Logging a Full Day at FMC Carswell

(Handwritten 9/9/13 - added to blog much later and backdated to correct date)

The following is 12 double-sided pages (24 pages) which start at 4:45 am and the last entry is at 10:45pm.

4:45am

Wake-up on own; stretch painful joints

4:55am

get out of bed to go to restroom. Bump into South on way out of room. She has a 4:50am laundry time & must wake early on Mondays in order to do her laundry for the week. Everyone seems to have at least one bad laundry time (Mine is 11:30pm on Wed.)

5:00am

Back from restroom where I see women who work in the kitchen already getting ready for the day. I give my booklight to South because she now needs to stay awake in order to move her laundry to dryer in 30 min & then take her clothes out of dryer later. Although there is no complete darkness here, it is still too dark to read where her bed is situated. I try to go back to sleep, but 2 roommate alarms go off several times over the next half hour. Instead, I stretch my muscles & joints while laying in bed. Officers do bed checks.

5:45am

One of my roommates starts speaking in her regular voice (ignoring that some are asleep) to another roommate. Lockers bang as some roommates start to prepare for the day.

5:53am

All the lights in the unit are turned on 7 minutes early by an inmate, pissing off one of my roommates who screams, "It's not even 6am yet."

6:00am

Chatter - people are using the restrooms, showers, and standing around in large open space downstairs. Constant noise seeps into room. People are waiting for door to be unlocked for breakfast - a walk to the main building & down to the chow hall. I usually do not go to breakfast and today I remain in bed (writing this). Loud announcement about male and female officers.

6:10am

Chatter stops indicating the offer unlocked the door. Now noise is bathrooms and roommates getting ready only. All roommates are awake, but not all are getting ready, yet. Almost all of us shower at night or during the day, so getting ready is a fairly quick change of clothes into our uniforms.

6:18am

South hands me my watch. On Sunday nights she borrows it so she can wake at 4:35am for her laundry use. She is done now. She & Danbury go through the laundry to find a couple items owned by Danbury (who does not have a laundry time yet). As people wake and leave the room, their beds are completely made - in case of inspection. We must wear shoes at all times when off our beds, so shower shoes (crocks or old flip flops) are usually worn in the room & within  the unit. Sneakers for leaving the unit. Carswell is the only institution I know of that does not require steel toed shoes - except for certain jobs.

My very young roommate uses the railings of the bed to dry and hang her stuff - her locker is overflowing, so I always find a towel, shirt, socks, and even her mirror hanging onto my bed or having fallen onto my bed by morning. She never apologizes. I have to pick my battles with her and her volatile reaction to everything keeps my mouth silent. Sometimes South throws the young one's stuff back on her bed for me. No one gives South a hard time because of her age and grey hair. Everyone but Danbury and I calls her "Grandma." For some it is a sign of respect, for others it is a sign that she is easily taken advantage of because of her age. But South is smart and doesn't do what she doesn't want to (although she's a bit too generous to people who want things without anything in return). I call her by her first name - because she is a friend and because I want to acknowledge her as an individual - not just one of the several women over 60 who live here (going to the chow hall you hear "grandma" frequently toward anyone a little older). 

6:30am

South is making her bed. She informs me that she will wash my blanket later in the week. Last night the young roommate was 'cooking' and using Mayo and "accidentally" sprayed it across the room. It landed all over the floor and also on South's top sheets and blanket. The young one was informed that she needed to wash the sheets/blanket - which must be a separate load than our clothes which take up the full washer. The young one did have laundry yesterday, but did her girlfriend's laundry, instead of South's bedding. Not cool. She never even talked to South about it. So South will need to beg for another laundry time or wait 4 days til her other laundry time, to get them done. I sleep with only my sheet on me these days, so I have South my blanket last night to use. I am fine with it. Although I am pissed that the little one got away with having no responsibility. As said earlier, we must choose our battles - this girl likes to fight! 

6:50am

South and I sit on our bunks and whisper. Danbury returns from ironing her uniform. She uses the trashcan upside down to sit since she has a top bunk. She says, "another fu**ing day down." Silently, South and I just not our heads. South informed me that I tossed and turned all night. I'm not surprised due to the stiffness & pain in my joints. Rocker, another roommate, falls asleep. She couldn't sleep all night, but falls asleep with all the background noise. South says Rocker has her nights & days  messed up. With no outside window, I can see how that could happen.

Danbury, South, and I sit quietly watching all the morning movement to/from the restroom through our big window and open door. South and Danbury drink coffee.  The little one enters, having ironed her girlfriend's clothing and tries to look cute as she goes to work her "extra duty" of 50 hours that she earned for being caught in her girlfriend's room last week. She has many 'friends' and is constantly being social. South tells me to just stay in bed all day. I have no call-outs today. She has one - getting her vitals checked for the 16th time since her arrival one month ago. One day, they checked her vitals three times. No one, not even the nurse checking them, knows why South gets a call out every other day for vitals. 

The  little one came to the room, took her soap so she could wash her girlfriend's mug and then gave it to her girlfriend. It sickens South and I because she is a slave to her much older girlfriend who does nothing in return.

 7:00am

Hust, another roommate, comes in speaking in her regular voice, waking Rocker. The little one comes in too. Hust made a deal with our room last night, she will clean everyday if we each give her something for the week - a ramen, ranch dressing, batteries, a hug, anything! To stop the tension around cleaning, we all agreed, except ID, who refuses to really clean or pretty much do anything for the room. For some reason, though, the Little One starts cleaning the room now. The light flicks on in our room, causing Rocker to officially wake. No one warns of turning on/off our room light - whether we are reading, sleeping, etc. Respect for the others does not exist. Every time South or I do it, we count "1-2-3" to warn others, but no such warning back.

7:05am

Danbury realizes that the officer trying to help her get a 'real' mattress is not on duty for a couple days. The need for 'real' mattresses, especially by those of us on medical, becomes a real issue that gets rather frustrating as our requests can be ignored, forgotten, or promises that never come through are given.

7:20am

The little one loves to wear headphones with her Mp3 player and sign out loud, even though she cannot hold a tune. I'm "needing" to leave this room. I'm grabbing my uniform, so I can go out.

7:40am

I am in my uniform, but can not leave the unit for an hour. Our current C.O. gave passes early, so I am late for this hour. I have to wait until 8:45am for a pass to email. I just finished the Jonathan Kellerman book I was reading, so I am without a book at the moment. This is one of the biggest differences between a camp and being here. Here we can't "move" until there is a 10-minute "open move" - in a camp there is an "open campus" for hours at a time. I look at the camp across the street and the women can take long walks and be out and about, except for formal "count" times.

7:45am

Rocker tells Danbury that the new federal law about past actions being forgiven will apply in her home state. I explain that state law and federal law are two separate systems and the state does not follow the federal criminal code. Rocker argues with me and I just give up. She does not realize I have a J.D. and know what I am talking about. She constantly says things that are untrue. South and I have already learned to double-check any information Rocker says to us. 85% of the time, Rocker is mistaken. It gets exhausting because she will argue her side forever, even when proven to be wrong. Here, my knowledge is not honored by most. I've just kept my mouth closed mostly, but I like Danbury and I don't want her believing something that is untrue. Conversation ended when Danbury had to leave for a "call-out" to the labs.

When Rocker leaves to go watch a movie in the chapel, South and I get an opportunity to have the room to ourselves. We are both drained by this time in the morning. The drama, conversations, and constant noise (as well as well as the overhead lights) are all mentally draining. At least once a day we look at each other and can't believe we are here. 

8:05am

Rocker comes back in the room. She couldn't get a pass. I finally look at how she dressed this morning - she's wearing one of the uniform "dresses" - which look more basic and uglier than an amish dress. It is like overalls on top with no style as it goes almost down to the ankles - straight down except for a large pocket on each side. At the bottom, inmates must wear socks & gym shoes or their boots. A t-shirt is worn under.

I drew a picture - I think you get the idea. It is not flattering on anyone!!! I do not have one. 

Rocker is talking about how many "partners" her kids have children with. Most out of marriage. She has six grandkids. Most of her family is currently also in prison as part of the same offense. A random woman walks in and asks for a dust pan. We don't have one. All of us have to search for cleaning supplies when we need them.

8:45am

Wake from a nap. Going to get a pass and go to email. Can't believe I slept with so much noise. Hust and the little one are in the room. Spanish music is playing out of headphones loud enough for the whole room.

9:00am

Arrive in email room. I like mornings because there is no line.

9:44am

Finish email. I had one message and sent out about seven. I also printed five mailing labels. No open movement yet, so I stand near the doors leading out of the building.

9:55am

Arrive back at my unit after passing South on walk back. She's heading to get her vitals checked. I walk in 1 South and pass a woman who flirts every time she sees me. I say, "hi," and keep walking, showing no interest. She must be on something, because she is always smiling and says she's "wonderful." Walk to the line to return passes and "thank" the C.O. I do not hear a lot of "thank you's" around here. Then I walk past the phones (all used plus line) and past the 10 tables set up in the atrium between four silent tv's where women sit listening to the television of their choice with their radios and headphones and work on crafts. Freckles is there and sometimes I'll talk with her, but I choose to turn and go up the 24 metal stairs to the second floor.

Only Danbury is in our room. She is reading but decides to take a nap. I like quiet moments in the room like this - except for the constant mumble of sound from elsewhere on the unit. Someone will also scream, drop something, yell names from downstairs to upstairs non-stop. It becomes like white noise in here. I've napped through it all.

10:00am

I always lock my locker when I'm gone. I have finally memorized all my #'s - locker, email, phone, registration, and even South's locker (I help her open it). I open my locker and pull out my water bottle. I always have ice and/or water in it. It says my name, as Hurst had a paint marker and put it on it.

10:05am

Hurst comes into the room. She has made up her bed with a bed set crocheted for her - with her name and it goes with the Dallas Cowboys theme. It looks nice. Nearly everyone with much time here gets a bed-set - either they make it or they hire someone to do one. I don't know how to crochet. Hust just promised me the cotton blanket she was using. It is softer than our given blankets and looks like one I use at home from my mother. She hasn't given me the blanket yet. 

Hust gets her stuff ready for a shower - we all grab showers when we can. There are about eight working stalls each upstairs and downstairs - for the 260 or so of us. The showers are not too bad and we have real doors on them (not curtains) and most the doors lock. Hust asks if I will be here so she does not have to lock her locker. People steal if they think they can get away with it. Since South, Danbury or I are usually here (at least one of us), our room is pretty secure. I have about 2-2 ½ hours until lunch now. In 15 minutes there will be “inmate recall” where almost everyone needs to return to their unit. We then just wait until our time to be called for lunch. Our cleaning got us 7^th out of 8 for this week, so we wait longer than 6 other units.

 10:15am

I lay down and just “think.” I also do leg exercises. I am now in my uniform pants with t-t-shirt untucked. As soon as anyone spends time in the unit, we take off our button down shirt, hang it, and untuck our t-shirt. Some go into their shorts or sweats. But I’m planning on lunch, so I just do the top shirt.

10:25am

Hust is back from her shower and dresses into her uniform. She is neat as she gets ready – laundry into her laundry bag (kept under the bunk bed), towel rehung, etc. We don’t ever leave the room with a mess. Well, sometimes little one and ID does, but the rest of us don’t.

10:30am

Inmate Recall. The noise in the unit increases 3-fold as everyone comes in. Danbury’s nap is about to end due to the noise.

10:35am

ID and Rocker enter the room. ID shuts off the lights as she enters, even though the bus stop lights are supposed to be on all day – she cares about nothing and nobody. Makes no difference that I am writing. She and Rocker start talking in regular voices even though Danbury is asleep.

10:40am

Hust comes in and turns on the light. ID is pissed, but she does not fight with Hust. No one does. If anyone else turns on the light, ID throws a fit! I thank Hust for turning the light on. She says nothing in return.

10:45am

Rocker and Hust start fighting verbally in Spanish. Only thing I understand is when they use each other’s names in English, Hust says that Rocker should help cook their lunch. She asks Rocker to reserve the microwave and help out instead of going to the Chapel to watch movies. Little quips like this happen all day long.

ID is pissed that Hust walked out but left the light on. She is passive-aggressive and says, “I’m tired as shit and I want to go to bed.” But, she is sitting on her bed reading. When she lays back, she continues to complain about the light – although I am writing and Hust is coming in and out singing to herself. Yesterday, Hust complained about tension in the room. I can say three of us are just observers to it all. ID walked out of the room, told Hust she wants the lights off.

10:50am

ID walks back in the room and turns the lights off yet again. Three of us are up doing things, but she wants to sleep. I am very tempted to turn the lights on. But I don’t. These women are not afraid of using their fists, lying, and setting up others to get in trouble to get their way.

10:52am

Rocker turns her headphones up loud enough that everyone can hear Spanish music. The noise outside my room & screaming of names is constant. South comes in. I tell her why the lights are off. She tells me that if this keeps up, she is going to ask to be moved. “Me too.” Although I already requested, but there are no beds. I wish I could record the amount of noise going on right now.

Still 1 ½ hours til lunch and we are all stuck here. I’m heading to the bathroom (must bring my own toilet paper).

11:00am

I give what I’ve written so far to South to read. She agrees I’ve caught the essence of being here. Hust screams, “Why are you whispering?” I whisper that people are sleeping. She says loudly that no one let her sleep yesterday. Then she asks South why she’s reading in the dark and gets off her bunk and turns the lights back on and walks out of the room.

At that, Danbury gets up and is shocked she slept for an hour. So am I, given the constant drama & lights on/off for the last hour!

11:10am

Insulin and short line are called to lunch. They are always first and we go about 45 minutes to an hour later. We are told it’s going to be chicken wraps, so we look forward to lunch today. I’m hungry as I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’m out of any commissary breakfast food.

11:15am

ID wakes and is pissed that the lights are once again on. South is making herself instant coffee. Hust walks back in. ID keeps making faces and is bitching quietly to herself. South and I just look at each other and shake our heads and understand one another perfectly. 

Everyone is up now except ID and Rocker. Tocker is still listening to her music and rocking herself to sleep. She always “rocks” – also her hand is always down her pants – this is not a ‘hidden’ action. South and I can’t figure why she has her hand down her pants or why she rocks, but there you go – that’s what she does. ID continues to bitch about the lights. No one responds.

South informs me that there is a “story” around Hust and the new bedding. I’ll learn it when we head out to lunch. Danbury carries our condiments bag to me and asks if we need it for lunch. We three (South, Danbury, and I) share condiments purchased from commissary. I say, “yes” as the chili garlic sauce or mayo may be good.

11:25am

ID finally sits up. She needs to go to somewhere to fix her email. Danbury tells us that they took 8 vials of blood this morning from her – no one is close to the 26 vials they took from me. She can’t figure out why they didn’t take her cumadin levels – the reason she’s here – typical. South isn’t being treated for Lupus or COPD and I’m not getting my most important medication. Chi can’t get her cast off, even though her arm cast should have been removed last week. Oh well. As always, South and I are just grateful to have someone here that understands.

11:30am

ID’s friend walks in the room (we are not allowed in anyone else’s room) and she talks to ID. Now ID talks loud even though Hust and Rocker are sleeping. Hust is called to switch her clothes from washer to dryer. With such limited time, we constantly hear that someone needs to do something with their laundry. ID finally leaves the room.

Hust sees our condiments in the sad plastic bag we are holding them in. She says she will find us a bag that closes. I’ll believe it when I see it. Danbury starts talking to Hust about the fact that she can’t get a laundry time. She keeps being told there are no open times. Unacceptable – she’s been here a week & has no laundry time. Not cool. Hust then asks if the little one has done South’s laundry yet. Nope. Totally irresponsible.

Danbury, South, & I talk. Danbury talks about how our “asses” get no “air” time and get pimples. Ha!

12:00 noon

I decide to get away from the room’s tension and South and I head downstairs to wait for our “chow” call. Danbury joins us and we join up with Freckles. Freckles and I talk books and James Patterson. We enjoy sharing novels. She is currently reading the Jodi Piccult novel I finished a couple days ago. She wants my recent Patterson book next. Next we talked about how we go about getting medical clearance. We know we need to see a nurse on the 18^th, so Freckles, South, and I are planning on going together. It’s called a 413 – but I’m not sure what “413” exactly stands for. Medical redesignation is “409.” Oh well, we then talk Piper Kerman and the book, “Orange is the new Black.” I’m the only among us who has seen the movie on Netflix and read the book – others read the book. Danbury explains that the women she knows that were serving with with Piper call her a “brat” – as she got a lot of mail and visitors. This reminded me how Hust called me a “brat” a couple days ago. All I was doing at the time was quietly reading in my bed. She didn’t say “why” she called me it at the time, but since I just heard that was said about Piper Kerman and thought, “I guess that’s me.” I get a lot of mail and am expecting Sporty to visit next weekend. I think there is a big difference from someone who is here for violent acts and those of us here for medical designation only. We may have more outside support – although had I been incarcerated 5 years ago, I would have no one. So, I had the benefit of time too.

Finally, we all talked about self-surrender as we got “called” finally to the Chow Hall. Danbury could not believe that South and I were never officially arrested – we showed up everywhere on our own via letters and our attorney requests. She’d never heard of that – she’s been incarcerated several times and never heard anyone say the same. Odd. She almost seemed upset.

12:25pm

Finally, we are called to lunch. The mad rush of 200+ people exiting one door when the C.O. unlocked it. I’m slow, so I am usually toward the rear. For a big change, the line inside the main building for the “chow hall” was short and quick to get inside. They did have chicken wraps, but they also had cheese wraps and I’ve been craving real cheese. There was also potato salad, cream of mushroom soup, and green beans. We made everything tastier with our salt, pepper, sazon, and/or garlic chili sauce. I only fully ate the wrap.

12:55pm

We are back at our unit. South and I want to go to the law library, but we are reminded to get passes first. Good thing, because there was an official closed campus count later and we would have gotten “shots” if we didn’t have one.

1:00pm

Sign in to law library terminal and look up whatever I can find on security and medical designations. South and I look through several policy documents online. I want to find some information for Danbury, based on her state criminal charges and the state code, but only federal information is available here. We are ready to leave when all areas are locked down for the closed census count. Many people received “shots” for being where they shouldn’t be and most of them receive “extra duty” as punishment (extra work). So, South and I just keep looking at policies and decide we should both be “minimum-out” and we are designated here for purely medical reasons.

2:30pm

We are officially allowed to leave the law library and we walk back to our unit – turning in our passes as we arrive. Surprisingly, no one is in the room and we get a little less crazy for a bit.

2:45pm

ID comes in, talks to South, ignores me, says she was lucky to not get a “shot” because she was not yet at work. Then leaves.

3:00pm

Rocker enters. She’s decided to officially have 8:30-10:30am for “her” time – so no one should ask her for help during that time. It’s time for me to lay down (lights on) for a while. Fatigue is a daily reality for me. I hand South and Rocker a piece of licorice.

3:10pm

Rocker mentions that she doesn’t have her GED or high school completion. I hear her say that people have told her that she’s too slow. I told her that I will personally work with her if she gets in a class. She wants the help, but she doesn’t want to join a class. I’ll see what she decides for herself. She is smart enough, she just needs some guidance. Prisons aren’t set up for special needs.

3:20pm

The little one enters with her headphones on singing out loud once again. She sits on South’s bed without asking permission and changes her clothing. She changes at least 3 times everyday - other than her pj’s. She looks in the mirror about 100x/day. She makes new messes all through the day. She leaves and I close my eyes again.

3:30pm

Inmate recall. All inmates must return to their housing unit.

 3:41pm

Awake again. The light had gone off and on again. Danbury passes out cookies. She gives me a nutty buddy bar. We all are supposed to stay in our room now, unless we are doing extra duty. A youngish woman looked in our room and asked who is smart. Hust pointed at me. The woman needs basic geometry help in order to take her GED test. I said, “yes,” so tonight I will help a stranger. I have nothing better to do. As I write this, my pillow is losing feathers. I can’t believe it is taking this long to replace my pillow to one I’m not allergic to…

Danbury is talking about ignoring her health care concerns. No one feels right about getting medical needs done here.

 3:56pm

Mail Call. My favorite part of weekdays. I received eight items today. My favorite was a package of Martin Luther King Jr. memories and [college] items from Cache. Last week she sent me the “Wicked” script and information about Doctor Who’s Tardis. She knows me well! I had to do a double flight of stairs five times during mail call today. Sometimes I receive multiple letters at a time, but I have to come back up to my room until name is called again. It's a work-out!

4:30pm

Standing count. I was not yet done reading my mail, but standing count is official and since I am living in the bus stop, I have to put on shoes and stand in the hallway until count is complete. One the 15 people in the bus stops have to stand outside their room. Everyone else stands inside their rooms. 

The two officers start by counting separately the women downstairs. If they agree on the count, they then count all of us upstairs. If they disagree on the count on either floor, they recount the floor. We stand the entire time in silence until our primary officers starts to go back downstairs and yells every time, "stay in your rooms!" We must all stay in our room until count is cleared. I went right back to my mail.

5:00pm 

I just finished with reading today’s mail. Only one of my other roommates, South, received mail. I guess this makes me a “brat.” I share the funny card sayings with everyone to get them to smile/laugh. We are finally released from our rooms. A long line of people sign a tablet of paper for the microwave order. They are making their dinner, rather than going to Chow. I’m doing Chow tonight, BBQ pork. South is reading the MLK speech/writing. I doubt anyone else in my room would care. I received notice that the medical records received my request for a copy of my labs, 26 vials of blood tests. It says I’m on a waiting list and will now receive a “call-out” in 60-90 days. If something is emergent, I guess I’ll know in 2-3 months.

5:10pm 

South, Danbury, the little one and I are in our room. The little one is trying to get her girlfriend’s attention across the upper floor. Danbury is attempting another nap, but seems uncomfortable and moaning. South is still reading amazing MLK words. I guess last week/this week is the 50^th Anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington. Wow! 

Rocker strolls back in. She has a lot on her mind. Her sister is very ill, her husband gave away all her possessions and lost her house to foreclosure, and her mom and son are also incarcerated. She should get out of here in about 1 month. She successfully got off medical hold. She was on disability before she was incarcerated. She works here on cleaning crew in the main building. When released, her plan is to go back on disability There have been no resources for her to figure out how to work in the future, especially if she does not get her G.E.D.

5:18pm 

Time to start getting ready for dinner. Uniforms are not required after 4pm, but I need to get our condiments together and put on my sneakers.

5:35pm 

South and I are told by the C.O. that we can’t stand where we are as we wait to go to dinner. We have no idea why not, but we move even though others are next to us.

5:40pm 

Chow time. We walk over to the Chow Hall and wait in line. Tonight’s fare is BBQ chicken or pork (I had chicken), sweet potato, corn and salad. It was pretty good. Chi sat with us for dinner. She is originally from China, so I asked her about her education in China and why she came to the U.S. for her Masters. It was a nice conversation. (Chi attended a top-school in the U.S. and then was hired for a great tech company. She is now here on espionage charges she swears she did not do.) 

6:15pm 

We are back from dinner and the woman’s math GED stuff was sitting on my bed. I went over her worksheets and made some practice sheets. Her exam is Thursday. South and I go through what to get from commissary this week. We share and eat together.

7:05pm 

I’m off to tutor GED math J

8:50pm 

Just finished tutoring Fly. She tried hard and I had fun teaching again. Fly was so excited to start understanding math. I gave her homework to write her own multiplication table and geometry problems. I can’t promise she will be ready to take the exam in 3 days, but she will be closer. She ran off and told another tutor about how I helped her. I have been offered tutoring positions now with the other teachers! I said, “the first teacher to officially hire me, I’m there.”

9:04pm 

Hust gets out her toothpaste and Danbury asks what kind of toothpaste she has. I say, “didn’t you get one in your entrance package?” Danbury responded to me. Hust turned and told me that I am not to burst into her conversations. I didn’t realize it was a private conversation being spoken loudly among the roommates. My new lesson, just stop talking when Hust is talking. Danbury seems to be trying to get close to Hust. Cool for them. Other people’s opinions of me are none of my business. I’m so glad this day is almost done. 

Hust tells me that I will soon hate being a tutor and that I will be annoyed working with inmates that just don’t “get it.” I informed her that she is mistaken, because this is what I love. I can be patient and work with one individual at a time. I’m happy just helping! Everyone in the room is trying to figure out commissary because it is closed next week. 

Another ‘disagreement.’ Everyone is talking over each other, but I am totally staying out of the conversation. I really wish I were not looking at another 4 months or 8 ½ months of this. Pray I get off medical hold. 

We all have to be in our rooms again, we are getting ready for 9:30pm count and many people are doing their extra duty. South is reading the day notes up to now. Danbury and Hust are talking Catholicism and religion and God. The little one is doing extra duty. ID and Rocker are talking. Hust insists that our counselor is going to move us all. They’ve been saying that since the day I started. It may happen, but I trust no one’s opinion anymore. I only know today, and today we are all in this room. Period.

9:30pm 

Everyone is talking about halfway house. Hust broke into my conversation with Danbury. I guess there is a double standard. South is still reading, ha! I think I wrote too much today. The little one is sleeping on her bunk through all the talk. Her girlfriend must’ve worked her crazy today. Rocker is eating peanut butter on an apple. Danbury and ID are talking about previous halfway house stories. I have certainly entered a world different from any I’ve been in before. Hust just asked Danbury for bread. I gave her mine. Kill them with kindness, right? Hust is making a pb&j sandwich. Our C.O. just walked by. He must be doing count at an attached unit before doing ours.

9:40pm 

Standing Count. Back out to hallway to stand for count. They didn’t agree on count on the top level, so we had to stand through a second count. Many inmates seemed to enjoy ‘looking’ at the new C.O. and his butt. Hmmm.

9:57pm 

Back in room. South is eating an orange. Others are talking about our right to vote and trying to get on disability. Nearly the end of the day, South’s blankets are still unlaundered. My roommates are trying to figure out how to take advantage of government funds upon release. All I can say (and I said nothing), but there has to be small print to what they are saying. I will go to religious services and speak to reentry services, though. I wish I could just ‘google’ or research on my own.

10:07pm 

I’m so glad lights out is soon. The drama and everything is just exhausting. The phones are full; I wish I could ask Survivor about how her mother-in-law is doing (she is ill from what I heard). Extra duty cleaning happening again today. The little one says she is “starving,” but then, that she’s going to bed. Then she looks in her locker, then back to her bed. Kind of like staring in a fridge and nothing looks good. ID can’t stop talking-non-stop chatter. South and I are yawning. ID-chatter, chatter, chatter, chatter, … The C.O. just came in and told ED and Rocker that they are too loud and need to stay in the room. ID is telling him off (even though he’s not here anymore). Always drama.

10:15pm 

Danbury is reading a really cool book that gives prayers for all prison experiences. She is reading about “saints” for prisoners. Of course I don’t know that stuff. They just asked if I believe in Saints and Angels and Jesus. I said, “no.” I explained that in Judaism, we pray to just one higher power. Hust just said that she sees no one truly faithful in this place. I’m not sure anyone should judge another’s faith or how they understand their faith and practice their faith. A religious conversation continues. I am silent. They are talking confession.

10:25pm 

Listening to religious conversation is exhausting. I wish I could talk recovery all day. ID is still non-stop talking. Rocker is pretty quiet as well. So much judgement around what is “right” around religion. As they are being judgmental, they are talking about how horrible it is to judge another’s way to practice Christianity, I’ve never heard Jesus so much. ID is planning her unlawful ways after she’s out of here and getting on government sustenance, and here she is saying what a good Christian is. I think everyone needs religion and belief in a way that works for them and their serenity.

10:33pm 

Why aren’t the lights out? Please someone announce “lights out.” Please someone Announce “lights out.” I want to read by my book light and go to sleep. Shhhhh.

There is so much homophobia among my roommates. ID calls C.O.’s faggots and Rocker says the C.O.’s are becoming “fruitier and fruitier.” They constantly make homophobic comments. I can’t believe I have to stay quiet on something.

10:37pm 

“Lights out” by the C.O. 

I can barely walk (I’m so stiff) as I turned off the room light. I turned on my book light and I’m about to start reading Kill the Messenger by Tami Hoag. But my roommates are still talking. Rocker is giving legal advice to Danbury again. She has no idea about the law. I’m done commenting, just listening. Now, they are talking drug conspiracy charges.

10:45pm 

Still talking. The little one is sleeping through everything. Lights out does not mean it is dark. There are always lights on in the unit and they shine into our door and window, not bright, but at least dim light 24 hours/day. I set my watch alarm for 5:50am, to ensure I was up, clothed, and fed by work at 7:30am tomorrow. People are still out of their rooms watching television in the open atrium. There is never silence. South and Danbury are commenting on how one of the roommates has a B.O. issue. Danbury starts spraying her air freshener around the bed of that individual. Next, they talk coffee for like 10 minutes. Then the room erupts in a conversation about commissary, relatives giving money, and the need for funds. 

Literally, the last thing said was by Danbury, who said that her dad was gambling at Foxwoods and he should send her $ if he won. Exactly the last think I needed to hear!

From Dragonfly: Weekends

Weekends are especially low key here. There are no call-outs, so unless someone has a job that includes weekend hours, our time is very open (although we can still only go between buildings and areas in the last 10 minutes of each hour). There was a big softball game on the campus on Saturday, where an outside team came here to play the all-stars of the campus team. It was packed on the field. I didn't know what was going on until it was over. Somehow, everyone else knew. It was too hot to be outdoors anyway and many women are sunburned from watching the game.

I did go to indoor recreation. That's where the card/board games, pool tables, work out equipment, aerobic/other body classes, and indoor type activities occur. I went there to use a book they have that allows inmates to order craft supplies. It was a good thing I went that day, as I learned that the first Saturday of the month is the last opportunity to order for a full month. It will take about 2-3 months (not kidding) for me to receive the supplies I ordered. I ordered blank cards, colored paper, markers, scissors (safety), and the like in order to make/design my own cards. I am hoping to receive the supplies before the holidays. South plans to share the cost and make cards with me. A lot of people sell their crafts and get paid through commissary, but we just want to do it for ourselves and maybe give some away. As I've said before, I am trying best to not engage in the underground marketplace. The card making will be an activity to keep me busy and creative... at least for a bit. I am also purchasing the goods to make a locker organizer this week at commissary - using yarn and plastic boards with holes. I could hire someone who is good at doing it, but I want to try to do it on my own. I need things to do. It should take a couple days or longer to complete (depending on style and detail). One of my roommates (Hust) has a really nice one which is Dallas Cowboys. I don't think I can be that detailed, but I will try (although my teams are not the cowboys or anything in Texas!).

Two minutes left to my email time, so I am signing off here. A new week, and three weeks down. Day 22 begins.

From Dragonfly: And Then We Are Back to 7

We have a new roommate again, Danbury, she was recently transferred here from a closing women's prison. She only has a couple months left on her sentence. She has been in multiple facilities and says that this is the extreme worse of the ones she's been in. I have nothing to compare it to, but she's not the first person to say that to me. I wonder if I would be more active at a different facility. Here, my solace is on my bed, reading a book, with ear plugs in. I've read several books already and just look forward to the next book that either arrives or I check out from the library. They have older books in the library. I will probably donate my books to the library after they've been passed around efficiently. For example, I was sent, "Wool," which I read over a couple days. I then gave the book to Chi, who self-surrendered the same day as I did. Then we gave it to South, who finished it amazingly in two days (it is a long book!), and now it is with Freckles (who self-surrendered the same day as South). Next, it will either go to Danbury or maybe then I'll just donate it. But, every book gets WELL read in prison! Sometimes, you can even walk into my room of 7 people and every one of us are on our bunks reading... it is rare, though, because one of my roommates is an amazing artist and is usually painting awesome stuff and two others love to just listed to their mp3 players. I haven't bought an mp3 player. It is nearly $70 and the songs can cost $1.50-2.00 each. I don't think I want to try to budget for that. I will just get a basic radio for tv... $25. I borrowed a roommates to see if I could pick up an NPR station, but the only non-tv stations I could reach were Christian radio, country western, a couple pop stations, and some conservative talk shows. Oh well.

Danbury has pretty much joined South and I for our meals and hanging around. She's around Danbury's age (I think) and wants this to be her last time incarcerated. I don't blame her. She knows how to cook all the good culinary prison recipes, though, so South and I are starting to enjoy some of our meals (outside the Chow Hall). Yesterday, we had chicken salad wraps for lunch (a combination of bagged chicken, ramen noodles, mayo, spices, and much more). She is making us a potato log next Friday (I couldn't even begin to explain the meal, but it starts with broken up potato chips). Friday is fish day and none of us like fish that much! Nothing we make from the commissary food is nutritious, unfortunately, but it is nice to enjoy a meal now and then. I've officially joined the band wagon of bringing condiments with me to meals. I bought chili garlic sauce, mayo, and jelly. South bought seasoned salt and peanut butter. Danbury has salt, pepper, and tons of other seasonings. We all share with one another. The chili garlic sauce (Vietnamese) pretty much makes everything taste better! I've never been taught how to cook, and what I do make, I make from recipes. Here, though, I'm actually experimenting and finding edible choices.

It's so weird what becomes important in prison, compared with the outside world. Money for commissary is very important, as is money for all communications (email, phone, stamps). Ability to buy just a couple pieces of grey clothing, another important item. Having an insulated mug or a water bottle - very important (although we can enter almost nowhere with them). Shampoo with conditioner, instead of just shampoo, is a luxury. A watch that properly keeps time and has a working alarm is a necessity (I gratefully was able to keep the one I bought ahead of time - Timex Expedition on a Velcro strap). They have been out of their Timex watches in commissary since my arrival. Having good headphones where both ears work is a super luxury. I have not touched an iPhone, tablet computer, or any real technology (except talking through trulincs) since my arrival and I don't really even miss it. Sometimes a light game of Candy Crush sounds good. I miss texting thoughts. I miss the ability to just call someone if I want to talk. But, I write at least two letters every day. I write these emails. Life can accommodate almost any situation. I am learning to accommodate my life to the reality of my day to day. I still believe there's a reason I am here. I look for opportunities to reach out, be supportive, and also take care of myself.

From Dragonfly: Wardrobe Selection

I barely remember the days of looking in my closets (yes, two closets to hold my clothes) and select which outfit I would wear for the day. Then, matching socks (if I needed them) and the shoes... oh, did I love my shoes. Truth is, I usually prefer the comfortable to the stylish in my clothing, but it was stylish to me. My favorite t-shirt says, "Talk Nerdy to Me." Yes, clothes match the personality, don't they?

Now, I look in my locker, where my clothing doesn't even fill the 2'x3' locker space (half the locker is for clothing and the other half for other things on shelves), and select between the following: four pants of the exact same khaki green color and type, 4 t shirts that are also khaki green, 1 khaki green short sleeve button down shirt, 2 long sleeve button down shirts (all the same color and style), a pair of socks that are like every other white pair of socks, and my new New Balance gym shoes I bought myself (if I were in a different institution, I would likely have to wear steel toed boots given to me for free- here we get a choice). That is what I wear Monday-Friday between 7am-4pm as long as I am not on my unit (meaning anywhere else on campus except the rec center).

All other times, my clothing depends on what "greys" I have decided to purchase for myself at commissary. I have two pair of grey shorts, one grey t-shirt, and I just purchased a pair of grey sweatpants (but it's still too hot to wear them ever). I will be purchasing a grey sweatshirt as well and likely more grey t-shirts. The "greys" can only be worn after 4pm M-F (or in our unit any time) and all weekend. Grey and Khaki green. That is my choice. One pair of shoes for outside (my New Balance) and a pair for inside (shower shoes that are actually fake Crocs).

Oh, they gave us some of the most uncomfortable, ugly, and maroon pajama bottoms and a top. I have seen no one ever wear the top... and the most hideous robe you've ever seen. I've seen maybe one person wearing it out of desperation. We can wear the pj's only in our room and no where else in the unit or outside. When it gets colder, they may come in handy. In the mean time, everyone wears their shorts and t-shirts for sleep. So, same clothing for days and nights. Greys and Greens that is our wardrobe for every single day.

This does not stop people from trying to have "style." Young inmates can be seen wearing shorts 2 sizes too big for themselves and having their underwear show (just like on the streets of any city). Hair style is a way people try to stand out (really short hair tends to indicate "boi" - or a woman who wants a "femme" to join them in a relationship). Many "boi's" in here are not "bois" when they are  out of prison. Just yesterday I heard a woman say, "If I ever come back here, I am shaving my head so that I will pass as a "boi" and women will take care of all my commissary needs." She was serious.

Anything an inmate brings with them from another institution that is a slightly different color, or offers individualism, will go for big money on the underground market. I've heard about brown t-shirts going for $40, terry robes for $50, and more. This is done by people purchasing goods for the "seller" on their commissary. For people who don't receive money from the outside world, it is a matter of survival (I suppose). I choose to not engage in this underground market. I am a lucky individual who will have the funds needed through my stay here. But since everything costs something here, those without funds have to do what they must (including hustling).

We also must be careful to lock up everything. My roommate had a bra stolen this morning. A t-shirt and bra disappeared from the room next to us just yesterday.

Fire alarm. I am ending this here.

From Dragonfly: Demographics

I knew that coming to prison would be an experience in facing an identity crisis. Here, we are all the same - inmates/criminals. We are known by our # and sometimes our last name. First names are too personal. Who we are, our background, and our prior identity matters not.

However, I didn't quite expect the identity crisis that has followed me since the day I arrived. This is my identity around demographics. On the first day, I discovered that my height and weight were wrong in the system - it said I am 5'2" (I am shorter than that) and weigh a mere 35 lbs. Wow, that's skinny - and you know already that I am not skinny and 35 lbs would be death. Just saying. Well, all my paperwork has that as my weight and height.... so I will be shrinking and gaining much more than the first year 35 lbs when I leave and they report my new weight and height!

The other day, I was called out to psychology for my inmate intake. I walked into the psychologists office and she looked at me very funny. She said that I could not be the person I am, because I am listed as African American. So, now I am a 5'2" 35 lb African American. Okay, not one of these things are correct. Of course, records are not changed, so no idea when people will actually update my files.

Then, two days ago, when I was with the Chaplain to get approved for Rosh Hashana activities, she told me that I had no religion listed on my papers. She said that it was not even an option to have no religion listed (there is another answer for those with no religion). But, I am Jewish. I wrote Jewish on all my forms. I started to cite a Hebrew prayer to prove my Jewish identity. She accepted it.

So, I am listed in the system, now, as an African America, 5'2", 35 lb, individual with no religious identity. Ummm, maybe I am supposed to have someone else here in my place and I am supposed to be at home, or rather, on my way to a wonderful weekend of serenity with several of my G.A. female friends in recovery. We started the annual weekend trip 5 years ago and it is still going strong. I told my friends that they MUST still do it this year, even if I am not present (in fact, unfortunately, 3 of us will not be attending). It matters not, though, because the weekend is a chance for each individual to be in beautiful nature, away from home, sharing, caring, and laughing. I will think of them all a lot this weekend and I know they will also be thinking of me. I am grateful everyday for my recovery and the community of friends it has provided to me. I really am one of the people in my entire unit who receives such warm supportive letters nearly every day.

Well, although my demographics are all wrong, I did have the opportunity to be myself at my first "team" meeting scheduled for this morning (I do not get the Jewish holidays off!). Team meetings are done within 28 days of arrival and are with an inmate's assigned counselor, case worker, and unit manager. The counselor concentrates on issues within the prison, the case worker on issues outside the prison, and the unit manager is their supervisor. I was provided with information about my "out" dates and we are working on next steps - I must remove my case from the jurisdiction it was in to the jurisdiction I will live in once released. We are starting that process immediately. It will take about 2 months. Next, I will be working to get myself off medical hold. That will be trickier, but not impossible. I do have one piece of advice for anyone facing prison... if there's any way you can live without major health issues for the period of imprisonment, try to not get designated to a medical facility.

Well, I'm late for my Rosh Hashana evening services. I was just told that they are waiting for me. I will receive Challah bread, apples and honey - a little reality of being a Jew - even if the system doesn't show me as one. L'Shana Tovah to those celebrating along with me.

From Dragonfly: When Heroes Fall

A difficult day yesterday. Although, I will start with the positive. I started my job "trying out" at Education to be a GED tutor. I helped women aged 19-68 write introduction paragraphs for essays. It was fun, but hard not "being" the teacher or looking at the program from my educational research brain. I hope I am selected to be one of the permanent tutors. I do a day with them again tomorrow.

That could not outweigh the emotions of the day, however. Starting at lunch... SARDINES!!! AGAIN... So, as I understood based on a conversation earlier in the day with the chaplain, I went to the main line to get some chicken and rice. Next thing you know, an officer pulls me out of line and starts yelling at me. He pulls me to the side and asks the main dining guy to assist him at degrading me publicly for going to the main line when I am supposed to be on the "common fare." I explained that they are out of the meals and I have been served Sardines 5 of the last 7 days and spaghetti and meatballs 4 of the days. They called me a liar, even though I was not lying. They were out of food and only got a new shipment yesterday. I guess meals were going to start following the menu last night (I wouldn't know, because as soon as they made me put an entirely full tray of decent food on the dish washing counter, I did not go back yesterday). I went immediately back to the chaplain to once again (3rd time) talk about the lack of meals available for Kosher inmates. But, what can they really do?!?! So, I officially withdrew from the Kosher meals and then I broke down in tears. Luckily, the chaplain (of course) had actual tissue on her desk (what a concept!). She closed her door and I said, "I'm so stupid crying about food. I just want some protein." I said I'm not supposed to cry here. She told me that it was ridiculous that I could not cry. I am a woman, in a messed up place. Very true. I walked out of the main building wondering how soon this place will officially "break me." I ate some basic commissary fare in my room before having to get my head together and return to education for the afternoon class.

Okay, so my day starts to get a little better. I'd put some protein in my stomach and started to get passed the fact that I may actually get a "shot" (in trouble) for having taken food from the wrong line... until mail call. The first letter I receive is from my advisor, Dr. P., I'm excited that she decided to write me and I open it immediately... to see a letter informing me that she has read my indictment and no longer will act as my academic advisor or mentor. She said that our relationship is "irreparably damaged." I never lied to her about anything and an indictment (as we all know) is not fact. But, she decided I am not fitting to work with her anymore. She cc'd the heads of my academic department. I'm sure they have now read the indictment as well. My academic future now remains unknown. Tears again - this time in the safety of my bed.

I have to admit that 19 additional pieces of mail were given to me yesterday - wow! They were all loving, supportive, funny, and wonderful. I laid on my bed and read every single one. Here's one letter telling me I am dirt and 19 telling me I am loved and supported. Yet, we cannot change where our minds go - that I can only think of the one negative even among so much positive. This is the time for the serenity prayer. Keeping in mind what is and what is not changeable at this moment, I must only worry about today and TODAY, I can do nothing. Acceptance will come. I am going back to school. As of right now, I am still a student and I've done nothing to violate my right to continue to be one. I do not know what the future looks like, but do any of us? Keep doing the next right thing... read and distract myself... spend time with the few here, like South, who truly understand. One day at a time.

From Dragonfly: Finding Community

I just had lunch with several women - all here for the same reason as me --- meaning camp eligible, but at Carswell for medical reasons. We all are educated as well. It is hard not to notice the discrepancies we have from those who are also camp eligible, but without health related issues. They go to camps - without secured fencing, without being inside with people who are violent offenders, etc. Here, we are treated the same as a murderer, a gun trader, a gang leader. We are no different, except, we are scared. We are not violent people, yet put into a violent world. Also, we all have the same stories around our health care. We are here due to our health, but none of us have all our medications we need, none of us are being accommodated appropriately. We, instead, find ourselves more ill than when we came, unable to get the specialized care we had when we were living our lives. Yes, we made mistakes and we are felons, but we have different level prisons for a reason - here, everyone is treated like a violent offender. One woman said that it's kind of like we are the "experiments," to see how long they can put us under this kind of stress without "breaking" or becoming someone/something more violent or angry. There is something just not right about being treated as "less than" for the simple reason of health. Many women here also get denied going home or to halfway houses because of their health, which means that the invalids are imprisoned longer than the healthy. Once again, something is wrong about that picture. If I were healthy, I would most likely be at Alderson and be getting ready for time in a halfway house and/or home confinement. Since I happen to have an autoimmune condition, I am in a heavily secured environment and the likelihood of my going to a halfway house and/or home confinement is substantially diminished (yet, I could get better health care if I were home and able to go back to school). Who is being punished and for what reasons? As of right now, two of my most important medications are denied to me because they are not in the formulary. The most important, Enbrel, is the medication that FINALLY helped me become somewhat capable of getting through days without substantial fatigue and pain. Not having it for just two weeks, my ankles are back to swelling, my joints are incredibly stiff and tender, and I can't keep myself awake throughout the day. I understand that it is a very expensive medication, but I've been through substantial tests, medication trials, and more in the last year and we FINALLY got me a regiment that worked. I don't understand how a medical facility can deny the medication even if it is not in their formulary. They are paid more per inmate with medical issues, which means they have the funds - or should have the funds. Finally, a simple allergy is not well handled. I have requested nearly every day since my self-surrender for a non feather pillow. I am horribly allergic to feathers. Most people love down comforters, they make me sick. But, no one has responded to any of my requests. Instead I have a pillow with small holes and feathers are everywhere on my bed. I wake with the headache of allergies and there's not a lot I can do about it. I can't sleep comfortably without a pillow. That's the world here, often, the choice between one thing or another - and neither is a good option, but we need to go with the best option we have at the moment.

The thing is that I know I belong in prison. I pleaded guilty and said that I would accept my punishment as it comes. I just do not understand why my punishment must be harsher due to my health. Many women here have been to other women's prisons and camps. They all say that the experience here is far different than their other facilities. I do not blame the staff on this. I truly believe that most of the staff are doing the best they can with the resources and guidance they are given. However, I do question the authorities that decided to subject minimum security inmates to high level security and to bunk with violent offenders. It would be easy to separate them - there are enough of us to have an entire housing unit of just minimum security offenders or just people with the chronic health concerns. That is not how things are done, though. Mental health, physical health, and people with no health issues are all combined. There is no protection for the non-violent offenders. We must just keep our mouths shut, do as we are told, and try to stay out of the other offenders' ways. I've seen people passing their pills (selling their medication), having sex in their beds, getting into fist fights, beating up their girlfriends, stealing other's goods, and more. I've been here just 2 weeks. These offenders are not the minimum security offenders here for health reasons, they are the drug conspirators, the gang members, the gun slinging folks from their neighborhoods, who are now in Carswell doing their time and trying to survive using the survival skills they know (stealing, cheating, etc.). They are not necessarily bad people, in fact many seem very kind, but they are learning nothing different here and many say that they intend to go back to their criminal lives upon release. I've had someone who is a drug dealer, another who is an identity thief, and another who is a burglar all state plain and simple that they will likely continue their crimes once released. I do hear some say, "never again," and I pray that they have found a way to separate themselves from their former lifestyle. I know that my 12 step program helps me stay clean and on the right path. I can only hope some of them find a way to do it for themselves. So, I accept that I have to be in prison. But, I am still not accepting that I have to be here, where neither my emotional or physical needs are being met. It doesn't seem right, not one bit.

From Dragonfly: And Then There Were 5?

Well, not exactly, at least not yet. Although, in a couple days we will know for sure. Another one of my roommates is in trouble. This is an individual who has been in trouble in the past as well. She will know whether they are putting her in the SHU (again) within a day or two. It may sound like the numbers in my room are dwindling, but a bus with 30 new inmates will show up tomorrow and we will be filled once again. That happens here every week day. If a lot of people leave, a lot more people come. It is a revolving door in more ways than one. There simply are not enough places to put all the female inmates in the U.S. A new facility just opened in Alabama, but it is a low secured facility - best for people who are categorized as "low." Minimums would have to request it, and health issues are a no-no. Health issues come here, to Carswell, nowhere else. Period. I hear they are switching the Danbury women's facility to all men. Women are being shipped (sounds like cargo...kind of is like cargo) to Alabama and elsewhere in the country. Many far away from their homes, family, and friends. There are far more men's facilities than women's. Men are much more likely to be within 500 miles of home. Women do not necessarily get that accommodation. On visitation days, too few women here have visitors - their families are just too far away to visit. Only one of my roommates has had a visitor since arriving here. She's been here 10 years, so visitations are still rare for her.

Today is a federal holiday, Labor Day. We are allowed to not be in our uniforms today (we wear our uniforms M-F) and most of us are off from work. Not the grounds folks, they still need to clean. I swear, the front lobby of the main building is mopped about 10x every day. It must be the cleanest lobby in America. When a federal holiday occurs, everyone talks about one thing - the 'special' meal. Will it be corn dogs? Will it be something else? Anything different than the ordinary on the menu is exciting to the masses here. Lines are long into the Chow Hall. This morning's special thing was bananas. I didn't go to breakfast to see the masses going crazy for bananas this morning. I will start my meals today with lunch. My unit came in dead last this week with inspection, so while some units head to lunch around 11:15am, my unit will head out around 12:45pm. They are already cleaning the chow hall when we get seated. We are rushed. This is why inspection is so important, I suppose. I think, aside from the 'relationships' formed with one another, food is the next important activity here. Plus, it is not against the rules (like relationships are). I made a big choice yesterday, and chose to not eat the kosher food. It would have been sardines for lunch and spaghetti again for dinner. That would be 5 days in a row. They are out of everything. Instead, I had a real brunch (with eggs and sausage) and I had roast beef for dinner. I just ate the protein off each of the meals. I have been craving protein!! I already have been talking with the Chaplains office about the Kosher fare, so I'll talk with them again tomorrow. I think my days of being Kosher are coming to an end. I can manage keeping myself healthy on the self-select line (one line you just get served everything on the main menu, the self-select line give you options of food and sides) of the main fare. At least, I think I can. One day at a time on this one. I have no great excitement on what today's meals will include. Food has no meaning except sustenance for me here. None of it is that great.

A real check-in on how I am "doing." Well, I've just finished my first 14 days away. I cried only once. I find my escape by reading (a lot) and doing crosswords. I often wish I could make my bunk into a crate - kind of like dogs have - a crate for privacy and safety. When I've trained dogs in the past, I always crate trained them. The crate becomes their room and dogs often look to it as where they will go when they are scared, tired, etc. For me, I would like to enclose my bottom bunk on 3 sides so that I, too, have a real place away from the chaos that exists beyond it. But, I cannot. I still wake up and wonder if it was all just a dream and I am home, but we know I never am home (only in my dreams which are frequent). From the moment I arrived, my head is only on how to get out of here legitimately as soon as possible, with my sanity, and in one piece. It seems to be the best way to focus on the positive. I am sleeping. I am eating. I am doing the best I can. I think that is as much as anyone can hope for.

From Dragonfly: And Then There Were 6

The roommates continue to not get along... verbal fights constantly between them. South and I just stay on our beds and look at one another... like, really?!?!? They need to fight over politics, cleaning, stories, etc. The other day, a simple conversation went into another screaming match and suddenly they were about to physically fight. I jumped off my bed and went out of the room to the hallway. South and a couple others followed suit. This was not what I wanted to watch. No actual physical fight occurred, but the two of them kept at each other so much that the staff officially moved one of the women out of our room and to another unit. Seems odd that the other one seems to be scott free of all responsibility, but it is not my job to question what happens to whom. I am simply an observer. This left us with 6 people and 1 empty top bunk. Surprisingly, the top bunk has remained empty for 2 days so far. It won't stay empty long.

I thank god every day that South was put into my room. She is the older woman who self-surrendered a week prior to me. She is educated, has manners, and is about as shell-shocked as I am for being here. We tend to go to our meals together and spend the rest of our time reading on our beds. We share cards from home and we want to buy supplies to make some of our own cards. She will be here for just a short while and I plan to visit her once I am allowed to travel (after all is said and done). I think she and Survivor will really get along.

Yesterday, South and I had a conversation with one of my roommates - a young woman who seems to be allowing herself to remain in an abusive relationship (punches have occurred). I started the conversation with just a little basic information about the "abuse cycle" and what I see occurring. I told this young woman that she deserves to think more of herself and that once a relationship becomes abusive, the cycle usually starts. She actually listened as South and I were talking. We talked about her self-esteem and that she is more than what is defined by that particular relationship. But this young woman seems to want someone who will boss her around and treat her like a kid. I am encouraging this young woman to go back to school while here and get her GED. I told her that I would help her study if she got into the class (she was in the class, but got in trouble and went to the SHU, so she has to start all over again). She's been here for 4 years - entered when she was a mere 18 years old. She will get out of here in a year or so. She has never been depended on as an adult. No one here is going to help her with that transition to real life. I see every day how the revolving door of prison becomes a reality.

South and I had to be careful while we were having that conversation - we were sure not to put down the girlfriend. Doing so could land us on the wrong side of a fist now or in the future. South is spunky and says she can fight (at 66 years of age). I am not so spunky. I'm a thinker, not a fighter. In fact, one woman from my unit was standing behind me in line for the computers today and she said she's seen me on the floor. I said that, "I'm trying to get acclimated." I proceeded to have to define the word "acclimated." I forget where I am sometimes. I want to be involved in some sort of real conversation. At least South offers me that at time. It is likely that we will both be moved out of the Bus Stop over the next week or so. Our unit counselor is coming back to work this week. He puts trouble makers in the bus stops - so newbies will be moved out. We will likely stay on 1 South because it is designated for chronic care inmates. Many people are not chronic care in the unit, but most of the chronic care folks that are able to be out of a hospital bed are in my unit. Makes for a very long pill line!

Anyway, I am just going to go with the flow on where ever I am moved. One thing I look forward to is an outside window. When I wake early (which I do nearly every day), I want to be able to see the trees, the hills, the birds, and the world beyond Carswell.

From Dragonfly: Survival of the Fittest

Being in prison has a brand new meaning to me of "survival of the fittest" - a good ole Darwinian explanation of how people and animals survive in a difficult world. I'm trying to gather the evidence of what makes someone "fit" for life at Carswell. I have only come up with a couple answers so far, but I thought I would share them.
1) A person must have strong self-esteem. I can honestly say that most of the women I come across here do not have that strong sense of who they are and the self-esteem to go along with it. They "act" strong, but they do not express themselves to be strong. They need to have the comfort of others to help them through this, rather than a confidence in themselves. They survive, but their actions to survive often include going against the rules.
2) A person must have good manners. Once again, many people I come across do not show themselves to have many manners. I often here people telling others what to do, without a single "please" or "thank you." I hear responses to the C.O.'s often with swears, rather than just acceptance that they got caught doing something wrong. I see people accidentally bump each other, without an "I'm sorry" or "excuse me." These issues bring people on edge of their aggression and fights break out. A little respect could go a long way, even if you do not feel it is always deserved.
3) A person must be able to sleep with sound and light. There is no true darkness and no true silence in prison. Period.
4) A person must stay connected with the outside world. There are way too many inmates who receive very few, if any, connections from the outside world (on email, phone, or snail mail). They see their entire existence as within the gates of the prison. They are unable to even imagine life beyond their daily existence here, especially if they've been inside for a long time. I recently met a woman who is going home in 6 months after 24 years in prison. She has never used a cellular phone. She has never used a debit card, has never seen a hybrid car, and never driven on a five lane highway. She says that her first trip outside of prison will be to see her first Wal-Mart.
5) A person must accept that they are not the center of this world. Things will not just be given to you. You work for nearly nothing. You wait in lines for nearly everything. Sometimes it appears unfair, many times it is unfair. It is what it is. If you need help, want an education, or have a specific medical issue, it can take months for it to be addressed. Don't be passive about it, but also realize that every person here has needs and there simply is not enough resources.
6) A person must realize that daily sustenance is different than nutrition. Main line meals average 2,500 calories a day. Too many for most inmates. If you eat everything put before you, you will gain wait and likely become less healthy. The food does not taste that great either. So, give yourself some limits. Make sure  you get enough protein, which is the hardest to get enough of here. Don't sustain yourself through just commissary purchases because they are all heavy fat and calories. Make smart choices and eat until full, not until your tray is clean.
7) A person must get comfortable with the unknown. Every day something new happens or some rule changes. I used to be able to get into a separate line for my meals, since they were Kosher and I didn't need to wait in the long line to get into the meals. Now, I have to wait in the long line, until I am in the dining hall, and then I split off. A different C.O. can change how count is done for them and then another puts you in a different place for count. Just go with all the rules and changes. You gain nothing by being difficult.
8) A person must respect the staff. The staff know who the trouble makers are. When something happens, they will act differently depending on who is involved. This is no different than in the outside world with a group of kids. If a person is a trouble maker, they will be listened to less often and with more skepticism. If you are kind and respectful to the staff, especially the C.O.'s, you will be treated with some respect back. I've seen it first hand.
9) A person must be comfortable seeking out their own job under different rules. If you do not want a job in the kitchen or working the grounds as a custodian, then seek out your own employment. Start right away. Ask questions of staff about how to get hired into their department. Do what they say. I started trying to get hired into Education from my second day here. Yesterday, I got offered the job of a tutor. I start work on Tuesday. I would not have been hired, had I not taken an algebra test first and then a week later, sought staff out again to see if I passed. They did not inform me one way or the other. It wasn't until I showed up that a staff member said, "we want to hire you." It was up to me to go back, not to be waiting to hear back. These rules are different from the real world. I was told I started Tuesday - with no idea of time, etc. I had to learn the times on my own. 7:30am-1pm. These are the realities of working in this prison.
10) A person must take time for them self. So important! Find time to just lay/sit on your bed and reflect, meditate, find peace within yourself. Every minute on the compound, we have to know our surroundings and follow rules that sometimes just don't make sense. Use any skills you have to find peace within yourself, even if you can't with your surroundings. I am going to seek out from education and/or religious services a place for quiet solitude for perhaps 1 hour every day or every couple days. A place to study my education books and have real quiet. I am not sure if this is possible, but if I don't seek it out, I will never get it.

There are many more items that go toward being the "fittest," but these are a good start. If you don't want prison to totally break you of who you are or make you too rough around the edges, remember that this is only TEMPORARY. It may be months or years, but one day, you will be outside those gates again and what kind of person you want to be on the outside, can also exist within the gates.