counseling, but I learned to say, "no," and mean it. I learned to set limits and have healthy relationships. I learned where my passivity stemmed from and I worked hard to change myself. It is a process, likely lifelong, but it is always interesting to see me not act passive. It shocks me as much as anyone else. I used to just allow myself to be pushed around, I didn't even think about it, and, now, I have boundaries.

I had a test as to my passivity last night. As I've written before, three days of being iced in has made everyone restless... and I must add that today is ANOTHER day of being iced in... no work, no education, no activities... anyway, I digress.

Anyway, last night after dinner, I came back to the unit (no where else to go) and wanted to work on a creative project I am doing. The atrium offered no available tables or chairs, so I set up at the small desk in my room. No one was there, and it's the perfect surface. It is about a foot and a half long and 2 feet wide. I took all my items and set them up on the table and my bed (which is directly to the left). Colored pencils, markers, glue, notes, pictures, drawings, cards, etc. Everything was placed where I could easily reach it and I started to work on my project.

Next thing I know, my roommate walks in and asks me, "how long are you going to be at the table?" I respond that I don't know, I'm working on a project. She informs me that she is unable to be in her bed if I am sitting at the table, because she is 'clausterphobic.' I tell her that I don't know how long I will be, but she's welcome to sit on her bed. She continues to argue with me that my being at the table is disrespectful to her. Now, just two days ago, she was at the table for hours working on making a cheese cake. I said nothing. It's a table that all four of us can use - that's why it is there.

I tell her that I'm sorry she is uncomfortable on her bed with me on the table stool, but I really want to work on my project and there are no available chairs or table space in the atrium. So, she starts to scream at me that I am inconveniencing her and not respecting her needs. I say nothing and go back to my project. She then informs me that when I am on my bed wanting to sit, she will sit at the desk. I say, "That's fine. That's the reason the small desk is here." I go back to my project. She calls me a bunch of really ugly names, says I'm being inconsiderate, and storms off.

I sit there shocked for a minute. In my past life, I would have done anything and everything to avoid any confrontation. I knew she was being unreasonable, but I would have still given in and moved and stopped working on my project. As always, others heard this disagreement from outside the room and was telling me how insane she is, that she is so selfish, and that they are glad I stood up for myself. I am, too. Of course, now, she has not said a word to me in a day. I'm fine with that.

Funny thing is an observation Army and I made about Bandana. As soon as one of us starts talking to the other, Bandana will start singing loudly or start a conversation with Braids. She does it intentionally to make it difficult for me and Army to talk. Just last night, I was working on a crossword and asked Army if she knew the name of a Venetian boat ("Gondola" - but I'd spaced on it). Anyway, Bandana starts loudly singing her song as we discuss the word. Army thinks it is because Army is intimidated by the more intelligent conversations Army and I have. I don't know the reason, all I know is that Bandana is much more inconsiderate than I could ever be!

Now, I could have just given in to Bandana and stopped using the desk. There was no where else I could go to do my project, but I could have just given in to her and things would be much less stressful. That's what she wants. She wants to see that she can "control" me. She's been locked up for 12 years - since she was 19 years old - and only knows life as a convict. On the other hand, I will leave here in months and I need to leave here being at least as strong as I was when I entered. Sure, I am passive at times... Braids asks me to get something out of her locker almost every time I'm standing at mine. I say, "yes," because it is in no way out of my way and there's no good reason for me to say, "no." She doesn't ask if I'm in my bed.


It's important in prison to not be passive. It is also important to always remember that others' attitudes, activities, choices, aggression, bad behaviors, smells, passivity, violence, etc. has nothing to do with you. It is about them. Best thing to do is to separate yourself from their negativity and find something to keep you busy - for me it's all my projects. Usually, work also helps. When I have none of these things, I read. It's just like "filling the void" with recovery - we need to find healthy activities to keep us busy and away from the craziness.

I am no longer the passive person that everyone can push around. I am proud of this growth. It makes me a better person, even if it pisses off those who want a victim. I am not their victim. They may be angry, but that is not my fault. "No," is a very real part of my vocabulary now.

From Dragonfly: Iced In

Grand Rapids/Dallas is at a stand-still, ever since Thursday night's sleet storm. People cannot get out of their homes because their cars are in the garage and their streets are covered in ice. People around here do not have the northerners experience of driving on ice (not that anyone should - I tore my ACL for the 4th time when I fell on black ice on my campus almost 2 years ago). Anyway, the ice has given everyone a couple days at home with their families. This morning, I even saw that a ton of churches cancelled services.

With this storm, many officers have not made it to Carswell. There is only one cleared sidewalk - the shortest distance between the housing unit and the main/medical building. Therefore, the Carswell Compound is closed. They even cancelled visitation for the entire weekend. I feel horrible for any family members who made the trek (possibly from far distances) to see their loved one, only to find out that they cancelled visitation. Now, I need to say that the ice is about a half inch at places and is mostly snowy ice on the grass areas. Back in the Midwest, a bunch of sand and/or salt would have cleared this campus in hours. However, they do not stock these things here, because these kinds of storms don't happen here (usually).

Since it is not a cleared walkway, we are not able to go to indoor rec for days. So, since people depend on the equipment to work out at indoor rec, they are doing laps in the housing units - upstairs, walk a hallway, down stair, walk the floor, back upstairs, walk a hallway, downstairs... and so on. One woman I know walked 3 miles that way yesterday. I wanted to go to indoor rec to order some different colors of yarn for crocheting. The order was due by last night - for delivery in late January... I am hoping they extend the deadline due to them being closed. But, here at Carswell, rules, not logic, make decisions. If I have to wait, I will not receive the yarn until late February. Talk about needing to plan ahead!!

It is also not allowed for anyone to stay outside, other than the walk between buildings. I've seen many people, especially those from  Mexico, trying to touch snow for the first time in their life. I heard one say, "It's so cold." I can't imagine having only seen snow on television and never played in it in real life. Anyway, since they were off the walking path, they got in trouble for being on the snow. My dream snowman was never built.

Everyone is pretty much stuck inside their housing units, now, for the third day in a row. If you want to see restlessness, that's what it is like. I've seen fighting come from nothing, screaming about mundane issues, and rudeness like never before. There are not even enough chairs for the number of people in the unit, so when someone goes to the bathroom, their chair disappears with someone taking it elsewhere and claiming it for their own butt.

I spent the last couple days crocheting, card sending, doing crosswords, reading, and watching football. I was able to sign up for the sports television yesterday in order to watch a couple AMAZING college football championships. I must have looked a lot like my mother does when she sits with my step-dad and watches football. I was crocheting and watching. She knits sometimes. I always watched her and couldn't figure out how she does her knitting and television, but yesterday, I did both as well. Guess I am becoming a better crocheter. Oh, and I crochet like NOONE else... I can't hold the hook and string right because of pain in my hands, but I have a two handed way of doing it that works great. It's slower than most crocheters. My friends say I am 'knitcheting' because it almost looks like I am knitting, but with the single crochet hook.

Iced-in days are very slow. All we do is sit around. The C.O.s that make it to Carswell are restless as well. Yesterday, 18 people had to do "extra duty" because they got into trouble in my unit.

People are also trying to hustle hard this weekend for the things they want. I've been asked for some of my yarn many, many times. I am not engaging in the mass hustle this weekend. I have everything I need and plan to shop commissary again tomorrow (if it is open). People are paying crazy amounts of money for their hustles too --- robes going for $75, food items for 2x their normal cost, and coffee is at a premium right now. In addition, the line for phones and in the email room are absolutely crazy.

I hope that tomorrow becomes a normal day at Carswell once again. Today the weather should be above freezing for a couple hours and then tomorrow it warms up even more. Throughout this week, we will be on a warming trend - not hot, but above freezing. I hope this weekend may prompt Carswell to have weather contingency plans in the future.

I Didn't Want to Lie to You

On 9/11/2013 Dragonfly Hazel wrote a letter to Survivor during a really tough day. It did not start or end with "I am okay." The truth was, she could not lie to Survivor:

9-11-13 

Survivor,

Just finished the final standing count of the day. I’m in my bed trying desperately to stop the water falling from my eyes. I’m telling myself the serenity prayer. I’m repeating that, “other people’s opinions are none of my business.” I am just not emotionally strong or capable of handling the meanness of people here, especially some of my roommates and no one has my back. No matter what kind of “friendship” I think I’m forming, in the end the only person here I can count on is myself. Recovery wise I am strong but part of my recovery was to “feel” again. I had years of barely ever crying in my life, but feeling comes with consequences and my tears are one of those consequences. People tell me to be strong, but I’m not made that way. I am kind and sensitive, both of which are weaknesses in prison.

So, what happened? My roommate [Danbury] made us dinner tonight. I assisted a bit. We had fun and enjoyed the food. My roommate separated the food in 7 pieces, one for each of us, but 3 of the roommates were not here at the time, so the food was put aside for them. Around 8:40pm, I came back to my unit/room from the email office. We all have to be in our room at that time. Well, the roommate who cooked, offered the food to the others and when one of them didn’t immediately take her up on it, I added that the food is really good. Supporting the roommate that cooked. Suddenly, the other roommate [Hust] who had declined the food screams at me to not butt into the conversation. It’s not like it was a personal, private conversation. Then she tells me that everyone in the room is just annoyed and frustrated with me, since I “know” things and sometimes give my thoughts on stuff. Everyone else is allowed to, but I guess I am not. I pointed out that she often gives her opinion on things I’m talking about and/or breaks into conversations as well. We are a ‘room’ and people just talk all the time. They just don’t want me talking. I sure as hell don’t think it’s a good thing to fit in at prison. South, my older “friend,” said nothing, she just reacted facially to the other roommates mean, hurtful comments. That’s the thing about prison, no one has your back, silence is our safety.

So, I just lie down, open my book, start trying to read and hide my tears. But, my friend Chi comes by and wants to talk, so I go out of the room with her and she can see I’m upset, but I won’t’ tell her why, she just knows my roommates can be particularity mean. They are in the bus stop because of their past actions (unless they are new) including time in the SHU, fights, mouthing off, and more. I am stuck here because the minute a lower bunk opens somewhere, there is a new inmate placed in it. I am stuck due to no bed space anywhere.

I get back in my room and my roommate immediately think I was talking about her and I was not. I said nothing, Chi saw I was upset and comforted me, but I have held true to my conviction to tell on no one for any reason, to avoid getting beat up or worse. So, as she is telling me not to talk about her, I reply, “I don’t talk about you.” Such satisfaction she gets from her power trip, I have only been nice to her, but she can’t stand that I have a hard time bending down to get things under beds, that I am educated, that I follow the rules here and don’t engage in the underground market, and that I have commissary funds. She doesn’t like that on my second day, I did not hide food for a different roommate whose locker was being searched and that I said, “I’m here to do my time, not anyone else’s.” She hates the amount of mail I get. She calls me a brat because of my outside community of support. Putting me down is her power trip. She said everyone is annoyed with me, yet who gave her the power to speak for everyone in the room? I didn’t see or hear anyone else nodding or agreeing. These are strong women from the streets, involved in humongous drug rings. Yet, I know that inside they are just a product of unfair circumstances and/or addiction. They have fired guns, been in fist fights, and have high violence tendency. I am a “0” on the prison’s violence scale. They are imprisoned for years, the woman harassing me has been here 10 years. 

Meeting someone like me probably makes no sense to her. Later, as I was reading, Hust came over to my bed, not to apologize per se, but to hug me and tell me she still likes me. I guess she got an earful when I was out talking to Chi. I sat here and she hugged me, but I did not return the hug, no matter how hard she tried. All I said to her was, “Okay” to whatever she said, acknowledging but not forgiving. This is the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and it is important that I forgive, but I need time. Her hug made me think of any abuser, who goes psycho, but then tries to hug for forgiveness. She stated clearly that she does not think she did anything wrong, as she is “warning” me because other inmates will treat me even worse. Like somehow her actions will change me and my personality?!? What if I have finally come to terms to accept myself just the way I am and I do not need a career offender telling me how I should “act.” I am humble, giving, sincere, and honest. I choose to maintain these qualities, even if it means that I am not liked. 

This is not about being comfortable in prison, my goal is to accept responsibility for my past actions and to accept that it means spending months being uncomfortable and out of place in this place. 

People do not have to like me, but I cannot be their verbal punching bag either. I had a harassing supervisor at [a past job] who put me in a bad place, but I had choices and could leave that job and the harassment. Here, I have no choices. I must handle everything with no place to feel safe or accepted/acceptable.

I do not want to be hardened by this experience. Recovery gave me the right to have emotions. I feel prison will try to take it away. Every day, my letters and emails help me hold true to my true self. I will continue to be so grateful for the short breaks they give me from my current reality.

Okay, I know, depressing letter, ugh. But I can’t give a therapy and I needed to get all of this out. Thank you for reading.

Love, Dragonfly

p.s. Sorry I didn’t start this letter with, “I am okay.” I didn’t want to lie to you.

A Letter on Sex and Gender in Prison

I wrote the following letter to Cache 10 days into my incarceration. This was based on observation and thoughts of what I was witnessing. It is not based on empirical research of women's experiences in prison.

8-29-13

Cache,

I was already planning on writing this note around sex and gender here before what just occurred, but it is even more relevant now. There is a counselor here, Ms. X, she is the counselor in the mental health unit. She is tough, very tough, but she is sweet, respects every inmate and most definitely wants the inmates going home to their babies! She just came to our 4pm count as tough as tough can be. Screaming at anyone who got out of line and establishing new rules for the count (now not just my room has to step outside the room, but every inmate does). After count, she has us all go downstairs for a “town hall meeting.” We all had to stand the whole time and my ankles were killing me. Anyway, she stands on a table and starts by dispelling all the rumors about the counselor in this unit (Mr. T) who has been gone 2 ½ weeks. People were spreading all kinds of bad rumors about why he’s been gone, when actually he is enjoying himself in Hawaii at the moment - rumors in this place spread, change and become something bad every time. Next, she goes into a speech she actually makes at orientation (so I heard it last week). The speech is about the fact that as women, as ladies, we (inmates) are disgracing ourselves with all the crazy relationships, sex and std’s that occur as a result. I’m not sure how those in relationships felt about it, but I, for one, greatly appreciated her telling folks to calm it down. She was/is much more graphic with her language (talking about licking women’s v-g’s, etc). Plain and simple, this is not about sexual orientation/preference, it is about the prison rules, the fact that there are many women here (including myself) who just want quiet and sleep at night. I kid you not that from my observations, a good 90% of the inmates I’ve been in contact with violate the relationship/sex rules. So, here’s my thoughts on why and what I see.

Most of the women do not arrive here claiming any sexual orientation other than heterosexual. But they also arrive lonely, ashamed, and filled with self-disgust and incredibly low self-esteem. When another woman starts to pay them attention, the attention they crave, they can escape their self-reflection and focus on someone else, anything else, but look at their own pain. The relationships are unhealthy from the get-go. I watched a young inmate get beat up by her “girlfriend” who is many years her elder here and hours later they were “back together” paying no attention to the bruised fat lip. What these women crave is attention, someone to tell them that they matter, that they are loved and lovable,…I see it in their eyes. I know the look, it was me before I actually started to work on myself, face my demons, and accept myself. I couldn’t be alone ever, before I was able to find my own worth. I wish this place helped more of these inmates find their own self-worth too.

There is also a gender reality here. All around I see individuals that I can say ‘appear’ to be transgender, their hair, way they carry themselves, etc is all male/masculine, just like the many trans people I’ve known through my life. But here, I don’t know if that is what it is. It may be playing the “stud” role, the self-identified lesbian who wants the ‘straight’ women to do the chase. And that’s what I do see, the feminine women chasing the bois (the very masculine women). Is this the same as a trans on the streets or is it prison play? I, honestly, do not know. And, I’m not referring to just a few bois. There are a lot of them, with perfectly barbered hair, possibly binding their breasts. Yet, being referred to by their given female name and called women. If they are in fact trans, the women’s underwear, bras, names, etc would break them, depress them. Trans bois become suicidal at times when they can’t truly express their gender. How is it in here? They are definitely safer here than at a men’s prison, and they seem to get their pick of women. I wonder how Ms. X’s speech sounded to them. Their real gender having to be put aside while here.

So, I’ve talked relationships and I’ve talked gender, now about sex, not the chromosomes, the act. Women have sex here, they do. They sneak around and take chances and act stupid. Sex will get you put in the SHU. It will take away your “good time” so you have to be here longer. Why on earth do they have sex? Just like teenagers, where emotional and mental maturity has not caught up, it is fun, exciting and risk taking. Other than us white collar offenders, most these women love risk in their lives. They ran the streets and snuck around all their lives. Now, why wouldn’t they do the same thing here, in prison, where they have no self-esteem to start with. Prison can be boring, but sneaking around and not getting caught is exciting. They have no regard for the others, having sex in a room while the roommates try to sleep but scared to tell. Having sex in showers, on toilets (not kidding) and in stair wells. Public places. Why? The risk. No one wants to walk in on 2 people having sex, or more people which happens too. But, common respect is not a part of the life here in prison. So many inmates disrespect their roommates, their C.O.’s, their counselors, and themselves!

I’m not trying to say I’m “better” than anyone here. But, I will follow the rules. I desire to keep to myself, respect others, and give back. Seeing young women beat by their “girlfriends” or the drama of who is dating whom actually breaks my heart. These young women need direction and help. Instead they are finding escape and risk in prison. What will they be like when they leave? The revolving door of prison exists because we fail to help these young women find direction.

Just my thoughts,

Thoughts??

Love, Dragonfly

P.S. A code for women who want to find another woman is to have your shorts pockets sticking out, like really? Look ridiculous to get picked up!

P.P.S. I keep thinking of more things to mention on this subject. A lot of the ‘relationships’ are based on $, those who have none in their commissary trying to get with someone who has $ and will purchase items for them. Like I said, it’s a game. The newbies are easy targets, assumed to have $ and support. Why do they allow themselves to be used in this way? Attention and low self-esteem.