Moving Day

Today marked the day of moving all my belongings out of my apartment into a storage unit where they will sit for one month. Then, while I am incarcerated, my friend Sporty will take them out of storage as she moves into our new townhouse, which I will share with her upon my release. I'm crossing every "t" and dotting every "i".

My health and issues with my lower extremities make me a useless mover, so I had to depend entirely on the good will of friends and their friends. I hired some movers who never showed. Typical. We did need some more muscle, so I called every hauler I could find on Craigslist and finally found a guy who came with his friend. They were the help we needed at the right time. It wasn't the smoothest move, but definitely not the toughest, and no one and no furniture was destroyed, so, I am leaving content-  with a job well done. 

My friend Traveler planned the whole thing, so once again I'm amazed at how lucky I am to have the love and support of so many generous and inspiring people!! Also, Cowboy, my friend from my hometown, also in GA, was driving through and decided to stop by and help. That's the work of his recovery program through and through. I will not necessarily be able to do directly back for them anytime soon, but I can certainly PAY IT FORWARD. And I shall!!!

I will live at Cache's apartment for the week until I leave. We shared my Internet, so we need to get our Doctor Who downloaded to keep watching. At least I know I won't be alone my last week in town

Continued Gossip and Unfriending

The rumor has spread and a small group of colleagues have chosen to send me nearly identical messages a couple hours apart essentially telling me that they learned about my past, think I'm a horrible person, know I'm going to prison, and never want to talk to me again. These are people in my classes, research colleagues, and in a top ranked phd program. This is what I wrote back to the first one today:

"I am very sad to read this as I've always had so much respect for you. You are certainly entitled to your beliefs and I will honor them. I want you to know that reading an indictment is not reading facts. It is what the prosecutor hopes to prove. I chose to plea guilty and my plea does not include many of the arguments the prosecutor made. I never claimed my current leave was for health reasons, but for personal reasons, which was supported by [our university's] ombudsman and is not a lie. I am going to a medical facility. I struggled for 14 years with a horrible addiction that nearly took my life. Today, I am able to be a different person, make amends, and be in school because of intense therapy and my 12 step program. In education you will work with many educators and youth needing second chances, I have not run away from my past. I never lied and I face everything one day at a time."

I chose not to write back to anyone else. They each messaged me on Facebook and then proceeded to unfriend me. It was so similar in wording and action that it became obvious that they each knew what the others were doing. They timed it all out, so I would receive emails at different times, each affecting me, just a bit more.

This same behavior is seen in junior high and high school and is referred to as bullying. Can a 40 year old woman be bullied by colleagues younger than she? One of my classmates wrote that they hope I am never allowed to return to my university or my program. Such anger, such manipulation. Do I have a right to question the behavior of others when I am the one who is a felon?

Well, I certainly did a bad thing, but that does not make me a bad person. I never lied to these people, I chose to keep a part of my life private. They were not my inner circle. There is no responsibility in life to tell everyone everything. Should every woman reveal the abortion she may have had to have? The time her dad beat her mom? The day she drank too much and regrets her actions? The world she lived before she changed her life for the better? The answer is no. No for everyone. 

My friend wrote in response to today's incidents to another friend "I think the very people she chose not to tell are showing exactly why she chose not to tell them.  They are not friends to [her].  She is surrounded by many friends and family who love and admire her."

So, yeah, today was a horrible day, but inevitably, my friends, my real friends, my chosen family, come through and show me that I am loved and I need to put all my energy on that and not waste my time on those who don't even give me a chance to give my story. They are obviously able to cast stones unworried.

Are We Victims?

The individual who de-friended me earlier this week got a phrase stuck in my head. Not a phrase I am personally "owning," but one that has kept me thinking. In her rage of a text she was talking about the people my white collar crime hurt years ago. The ones I've cried about so many times, and she wrote, "and you're the victim?" I never said I was a victim. I was an addict. Addiction is an explanation, but not an excuse. I thought perhaps criminal charges would be filed immediately, like in most cases, but it took nearly five years for no reason. The prosecutors office wasn't waiting for any evidence. It just sat. They gave me time to get well, to make amends, to change myself. People who commit crimes should be punished, but the punishment should fit the crime and be timely. There are some crimes so outrageous that there are no statutes of limitations or extremely long ones, but there is a reason that for other types of crimes, at some point, we as a society let it go. If the offender has not gotten in trouble again with the law, perhaps it is time to move on. Important to remember that the purpose of criminal law is to punish the wrongdoer, not make the victims whole.

However, the truth is that our legal system is not always fair and just. Although, I will face my sentence with dignity and feel in the end it is fair, although much time has passed.  Racism, classism, and other forms of discrimination affect the sentencing of criminals sometimes. Also, if, like in my case, even the probation office feels that prison is not the right place for someone, it doesn't seem right that the judge ignores entirely the place the defendant is in, their growth, medical condition, fact that they can better pay restitution if out of prison, etc. Also, we all read at times about judges just going overboard and giving maximum sentences (which I did not get by any means) to people who literally made unfortunate mistakes, who will now be away from their families for years. Truth is, to me, sometimes, some people in prisons are also victims.

Plus, and I'm sure few will talk about it, if I were to go around the women's prison I go to and ask honestly about how many of those women were raped, molested, beaten, or battered, I imagine we will see way too many hands raised. So many women become victims too early in their lives, they lose their innocence and depending how often it happened how well it was handled inside and/or outside the family, they either became victims or survivors in their heads, their hearts, and their ability to deal with life on life's terms.

So, who is the victim? Sometimes, I'm just not sure.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

Today while interviewing the woman who will be hired to take my job starting August 15th, she mentioned that she's been to about 30 states. It immediately made me competitive (in my head only) as I wanted to say, "I've been to all 50." Which is true. Some long road trips during college breaks )with a good friend when I was not invited home) led me through most of the states. I was fortunate to fly to Hawaii and Alaska in my mid-20s, and rounded it out with my very last state at the age of 27 - Texas. Yes, with such a large country, the last state is huge and south central, but somehow I'd avoided it until I had a conference for a weekend in Austin. Now, 13 years later, it will be my home for a long while, hopefully no more than 319 days.

I will be in Fort Worth. Friends keep asking me exactly where that is located compared to Houston, Austin, or Dallas. I suppose providing our loved ones with maps of local areas would be a good idea. Prisons don't tend to be in the middle of towns (like jails).

I thought I would share some interesting facts about The Lone Star State. Texas comes from the Hasinai Native American word tejas meaning friends or allies. For some reason, I find that ironic. They killed off the entire Hasinai tribe. 

Texas includes 267,339 square miles, or 7.4% of the U.S.' total area.

This does not surprise me, "it is still a hanging offense in Texas to steal cattle or to put graffiti on someone else’s cow. It is also illegal to indecently expose or swear in front of a corpse in Texas. In Galveston, Texas, it is illegal to have a camel run loose on the beach."

The city of Slaughter, Texas, has never had a homicide. 

Texas experiences the most tornadoes in the United States, with an average of 139 per year. Tornadoes occur most often in North Texas and the Panhandle.

State BirdMockingbird

State TreePecan

State Motto“Friendship”

State FlowerBluebonnet

State DishChili

State GrassSideoats Grama

State GemTopaz

State StonePalmwood

State Mammal (large)Texas Longhorn

State Flying MammalFree-tailed Bat

State InsectMonarch Butterfly 

State FishGuadalupe Bass

State VegetableOnion

State FiberCotton 

State FruitRed Grapefruit

State StonePetrified Palmwood

State PepperJalapeno

State SportRodeo

State ShrubCrape Myrtle

State DanceSquare Dance

Something tells me, they will not be practicing the state dance where I'm going.

I figured I write an awful lot about going inside Carswell, I just figured it would be appropriate to set the context of the state in which it sits.

Preparing Now for Life After

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

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

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

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

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

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

      

Just in Case

As my final days of freedom for 2013 are coming to a close, I'm wrapping up important things I need to do - especially those "just in case" things. I recently saw my neurologist and received a copy of my medical record from him, telling him exactly what is happening. If my health takes a turn while I'm in prison, my doctors on the outside are my best advocates, but only if they know. I already did the same with my general practitioner, although we are doing one more follow up just before I go, and I will repeat my story with my Rhumatoligist on Monday. Each time, I'm getting a full copy of my medical records. I'm bringing them with me to my self surrender so my medications have support. I'm also leaving a copy with Survivor and with Faith (my friend taking on all my medical advocacy and who is also my health care proxy).

That's right, I finally did it. I drafted my health care power of attorney, my living will, my property power of attorney, and a hippa release, as well as a last will and testament today. I've written these documents so many times for other people, but it was really weird writing my own. I have a friend reading them over to ensure they read okay and then I'll get them notarized. Originals will go into Cache's safety deposit box and copies will go to the relevant people. Signed, sealed, and delivered. Of all the documents, writing my will was the oddest and most difficult. I included a small memorandum of just a few items I wanted special distribution of, the rest would go to those listed in my will. There are so many I would want to recognize, but I had to stop and realize that my loved ones will each ask for what they want and hopefully those I named as heirs will be open to giving that. Although, I do not plan on dying for at least a half century. But, we must be prepared.

Another health related appointment I made, as Faith had insisted (she is a good health proxy) is with an eye doctor. I wear glasses all the time. If for some reason my glasses break in prison, I am authorized to have a new pair shipped to me. Faith is set to do so, but can only order some if I have a prescription within 1 year of ordering. Faith knows of a great website where I can select my frames and everything now, so all she has to do is order them if I need them. They are inexpensive too. I actually had a nice surprise at the optometrist today, he had to recheck my eyes multiple times perplexed, it appears my medications are improving my eyesight, which is extremely rare. He was checking to see if it was a mistake. But it wasn't. He offered me a free follow up in a month to see if it continued, as it is so rare, but alas, I told him I will be out of town for a while.

There are so many little things we need to do to prepare. Sure, we can choose not to. A lot of people don't even get the chance to self surrender. But a little bit of inconvenience could probably make our lives a whole lot easier once we lose our ability to have access to much of anything.

11 days til self surrender.

Doctor Who

My neighbor, Cache, and I like to spend time together NOT talking about our stress, my leaving, illness, or dieting. We like to watch movies and tv shows that entertain us, make us laugh, and allow us to get out of our heads for a while. Cache introduced me to Doctor Who at the end of spring, just before I knew my sentencing to prison. Before that, I honestly believed house arrest was a very real option and I imagined night after night of Cache and I sitting in my apartment watching The Doctor fly through space and time in his TARDIS, saving the human race and any other species deserving to continue to exist. Instead, we try to get 1-2, sometimes we are crazy and just can't stop and do more, episodes in a night, and see how far I can get before I have to leave. She's seen them all. I'm about 1/2 way through season five. I think there's a lot about watching Doctor Who that is actually poinient to the world in which I am about to enter.

The Doctor blindly enters new worlds knowing there's danger, but not quite sure of what the danger is. At his core is his need in keeping those he cares about safe. He uses his intelligence, not weapons (generally), to outsmart opponents and survive. He can't wait to get beyond his current dangerous situation and find freedom once again.

The Doctor needs companionship to be successful in the long run. He gets lonely and like most people, can't do everything without help. This is not a need for a sexual relationship, but for someone to care about and who cares about him.

I see many parallels between that and how I will survive my next 10 or so months. Perhaps I'm just wanting to write a blog about Doctor Who, but it's been a wonderful way to have a healthy escape with the company of Cache as I face my distant unknown world.

Sex, Affection, and Relationships in Prison

So, I'm running low on days to write this blog post before my self surrender, so I suppose now is the right time. If anyone reading this blog has watched "Orange is the New Black," they have seen a lot of prison sex. Well, while the free reign of locations and time do not really exist in women's prisons, sex does happen. To my utter amazement, one academic study noted that 75-80% of women in prison engage in some sort of same-sex "coupling or relationships" that include some sort of sexual favor. I thought perhaps I would write a bit about what I've read.

First, it seems to make little difference as to the sexual orientation of the woman in prison. Some call it, "gay for the stay." Others just refer to it as the necessary need to have intimacy and affection. Sexual favors do not always include something which leads to orgasm. In many prisons, women who are identified as lesbians or who are not very feminine are considered "studs." The other women are considered femmes. In many prisons it is the femmes that let the studs know they are interested, but if caught, it is often the stud that is penalized. COs often keep a close eye on anyone known to be a lesbian (homophobia alive and well in the prison system even though there are some really amazing policies and anti-discrimination training against doing so). 

Second, families of sorts form in prison. These may or may not include some form of sexual play. These "families" are often made up of a stud and femme who have a strong bond and close relationship along with a couple young, maybe 20-something, inmates who are like their children. They will act as mentors for these younger offenders and protect them from the dangers of prison. There will be no sexual relationship with these younger offenders, but as a "family," all will be expected to have each other's backs and to do favors for each other and help one another out. With the younger offenders that are more masculine in the "family," they may be called "boy" and a more feminine one "girl," this is part of the role playing. So hearing inmates refer to others as, "mom, dad, sister, brother, boy, girl, etc." don't do a funny face or assume mom or sister means blood. It may mean within the confines of the prison walls. A family of protection, affection, intimacy, survival, and friendship.

Third, even if all this scares the heck out of you, don't be afraid of a little affection. Just because a woman hugs you, holds your hand, or offers you some comfort, does not mean she wants to have sex with you or to make you her "prison wife." You will still need friendships and affection when you are in prison. And more often than not, these are women just like you, scared, loved ones at home, and just lonely.

Know whatever your boundaries are and don't cross those boundaries. "No," still means, "no." Whatever you decide to do, know that it is against the prison rules to engage in any sexual activity in prison (although as mentioned above, it occurs), so if your goal is to do your time and get out, following the rules and keeping a low profile will help. At the same time, do not be a snitch on others if you don't want to be on the wrong side of a fight or thrown in the SHU for your own protection.

As for me, I am currently in a place in my life where sex couldn't be further from my list of priorities. I do enjoy some affection and imagining choosing to go nearly a year without allowing anyone to ever even give me a friendship hug is a bit insane. I will not put boundaries on affection that is allowed in prison, but I choose to only engage in such behavior that will not risk my good time off. I have too much to come home to and too many people I can't wait to hug back home!!

A Friendship Lost

It's the first one. The first time since I entered recovery. I have lost a friend because they cannot support me due to my past. It won't be the last time. This is the same woman I wrote about yesterday, who I learned had broken my trust. I reached out to her to ask her why. Her explanation seemed to point to the idea that she found my indictment online, read it, decided I'm a monster based on the accusations, and that I lied to her. As anyone in the criminal legal system knows, an indictment is not filled with proven facts, but one sided evidence to see if there is enough to move forward and arrest/bring a defendant to court. More than half the stuff in my indictment was swiped out of my plea agreement. It doesn't matter though. People will choose to believe what they want to believe. I have lost a friend and I need to just let her go.

At the same time, I have no right to make any of my other friends uncomfortable with their friendships with this person. She has every right to feel however she does about me, and while she did not show any integrity by not coming to me or telling someone to google my indictment rather than just tell them to talk to me, I will simply just walk away from her. I will not waste my time and energy with anger, because I can't change her actions or the past or her reaction to my past crime. I cannot force her to understand addiction or recovery. I lost almost all my friends before I came into recovery, and now, being a felon, I'm sure there are closed minded people who will judge me in the future as well.

For me I learn a great lesson from this about passing judgment on others. So often we fail to try to understand "why" a person made a bad choice or a mistake. I used to be very judgmental. Since I came into recovery 5 years ago, I went from judgmental to incredibly curious. I'm curious on why a person makes the choices they do. I try to hold judgment to when I have enough details (the researcher in me). I'm going to really need this skill in Carswell.

I've read that inmates somehow find out the crimes of each others convictions, even though no one really talks about them. I don't know if that makes some people targets based on their crime. Mine being wire fraud is typical white collar, but the implications of my crime hurt a lot of people. I don't know how that could play out and I guess I can't worry about it cause it is an unknown right now. 

Anyway, the fact that someone violated my trust may make you think I'd question whether I would choose to trust someone else in the future. I have to say that it changes nothing. I still will not live the double life ever again and keep big secrets from my closest friends. Nothing has changed. I cannot stop trusting everyone because one person made a choice that hurt me.

13 Days

My days ahead are packed beyond belief and my list of things to do continues to grow, even as I accomplish things every day new things come up (return Internet modem to UPS for shipping; send thank you card to ___; add ___ to my list of 30; have discussion with gossips; etc). It is still important that I'm putting all of these down or I will forget some. 

Included on my list today are to write and mail myself letters of things I want to have in prison. On the outside of the envelope(s) I have to write, "SAVE FOR REPORT DATE 8/19/2013." Inside one or more envelopes will be my list of 30 (30 names and addresses and telephone numbers for my phone privileges); another list with all my family/friends' names, addresses, emails, and/or bdays. So I can fill out to visitation request form, write people, and so I can use the prison links email system. I will also bring a copy of these with me and have my friend hold a copy just in case. 

I will also mail myself a handful of photos. I will only send myself photos I have digitally, in case I never receive them. I don't want to send in too many, in case my friends send me some, as we do have restrictions, but there are some people I must have photos of, like my T.S. and another with a group of women I am close to.

I may have 13 days til self surrender, but I have only 4 days til my move (out of an apartment I love); 8 days til my last day of work (for now); and 11 days til I fly down to Texas.

At least I know I face none of this alone. I also say the serenity prayer a lot when things get difficult. You've probably heard it, but it goes:

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

The serenity prayer could not be more applicable to those of us facing incarceration. We must have acceptance, as we cannot change that fact. We must have courage to adequately prepare ourselves and change ourselves to ensure we NEVER have to go to prison again! We must have wisdom to not misplace our efforts on those things that we can't change and instead, work on ourselves. We cannot change people, places, or things. What we can change is us, how we think, react, our emotions, our education, our goals, etc. 

A wise person told me that time in prison can go two ways. It can perpetuate the person and choices that got you incarcerated or it can be an opportunity to spend some time with yourself changing, exploring, and growing.

When Trust is Violated

I was having a really decent day. I got a lot of things done at work. I met with Dr. P. (my academic advisor) and we finalized the plan for my independent study during my incarceration, and a very good friend (Halo) came over tonight for dinner, chatting, and packing. My curio cabinet and most of my fragile pieces outside my kitchen are officially in boxes! Good thing because I think I found a place to consign my curio cabinet!

Unfortunately, just after Halo left, I received a call from a friend who I am not very close to, but displays the most incredible integrity. She heard some gossip about me today and instead of engaging in the gossip, she contacted me to let me know. THAT IS A REAL FRIEND!!! Turns out that someone in my trust circle at school. Someone I've known since day 1 and knows my whole story, decided to tell someone at a party of my colleagues to google me and the reason I'm taking a leave of absence. She then gave her the exact hints on what to google to find my indictment.

That person told another colleague who told another colleague who told another... You get the idea. When I say that the original person was in my circle, I mean they were on my list of 30 for prison. They are best friends with other good friends of mine. Yet, I can't remember a time having had my trust violated deeper. 

Interesting thing was what I did next. I wasn't passive or spiteful. First, I made sure that the person who shared with me knew how grateful I was and how much integrity she showed. We always need to let people know when they do something positive. Then I went straight to the source and tried calling the person who started the gossip. Thing is, in the past I was passive. So passive. I could confront no one for myself. I was not going to scream. I wanted to ask her to tell me her side of the story (there are always two sides of a story and I will not fully pass any judgment until she tells her side). Those of us in trouble with the law know all too well how often judgment is passed without the ability to tell our story, I want to hear hers.

Next, I talked with friends who support me and came up with ideas for next steps. When I'm emotional, I know that I need to lean on my friends more, not less. My friends always show how amazing they are.

Finally, I talked to one of my colleagues who spread the rumors who was already informed that I knew. Gossip really does spread fast in my educational program! I started the conversation with the preface that I was not mad at her or any of the others who may have spread the stories. I had never spoken to them and they were never told in my confidence, therefor, it would be misplaced for my anger to be at them. My anger is only at the person who did violate my trust. She is responsible for the consequences of doing so.

Anyway, I asked this woman to gather those people who are now "in the know" of some piece of my story of indictment and/or prison and that I'd like to have the opportunity to meet with them all together, tell them the truth, ask for an end to the gossip and professionalism as colleagues, and answer their questions.

She agreed. In the meantime, she apologized numerous times about her actions and took responsibility for continuing the rumor to others. I think the way this is all being handled may be a learning opportunity for everyone involved.

The one person I hope to still hear from is the person who violated my trust. I want to know why. It seems so out of her character. Was it alcohol? Jell-O shots? Did she regret it? Did she even think about it afterwards? 

People gossip all the time. We have magazines full of gossip. From what I can tell, prisons are also full of gossip. But there's gossip that's harmless and gossip that's harmful. Most people know the difference. A person's criminal status is certainly one that could go on the harmful side in many circles. There are places we must tell - employment applications - but we are under no obligation to tell everyone.

My Morning Fog

Ever since I got sick, but especially with my medications, I wake up with a morning head fog. It used to include a headache but a great medication has helped alleviate the headaches. It takes a good hour for my head fog to work it's way clearer. It almost feels flu-like, but I'm used to it and my whole body isn't feverish or achy, its just stiff in the joints in the morning. So I usually stay in bed for a while, stretching different parts of my body, and allowing by head fog to clear. It's quite painful when I oversleep and need to get out of bed quickly. I've  actually come to enjoy my slow mornings this past year. It allows me time to think and plan my day.

I don't think prison will allow me my slow mornings. I'm not sure how accommodating a medical facility really can be. Their primary goal is still to keep order and I certainly do not want to be a trouble maker. Prison is going to be a long term test of mind over body. I will have to will myself to move and take care of myself when I am able.

My head fog seems to be part of a larger neuro issue at times. Sometimes, I have difficulty with word finding and short term memory. It is not dementia or anything like that. It's just part of this autoimmune craziness. I hope to be able to carry a notebook with me everywhere, so I can write down things I need/want to make sure I remember. I won't forget everything, obviously, but I don't want to be asked to get some things and accidentally forget the exact items I was supposed to get (I would remember like 3 or 4 of the 5 items, etc.) I didn't used to be that way. It all started this year, since my illness flair up. I can still teach or give a speech, I just have to prepare a little differently. I have to work with my new foggy head.

My hope is that my head fog will not be a problem for me in prison. It seems so crazy to be dealing with so many things at the same time, but I'm not the only one and I will get through this. One day at a time.

Fear

I've been asked a lot if I'm scared. I can only answer honestly, " of course I'm scared." I've never heard a story about prison being a good place to go. But I can't live in worry and fear every day. It would merely cause paranoia and nothing I actually think is likely to actually happen. I have to live in the day. I do continue to research constantly through prisontalk.com, online, even research studies done in women's prisons. I've always been a curious person. I want answers. I love the ability to find answers by typing with my fingers anytime of the day or night. I'll miss that.

I was thinking that perhaps if I just list quickly the various things that are my fears, I can at least get them out there. They are here, in my head, but they don't drown me or paralyze me. But I'm sure anyone in my position would have some. I have plenty:

- getting beat up (I've never been in a fight in my life)

- not getting the medication I need

- watching people die (it is a medical center)

- being around aggression

- people stealing my things

- being put in a top bunk (I wake up very stiff in my legs)

- racism, anti-semitism, homophobia

- rape (7 employees found guilty of raping inmates in past 15 years, even a priest)

- a flair up of my medical condition

- someone in my family or a close friend gets really sick or dies and I can't be there

- somehow getting thrown in the SHU

I guess that's a lot to be fearful of, but I also think its normal. I'm going to an unknown with a bad reputation. I'm leaving behind all I love and my comforts. I have allergies, illness, dietary needs, glasses, a recovery program, and other things that may make the transition difficult at times. I figure once I can get past the initial strip search I may be able to let go of some of my fears, but I didn't list that one but it mortifies me. I am not one of those people comfortable in the nude, ever. I'll just close my eyes, bite the inside of my lip (like I did when I was scared to go on stage in my theater days) and face each of these things. 

I walked into my first GA meeting with all men, until one woman walked in. In some ways, that night was filled with just as many fears because back then I did not yet know how to work through my emotions. Today I can. So, I do have fear, I am scared. I believe that is quite healthy given that I self surrender 2 weeks from today.

Little Boxes, Big Boxes, Boxes, Boxes, Boxes

I wonder how many people needing to self surrender are in my situation. Living alone. Rental apartment. Need to pack up and move everything before I travel 1,000 miles to my next shared living experience where I will bring nearly nothing with me. I've finally "started" packing a little more. Friends are coming by throughout the week to give me additional help. I obtained boxes from others recent moves and being grateful at not having to salvage or purchase any, I just took them all in like lost kitties. I now have an entryway and a car filled with boxes of every shape, size, and weight and at least twice the number I will need, so I will merely pass them on.

I am also packing boxes to give to others. A box of school supplies for T.S. A box of my medical records and a box of my financial records to be stored with friends just in case. A pile of items to give to Traveler who knows someone who sells things on eBay in order to survive. Bags full of cards that I hate throwing away, but I can't keep everything. As much as I've started, my fatigue hits me quickly and I can't accomplish a fraction of my packing or sorting goals.

Today was productive in other ways though. I did reserve a moving truck and a storage locker. I had to have Sporty actually get the storage locker since she will be moving my things into her home (my future home while on supervision) when I am serving my time. Actually my things will only be stored for one month, and public storage offers the first month for $1, so with fees- the month is only $16 total. Quite the deal. My moving day is 6 days away. I will have to be very productive during my non work hours for the next 5 days!

I can't believe I have only one more full weekend where I live before I travel to Texas. Sometimes the waiting goes really slow, but now everything is moving in a time warp!

15 days til self surrender. Two weeks from tomorrow.

Weight

I was told by certain family members that I will be made fun in prison about my weight. Why should prison be any different than a school play yard? Although, I anticipate many women of all shapes and sizes right along with me in Carswell. It's not like the healthiest people always find themselves in prison and I am going to a medical facility. 

My weight has always been a thing with my family. Not just my parents, but with others as well. On my mother's side of the family, the women would rather starve themselves than show an ounce of fat. Even my teenage niece has been diagnosed with an eating disorder do to the overwhelming insistence on skinny and outward appearance. 

For me, I was a teenage athlete, always active, but never skinny - even when I was incredibly muscular. In my early 20's doctors diagnosed me with poly-cystic ovarian syndrome and pretty much told me that my attempts to really diet were futile. Sure, I can lose weight, but I will never be skinny, my body doesn't react right to too many foods.

Then my diet is also bad and got worst as my gambling progressed. Hours upon hours of food deprivation while gambling and then eating whatever I could find while driving home was not the diet of champions. I gained weight. I hated myself and I didn't care. 

Losing weight, especially with the PCOS, is very difficult. I plateau at too high a weight. My doctor says that I shouldn't worry about it because my weight is not unhealthy per se (my cholesterol and blood pressure and glucose numbers are fine). But it's always been a struggle of mine - wanting to be thinner - not like my family, but able to fit in a small, medium, or large (not in the XL + categories) and dealing with my personal body realities and other demons.

Ironically, since I got sick a year ago, my weight has been on a roller coaster. At first I lost ten pounds almost immediately, then 6 months of prednisone caused me weight gain plus a full on round moon face, now I've lost nearly 30 pounds - but the moon face is still there. So people don't see the weight loss if they just look at my face. Plus my stiffness makes my walking so difficult at times that my mom thought it was due to weight gain. 

For a while now I've made a joke with my friends on diets saying that I didn't need to go on a diet, because soon I'm going to be on the prison diet. For some in prison, all the carb heavy food, and the junk they sell in commissary, causes them to gain weight. For others, prison causes them to lose weight. I don't think I'll be gaining weight. I'm a very picky eater, so if I don't like my food, I literally will not eat it. I'll just visit the salad bar. I don't have enough money to buy a bunch of junk food from the commissary. I will be offered three meals per day, which is better rounded out than how I currently eat (usually skip breakfast and sometimes lunch when I'm at work). My metabolism may actually get closer to normal.

So, unlike my family, I am not worried about being called names about my weight in prison. I own my size and actually believe myself cute sometimes. If it helps keep some people off my back, I'll be glad for that. I don't judge people based on their size or looks and no one knows someone's back story about why they may have a scar, their weight, no hair, etc.; and, it is none of my business either.

Friends and Dates

I've been reaching out to my friends and asking them to give me their dates - their birthdays, anniversaries, and for those in G.A., their clean dates. I'm putting these dates with their names, addresses, phone numbers, emails, and ages (ages only for those that want to be included on my visitation list). I will carry one list in with me, have a copy that I mail to myself just before self-surrender and give a copy to Survivor just in case. Somehow I'll make sure I get the information. This will be my means of communication, and more importantly, to let people know that I care about them too (celebrate their special days!).

Tonight was an especially difficult night for me. I recently learned that a friend of mine was having some suicidal thoughts and, well, I felt it instinctually hours ago. This important person sent me a text filled with positivity, but I know this friend well and I knew that something about the text didn't read just right. It sounded to 'final.' So, I called and texted and got no response and then the night ensued with a lot of other people involved but I'm happy to report that my friend did not hurt them self, although I had interpreted the earlier text correctly (as contemplation was occurring). I really care about my friends and being in prison will keep me from being able to be there for my friends in their times of need (whether big or small). Recovery gave me the ability to know how to be a real friend and prison will take away my right to be a friend. Instead it just feels like everyone is doing for me, and it feels too one-sided.

Maybe my ability to acknowledge birthdays and anniversaries with the bland prison cards available will mean something. Most people just get a Facebook message from most people these days. Maybe I'll be allowed to make my own cards or include my dorky craft projects. It really won't matter. I just want to be able to acknowledge my friends and let them know how much I appreciate them and that I may not know their highs and lows, but I wish I did.

I dedicate this blog posting to my good friend who is going through a very hard time right now but will wake to see the sunrise in the morning.

Nails and Services

My aunt Bay is visiting me right now. She's always been one of my favorite people. She's an artist in every sense of the word and was never afraid of an adventure. I usually was. I grew up hearing her stories of travel and experiences that would make my jaw drop, eyes big, and head swirl with imagination. She would often put her experiences into plays and I'd sit front row watching her play multiple characters she had met over the years, fascinated, and enthralled. For the first time, I'm about to have an adventure she's never quite been on.

Bay and I decided to get pedicures today. Neither of us are girlie- girls. We are not afraid to show our toes without polish and neither of us has a manicure. We just both needed our feet to be worked on, for different reasons. Bay's toes needed a deep cleaning and foot shaving from the work she does taking care of her land and large garden. She did get some color, but she is not likely to get another pedicure for nearly a year. It's a treat!

My last pedi was in March, before a cruise. My first pedi was with a GA friend and T.S. when I was being shown that getting a pedicure was a nice self pampering. Today's pedicure was simple. Just clean up my toes, shorten my nails, and add no polish. I am not self surrendering with pretty polished toes.

In Carswell, there is a salon. Although the 'on the books' way to get services is through payment on my commissary account, in reality services are done through the unofficial 'barter system.' 

Technically, bartering items is against prison rules. This makes it very difficult to know what I will do. All I want to do is get out of prison ASAP and keep myself out of trouble. But, over a period of time, I'm inevitably going to need one or more services. 

Groceries

I did my final grocery shopping (for the most part) yesterday. I'll pick up a few items here and there, but I have a lot of planned meals out, the move, guests, and several days in Texas before my self surrender, so yesterday is likely the last time I'll go down all the aisles. I did not shop smart or necessarily healthy. I didn't look at prices. I bought my favorite breakfast cereal. I got the Greek yogurt that comes with the granola to mix in. I went to the deli for my lunch meat and cheese. I got a bottle of Mr. & Mrs. T Mix which I drink with no alcohol mixed in. A jar of whole pickles (yum!).  Milk. Good spreadable cheese and wheat thins. Eggs. A couple pieces of fruit. Pirate's Bootie. A couple more things. Not a lot. No reason to. I plan to eat at several of my favorite restaurants - sushi, Thai, Indian, Vietnamese, Mexican, Italian, the movie theater that serves meals while watching films, taco truck, and at least one really good steak!

If I lived with folks, I'd make meals here, but I've already sold my table and chairs and I prefer to try to enjoy my dinners with friends. I'll eat some meals here, enjoying my final groceries, by myself, but enjoy those real meals that I'm eating out.

16 days til self surrender

Employment

I've had a lot of jobs I have not enjoyed. Jobs with crazy bosses. Jobs that lacked supervision and let me take the fall. Jobs where I dreaded going to work every day. Jobs where I came home with a headache every night. Jobs I did just to pay bills or gamble. Jobs I wasn't respected. Jobs I didn't deserve. Right now, I love my job. I was hired into it just in December and started in January. I've loved it practically every day. I get enough independence to thrive and teamwork and supervision to learn and succeed. I work with a diverse group of individuals who each bring their own skill sets to the office and we work with an incredible population of clients. Yes, I love my job.

Next week, we hire my replacement. Two of the three candidates could possibly be there just 1-1 1/2 years, the 3rd would want the position for years. This is the reality of graduate assistant ships and PhD students -it all depends on where we are with our program. Two are close to finishing their dissertation. A slight possibility exists that if they are hired, I could come back into my job, perhaps not.

I'm not yet sure if felons can hold a graduate assistantship on my campus. I need to inquire. It will certainly affect my post prison decision making. Traveler has promised to call HR and ask the questions for me. That's very kind of her. 

I'm keeping my hope alive to come back to the job I love. At the very least, I get to make sure my replacement is awesome!

Hats

I love hats - big hats, baseball caps, bolo caps, forwards, backwards, fisherman, tall, tight, beanies, knit, safari, floppy ears hanging down, doesn't matter. My head was made for caps and I like to wear them. In fact, I'm not a fan of my hair, never have been, I like hats!

Hats are available in the commissary. There's a "plain cap" for about $7 and a knit hat for outdoors. Something tells me that neither of these hats will fit my hat head the right way, but we will see. Thing is, I will not be allowed to wear these hats into the dining hall or to my work or likely to visitation - so for the most part, my hats will only be available to me from 4-9 pm during downtime, except for the dinner time. This defeats the purpose of wearing my hats.

When I pack up my hats (yes, another box still waiting to be filled) my hat box will be filled. My hats will be in storage waiting for me and I for them. Will I choose my Vietnam safari hat? The painters cap? My favorite baseball team's hat? A cap with my college's logo? I don't know, but I will miss my nearly daily choice of what hat "matches" my clothing that I choose to wear for the day.

We Still Have Rights

Today I was trying to make my friends' life easier by consolidating my credit cards. When I called to do so, I learned that my credit looks bad because my former leased vehicle shows four months of non-payment AFTER it was traded in for a different vehicle. Needless to say, my credit limit increase and credit card consolidation was denied. 

I immediately started to call both the dealership and the credit agency that covers my car lease. Within four hours, I had a handshake and all was corrected with the dealership admitting their error to the credit agency, the credit agency reversing their reports on my credit report, and all will be well. As we all know, it takes time for the credit bureaus to correct things on their end and I'll likely be in Texas by then.

Somewhat ironic because over the next year, other items will likely hit my credit report for non-payment legitimately. Things I just don't have enough funds to cover with what I could get together. I don't think that's an excuse, though, to give up on trying to do the best I can to try to give myself a chance to maintain some credit post prison. I'm sure I will need a car. I'm sure every little thing helps. 

Even as felons, we still have rights. I felt good that I had this tiny bit of success today because these kinds of things, unfortunately, can often become headaches and nightmares instead.

17 days til self-surrender

Last Minute Changes

When we are going to prison, we unfortunately must depend on other people a lot. But we must accept that we cannot control other people and we must respect them. First, they are doing us the favor. Second, they are free, we are not. Third, we have lost our right to control our affairs. This is hard to accept, but very true.

I had several areas where I was depending on other people to make my life easier - such as where my furniture and things would go, my school being timely in reimbursing me, and things such as that. Truth is that people are allowed to be on their own timelines, not ours. They do not need to help us, they can choose to. We must be grateful for each thing that does happen.

Because not everything is going according to my perfect plan, I am needing to change my plan, which is fine. Perhaps it is more difficult, but that's on me. Perhaps I need to make some difficult choices, but that is a consequence of my going to prison.

Currently, I must decide what I will do for at least a month with my household full of things, as my first plan fell through. Most options are expensive and would also require dependence on yet more people while I am gone. My scheduled moving day is just 9 days away, I have barely packed as well. These things must be taken care of - hopefully today I get my plan together!

I Just Wanted Your Life to be Easier

So, my goodbyes with my folks went almost exactly as I thought they would. There were no tears. There were no longer than normal hugs. There were no promises of visits or letters or pictures. My mom chose to drop me off a little early at the commuter train to the city because she wants to get her car appraised, she did not wait with me or see me off. She spent most of our time together this morning on the phone with friends telling them that everything is good and talking about her upcoming trip to Las Vegas and Los Angeles. She did say one thing before we said goodbye, "I just wanted your lives to be easier..." referring to both my older sister and myself. I'm not sure what makes a life "easy," as some would say my sister- who has a nice house, two spoiled daughters, and a handsome husband, and doesn't seem to have to work has it pretty easy- but life throws her curveballs. Doesn't life throw everyone curveballs? I mean, the people with tons of money overdose, the people with much love get in accidents, the people with perfect marriages get cancer... Stuff happens. An easy life is not a guarantee. It is about how we handle our life that matters. I know my mom regrets many decisions she has made in her life. Honestly, I do not. I cannot. Who knows what different decisions would have led to? Life is about learning, growth, acceptance, and responsibility. Do I wish I were not going to prison? Sure, absolutely, but I know that it is not about dream world wishes. Life is about getting through the difficult times and still being able to smile on the other side- looking back and saying, "whoa, that was quite a ride."

Turning it all Over

Since I've come into recovery, I've been maturing. People usually mature in their teens, 20's, etc., and I did in some ways. However, my emotional maturity was just shut down and that led to other areas of failure in my life as well.

Today, I do a decent job of maintaining life on my budget, keeping a nice home, a clean car, being organized, etc. To me, these are signs of maturity. However, I am currently having to turn everything over to someone else - Survivor takes my bills and budget; my parents take over my car lease; Sporty is taking all my furniture and belongings; T.S. is taking Hope (my motor scooter); I'm leaving the apartment I love; Traveler is taking on my school email and school registration/ financial aid needs; Sporty is taking my general mail (other than bills that go to Survivor); I lose my health insurance; I cancel my renters, car, and scooter insurance; my medical bills go unpaid because I simply don't have enough money; I lose my job that I love and have to help hire my replacement; Survivor is taking on keeping this blog going by sharing updates from me; etc.

I just realized that I don't have anyone checking my non-school email yet. Always good to make lists.

Anyway, all my ways of being mature are now being stripped away from me for 10 months. To me, this makes little sense. They should be teaching us responsibility in prison, not slugging off all our responsibilities on other people.

I find the process of giving up all my responsibilities daunting and very difficult. I'm proud that my checkbook balances these days and that I was able to be approved for a decent leased car. Now I need to give up these things and let go of the control and just trust. I've learned to trust as well. It's hard though and I will not allow it to be an excuse to become immature or irresponsible. 

I'm also making these people my proxies, in the sense that I am responsible for their decisions. So, I cannot get mad at them after the fact if I do not like a decision they made. It is a consequence of my being in prison, which is a consequence of my past criminal behavior from compulsive gambling.

The Real "Lasts"

Today and the past few days have consisted of many "lasts" for my time prior to prison. Today included my last G.A. Meeting in my hometown (I'm on my way back to school tomorrow), my last session ever with my wonderful counselor (who I've been seeing for over four years), and goodbyes to several of my closest friends. Last night I had to say goodbyes to even more friends. Lots of tears. They'd start crying which would lead me to cry which would lead them to more tears. Today I also said goodbye and hugged T.S. I will talk to her before I go and during, but we will not be together again until she and Sporty visit much later in the year. That's a long time to miss a child you care deeply for! Especially when she's about to start a life adventure and I really want to be there for her. Email, letters and short phone calls will have to be the communication form for a long while. 

I've started to notice that I'm kind of detaching a bit. Notice I mentioned that others cried first. Perhaps this is a continued sign of the stress.

Speaking of stress, I woke myself up as I was sleep walking last night. I have no memory of ever sleep walking before in my life. Luckily, nothing bad at all occurred. Let us hope that is the first and last time for that behavior!

Tomorrow I take the train to my other home by school and leave this place I call home for at least 10 months. I say goodbye to my mom and stepdad and know it will be at least six months before they are planning a visit to see me. Unlike my friends, they won't be crying. That's just not how they handle these things. The next three weeks or longer will be a good excuse for another vodka gimlet for my mom and another two cheeseburgers  every night for my stepdad and hours upon end of sitting on the couch not talking while playing each other and all their friends night after night on Words with Friends with the television so loud but no one is looking at it because even at their age, their noses are in their tablets playing games. That is how they deal with life and stress. At least these days. I suppose in their heads they can't even think that it's a last, because they are unable to consider the reality of what is about to happen to me. They've asked almost no questions. They've done no research on their own. They've also told no one and are mortified that I have. I do no wear their shame of me. I am not ashamed. My life was out of my control and today I'm grateful that I got caught. Otherwise, I wouldn't even exist anymore.

Anyway, with all the "lasts" I've done lately, I'm so glad they are not forever. I have no idea what's waiting for me in and after prison. I won't even guess. But my friends, hometowns, school, and even dysfunctional family will still be around while I'm away and when I'm back. It will be up to me to ensure I make the relationships with them "last forever" rather than just be a "last."

Trying on Bras

On the commissary list for Carswell, it lists the type of bras, underwear, and shoes I will have at the facility. I don't imagine shoe salesman lining up waiting for me to say, "I'd like to try a 6 and a 6 1/2" or a dressing room to find the right bra fit. So, I'm going shopping today. Not to purchase anything, but to try on the stuff that I will need to know my sizes in.

I'm not one of those women that easily knows her size due to the fact that I'm a plus size person. While small, medium, and large tend to run about the same universally, the extra large sixes do not. Sometimes I am a XL and sometimes amazingly a XXXL - usually a XXL in my tops. But we are not allowed to wear clothing that is too baggy and I despise skin tight clothing. A too tight bra would be the worst!

However, stress and my health have also caused me weight loss. A good thing, but makes me even more unsure of my size. Last night at my pinning, my pants kept inching down due to being too big on me - oops!

So here's my plan for this afternoon. I'm going to look at the packages for Hanes brief underwear and figure out my size. Next, I will try on Hanes sport bras and figure out my size. As for shoes, I need to find my exact size in Reebok classic nylon and K-Swiss (once at prison they may only have one in stock). I will also try on isotoner slippers (in case I have enough commissary $$ to purchase them). I am unable to try on tshirts, sweatpants, sweatshirt, shorts, boots, or thermal clothing in advance, because the commissary list does not provide brand names.

One thing I am looking to purchase in advance is a small digital watch on a Velcro strap. The commissary list has a Timex ironman and a Casio analog watch. After talking with the prison, if I come in with a similar watch, I may be able to keep it. I'm looking to get something like the Timex one because I'd prefer something sporty with an alarm built in. No need to buy an alarm clock that way. Nothing fancy. Likely much cheaper to bring in with me, than spend $42.50 out of my commissary fund.

I'm starting my day at kohl's. They should have most items. Being able to prepare in this way is yet one more advantage of self surrender!

5 Year Pinning

In the GA program, certain milestones receive "pinnings." They are available for 1 year, 5 years, 10 years, and each 5 years following. Regions do them a little different. Whomever is being pinned, can make a lot of decisions for what happens at their pinning. Tonight was my 5 year celebration of recovery. I've spent a while preparing for it... Deciding whom to ask to do each of the program roles: chair, combo book readings, walk-through, day at a time reading, gam-anon reading, business, speakers, pinning, invocation, etc. I made electronic presentations for during dinner, during the readings, and during my speech (which lasted about 30 minutes). I designed a printed program and a bookmark for all the guest. But I love doing all these things and in reality, I did the easy work. Survivor ordered and put together food for 80-100 people and brought practically half her kitchen to the location - now that's the hard work. Wow! I am always amazed by the lengths my friends will go to to help and support me.

The message of my speech is that even in recovery, we face hard things, but facing them in recovery, allows us to face them head on and then move forward. It is about hope. I ended with this quote:

I really like that quote, because if we choose despair instead of hope in our dark days, our days will only get darker. That is what feeds our addiction.

I was amazed to see that several people brought gifts to the pinning as well. Call me strange, but I did kind of look at them funny, I mean, I'm about to self surrender and can't bring anything. Well, most of the envelopes had cash or gift cards. More that what most people would likely receive. Like, wow! And all the gifts were incredibly appropriate and given with thought. One gift stood out, as it is a white hat with a dragonfly and "Dragonfly Hazel" sewn into it. I will cherish all my gifts, but that cap is really unique!

So, what does my pinning have to do with my going to prison? I just told a room of nearly 100 individuals my story - not just of the devastation of an addiction, but the promises of recovery. I focused on the fact that life does not get perfect or even easy after surrendering to GA, but with the tools to face our consequences face on, we can keep our hope!

20 Days

I'm procrastinating. I know, I shouldn't. But I am. I have about 6 boxes packed and I'm leaving town in the morning to head to my hometown to have my G.A. 5 year pinning (celebration of recovery). I'll be gone 4 days. Perhaps spending time with my best friends will help me get motivated to get through my long list in my red notebook so I can move out of my apartment on time, get assignments done, and finalize all my planning. I've had a pleasant distraction of guests for several days. I've been able to help them out and distract myself from my needs. Not a healthy plan, but sometimes a break is necessary.

So, I imagine I'm not the only procrastinator out here. So, some ideas... Back to my red notebook. Never put it down. Even if I have five minutes free. I can be making a phone call or sending an email. Ask for help. Don't let your ego get in the way. Ask what you need help for. For me, it's both packing and moving. I even asked people for boxes. Mind as well save $. Prioritize with deadlines. Things can't just move to tomorrow because some things require a certain advance notice. Make sure you are on top of those. And don't forget - get those legal documents drafted!!!

Meal Planning

With my parents in town for a couple days, they inquired on what restaurants I wanted to eat at, often indicating that I should enjoy some good meals out while I can. I settled on a Greek diner, a deli, a campus eatery, and a movie theatre to watch a movie that serves dinner food. My parents kept asking, "are you sure?" While we all enjoyed our meals.

I realize that I am soon going to have very limited meal options. Steak will not be available, nor will good seafood. But I don't just want to eat that kind if food just to eat it. Why should we eat expensive, when I'm not really all that hungry these days anyway? Plus, everywhere we went, had really good food.

I've decided not to stuff my mouth with food that I'm just eating because I happen to be going to prison. A special event, of course. But not for Thursday night dinner. Going to prison is not an excuse for me to splurge financially or gourmet.

Just Don't Look Weak

My stepdads grand advice for me for going to prison is not to cry - at least not during my first week. In fact, he would like me to keep my head down and not look at anyone at all. Of course I'm sure bumping into folks is out of the question too, so I might have to look straight ahead of me sometimes.

This isn't just my stepdads advice, the advice of not showing weakness is fairly constant. I've even blogged about having to be strong. But truth is, we also can't be people we are not. I still believe we can't trust easily and we do need to be strong, but prison is bound to be an emotional experience. Keeping it kept entirely inside makes me think too much about the emotional hiding I did as an addict. Perhaps not everyone is safe to see our pain, but in our letters, emails, phone calls, the chaplain, in our recovery groups, our counselor, someone. We need to trust someone. Keeping a fake strong persona and in reality hurting is a person I never want to become again.

So when people give me the advice, I know they mean well and they want the best for me. They are worried about me. I don't need to explain everything I just wrote in this blog. I simply need to say, "thank you," as I will consider their suggestion.

At least in my case, it is weaker for me to be hiding my pain, than to share it. It takes a lot of strength to be able to do that.

Birthdays

If birthdays are supposed to be one of the best days of the year for each of us, then somehow, I missed the memo. Not that every birthday I've had was bad. I had kid parties roller skating, sleep overs, other fun I'm sure. I remember my sweet 16 was pretty grand (before I moved out). But, since my birthday falls in mid winter and I grew up in the Midwest, I also had more than one of my childhood parties snowed out, there even was a blizzard once. My birthday was close enough to the holidays that I would sometimes get the gift with the card saying "this is for Chanukah and your birthday." By the time I was a young adult, I decided that if I wanted a good birthday, I had to make it happen for myself.

For many years, I had success. Then on my 25th bday, my friends "kid napped" me and tried to confuse me on where we were going and we ended up at a large casino, a state away. They knew what I liked to do. They handed me an envelope of money that they and many of my law school buddies had donated into, and told me to have fun. I proceeded to lose the several hundred dollars in that envelope so fast, that I quickly walked to the restroom to regroup. I found an ATM far off where no one could see me withdrawing money, pulled out more than they had given me ($ I could not afford to lose) and started playing again. Friends found me, saw my pile of money and I told them I'd won. The only thing I actually won was paying the highest ATM fees for all the withdrawals I would do.

Birthdays at casinos became a ritual. In my mind, at least I wasn't alone. I sure didn't care what the weather was outside. I tried a birthday outside a casino when I was turning 27. I was totally in love for the first time in my life. They broke up with me ON my birthday. Then tried staying best friends with me for years. That was a mess.

I traveled to Las Vegas for my 30th birthday. I had a bunch of friends with me. I was being pushed around in a wheel chair due to a recent knee surgery. But actually, I remember practically nothing about turning 30, 31, 32, 33, or 34,... They were nights of gambling. In reality no different than any other night of the year except I could tell strangers around a table that it was my birthday or I'd be offered a free beverage and I'd get a Virgin Mary (never wanting to become a drinker).

At 35, my birthday fell just weeks after that "Big Win," and the obsession of numbers and winning in my head was never ending. My partner told me that we were going on a road trip and I got super excited- believing we would be staying at the new casino hotel about an hour north of our home. As we drove, that was not where we went. I started to get angry. Then I started to get bitter and frustrated. Why couldn't we go to the casino, I thought? Q knew I loved to gamble, why would Q take me anywhere else? Turns out that Q had actually been thinking fun, and put us up in a small town we had referred to numerous times. It had only one motel, one bar, etc. I didn't appreciate it. That night when we walked around, I fed my addiction by finding pull tabs at the bar (and won unfortunately) making me believe that Q should have just taken me to the casino. It was just months later that Q and I were history, as was my gambling, as was that life.

Once in recovery, birthdays became special. I spent them with people I cared about, but they did not have to be big or flashy. I also started a tradition of giving small gifts on my birthday. Sure, it is fun to receive gifts, but I love giving gifts. It's a thank you for spending my day with me. 

My last two birthdays have been a bit tough. 2012 occurred just two days after yet another right knee ACL tear. I was laid up on my couch and on crutches. Friends came anyway! 2013 occurred as I was taking my comprehensive exams for my PhD. We do these by ourselves, 5 days straight, writing essays. I was able to step away for both lunch and dinner with different friends. Not long and no bday cake, but it didn't matter. It did not have to be special.

In 2014, my birthday will be in prison. If I have prison friends, they may make me a cake (somehow they do it with commissary supplies and the micro) or maybe not. It doesn't really matter. My birthday does not need to be special, flashy, or anything any more. I do not need to be surrounded by others to know that I'm loved or I matter. I do not need to cry because people failed to call me on my bday. I don't need cakes or gifts. I just need a moment to close my eyes and be grateful that I have been given this second chance. My birthday will forever be about giving back, not about taking.

Parents

I haven't mentioned my folks much in this blog. It's not intentional. Truth is that my relationship was strained with my parents most of my life. They are divorced, married to different spouses (but still share the same anniversary date - long story) and live about 1,500 miles away from one another (which I'm not sure is far enough). My father is actually very I'll at the moment, just two days prior to my sentencing, he had a stroke as he was in the hospital recovering from bladder cancer treatment. He knew what was happening to me before his stroke and was supporting me, but now he is not able to put his thoughts into words well and he doesn't enjoy talking on the phone anymore. His doctors told my stepmother that news of my imprisonment could cause another stroke because he still needs surgery to clear his arteries. I hate lying to him.

My mother and I are very similar in possibly the wrong ways and incredibly different in most ways. Where she appreciates beauty, I appreciate intelligence. Where she appreciates makeup, I appreciate natural. Where she appreciates a lot of alcohol, I refused it to avoid becoming her. I didn't know gambling could take me to the same places. Family secrets most likely started much higher than my mom, but the skill of a public and silent private life I saw in my mom. We never talked of childhood abuse. My home wasn't safe to talk openly about bad things happening. They were kept inside like we did something wrong. Appearance and reputation was everything. My mother mastered passive aggressiveness and sometimes just aggressiveness. I mastered passiveness. My sister mastered just aggressiveness. My sisters acted out. I acted in. My mom understood my sister, she did not understand me. My dad left our family when I was about 13. I left our family when I was about 16. No one ever tried to bring me home.

When I was 35 and my world fell apart, my private gambling world having been public ally exposed and being accused of the crime I am about to go in for, I went home. For the first time in my life, my mom and my step father were there for me at the time when I needed them the most. It no longer mattered what had happened over those past 35 years - you can't change the past - but one day at a time, my mom and I built an amazing relationship.

We started to see ways we were similar. Similar likes and dislikes. Similar facial expressions. Similar ways of handling issues. I lived in her home for six months, but even after my life started to come together, we talked nearly every day. We still do. This week, she and my step dad (who is pretty amazing) are coming for a night to see me. Over the 19 years I lived away from them in the past, I rarely had a visit from them.

I'm not saying it's perfect. My mom still drinks. Her priorities can still be quite questionable. She sometimes throws those hostile words at me that I used to believe. But now I see that it is her illness. I know she us hurting. I won't enable her, but I can love her. I gain her respect by not being passive nor aggressive. I speak my truth and give her time to reflect.

Neither of my parents may ever say they are sorry for the reality of my youth. I don't need them to anymore. I feel sorry for them, because now I know what it's like to carry around the guilt of having done something wrong. They are my parents. They are aging. I choose to keep them in my life. I'm glad my world falling apart gave me the chance to establish healthier boundaries.

If I can be an example of staying clean, I can survive the prison scene

The title is actually a take on a great Macklemore song called, "Starting Over," where he raps about his relapse from 3 1/2 years of sobriety. In it he says, "if I can be an example of staying sober, I can be an example of starting over."

My version doesn't work perfectly, because the second clause shouldn't be about my survival, but something I can be an example of by doing my time in prison. I just couldn't make it work perfectly. I can write about it here, though.

Any addiction recovery is hard, it's really hard. Relapse happens often and/or like Macklemore says in his song, they try to stay clean/sober on their own without a program. Inevitably, life does not get better and the old urges become too much too handle. Our brains play tricks on us and choice to say "no" becomes less and less possible. Access to our vice, or to a new vice (switching addictions) occurs, and we have to start at day 1 once again. I've heard these stories so many times. Breaks my heart, but I'm so glad they come back to their programs, ready to do something different, something more, this time.

I have been fortunate each day since May, 2008. Each day I have promised myself that I'm not going to gamble today and each day I have kept that promise. My GA program is a part of my life and I never intend to try to do it on my own, no matter how many years clean I have. I never want to be that person again.

So, what can I be an example of in prison? I can be an example of someone who understands addiction. Understands the urges. Understands the reality that it leads to three realities - prison, insanity, and/or death. Understands crime to feed addiction. Understands withdrawal. Understands when people feel alone because others do not understand or support them. Understands losing everything. 

I also understand and am an example of the hope of recovery. Rebuilding our lives. Second or third or fifth chances. Rebuilding relationships. Finding healthy relationships. Putting recovery first. Not giving up. Refusing to accept dead ends, and just see them as speed bumps. 

If I can be an example of staying clean, I can survive the prison scene! I just have to be myself. Find ways I connect with others and keep to my beliefs.

iPhone No Phone

I love my phone. I loved my basic cell phone. I loved my android phone. Now I love my iPhone. I use it for everything it was meant to be used for - calls, music, calendar, applications, data, email, Internet, even writing this blog (ergo the quick finger spelling mistakes). I haven't worn a watch in years because my phone is my watch, alarm clock, and cooking timer. I even use Siri as my assistant. Parting with my phone will be difficult. I will have to learn to once again fall asleep without technology being the last thing I am reading from.

I did research on my options on what I should do while incarcerated. I did not want to break my contract and have to pay $250. I did not want to lose my phone number I've had for years. But, I cannot afford to maintain my phone at its level while I  incarcerated.

I service through Verizon, so I cannot account for any other services out there. Verizon has some options I am considering. They allow users to suspend service for 90 days at a time up to 2x during a year. They can be back to back. So my first 6 months, my line will be suspended, which is good because it is doubtful I will be sent to a half way house during that time. 

Before I leave for prison, I will transfer my service to someone's old Verizon phone that they don't use any more. One that is not a smart phone. Therefore, when my service is turned back on, I could have it turned on to the lowest level service available and have it paid out of the funds I am saving for the remaining months on my imprisonment. Once I am allowed to utilize the phone again, I will transfer back to my iPhone and I'm able to reconnect again. My Verizon contract will be extended for the 6 months I suspended my plan, but I am not planning on leaving them anyway.

My financial coach, Survivor, has all my Verizon information in order to ensure she can do the second suspension while I'm inside. These are the kinds of things we have to prepare for. Make a list of every bill you pay and figure out whether you need to make special arrangements, like with your cell phone.

Doing Right for our Kids

I've mentioned before, I think, that I don't have any biological kids of my own. It's a long story on why that is. However, I love kids and I've helped raise some kids over the years. One of these kids, T.S., is the closest thing to a daughter I will ever have. I'm incredibly proud of her. She is bright, kind, giving, helpful, and not trying to be too grown up before she has to be. She is 18 years old and about to go to college. She was admitted to many universities, but she wanted to go where I am, before any of us knew that I would be going to prison, so she selected to go out of state to my university to start her studies.

I made T.S. a lot of promises I cannot keep now that I'm going to prison. I'd told her that I would take her out to dinner once a week. I told her that she could enjoy a bath once in a while in my bath tubs (the residence halls only have showers and she loves baths). I told her I would help purchase her school books. I told her I could take her places. I told her I would help get stuff for her dorm room. I told her many things, but most importantly, I told her I WOULD BE HERE FOR HER! Now I won't be.

T.S. is fairly mature, having gone through more than her share of life events at a young age, but she is still 18 and when someone who is a parent figure in your life makes promises (even if they don't say the word promise) we cannot let them down. Not if we want any chance of coming back to a positive relationship after prison.

First, I've never lied to T.S. Since she was old enough to understand, she's known that I could be arrested at some point and why.

Second, when I realized I was going to prison, I spoke honestly with T.S. and hoped she could understand. She said she did, and most young people will claim to.

Third, I found surrogates to fill my roles with all of my promises. Granted, her mom has to fill some of them, but my friends offered their bathtub, multiple friends of mine friended T.S. on Facebook and told me that if T.S. needs anything while I am gone, they will help her out. I met a professor who can help her find tutoring if she needs it. Her cousin already promised her to help with decorating her dorm room. T.S. is going to be well taken care of in my absence. At 18, and soon to be 19, years old, at least that care doesn't have to be 24/7.

I write about this because we can't forget about the promises we made to our kids or the children in our lives. They may depend on those promises. Our lives are upside down, but don't take it out on the innocent ones being left behind. Knowing they are still living their lives in the best possible way should bring you some happiness while doing your time.

Independence Day

Yes, July 4th has come and gone for this year. For me, I had a nice day. I spent it with Sporty, we mostly organized things around my home and then went and found a random place to eat tacos from a mobile truck and watch the city fireworks overhead. It was actually quite perfect. I haven't really been in much of a festive mood but that night just kind of fell together the right way.

In this blog, though, I'm not talking about that Independence Day, I'm talking about the other one, the day of freedom, the day we are released from prison. I was curious exactly how "good time" was calculated. I was told that my sentence of one year and a day made me eligible for good time resulting in 10 months. I was curious how that was calculated.

Turns out that it actually has some controversy, as the DOP calculates it as less time off than the statute originally intended. What it turns out to calculate to is the following days of imprisonment for every 356 days sentenced:

319 days

It is 319 days from the start date to the end date, but not including the end date

Or 10 months, 15 days excluding the end date

Alternative time units

319 days can be converted to one of these units:

27,561,600 seconds

459,360 minutes

7656 hours

319 days

45 weeks (rounded down)

I was thinking I might have difficulty tracking days of the week inside, I promise I will not be tracking hours, minutes, or seconds! It is interesting to know that given my sentence, those are my exact number of days though - 319!

So, I decided to use a date calendar and see what my proposed day of independence would be. There are a lot of free websites that allow you to put in dates and calculate the number of days between. So, I put the start at 8/19 and kept moving around the end date. I thought that my 10 months would end in June, but 45 weeks is actually longer than 10 months. It is 10 months 15 days.

Wouldn't you know it... 319 days from the day I self surrender - July 4, 2014. I suppose next years Independence Day and each one after "may" have an extra special meaning! I'm not sure if they will actually release someone on a federal holiday, but that's the date, I kid you not.