The Grand Canyon

Sporty and I took an unexpected sidetrip today to the Grand Canyon. It was not out of the way and was not in violation of my approved travel through federal supervision. It was my first time there.

We really lucked out. Snow is moving in on New Year's Eve, and while it was a cold crisp day, clear skies gave us an incredible view.

It's really amazing what beauty is around us that we just need to take a little sidetrip to see. It really provides such great perspective on life and the grandness of everything and the smallness of everything as well. If time was on my side, I would have figured out a way to stay warm, pull out a pad of paper, and write my mission statement for grad school right there. If the Grand Canyon can't provide inspiration, I'm not sure what can. Ah, but that wasn't to be today, so with the images on my head, and the serenity in my heart, I will simply use the energy of the day to provide me with my words and thoughts.

It's actually been a fairly perfect day so far (knock on wood). I sadly said "goodbye" to my ailing father, promising to see him again soon, rented a planned vehicle without incident (the temp printed license I was emailed from my state was accepted), and a nice drive to and now from the Grand Canyon. Our next stop is going to Sporty's cousin's home in another state, where we will also meet up with Joy who is also nearby visiting family. This is really a good winter trip. Most of all, though, it's been seeing my dad who I have been worried about and praying for so much that is the reason this trip was so important! I wish he could have gone to the Grand Canyon with me and even though he's been there, just had the opportunity to take in its vastness and wonder one more time.

A Day with Dad

My dad is not the person he once was, then again, neither am I. The person he is today is relaxed, confused, simple, exhausted, frustrated, passive, kind, and quiet. I can't begin to tell you how many of those words would not be on this list ever in the past.

Health-wise, it's truly impossible for me to know what's going on. The cancer is still there - in his brain and in his bones, and he just finished another round of chemo and radiation. We will know in a couple weeks if it has spread more. When I try to bring up anything health related with him or my step-mother, I just don't get any straight answers.

The biggest effects on my dad has been from the stroke he suffered the same week as my sentencing. I wasn't told about it until the day before my sentencing. My dad was not lucky, he never regained his full communication functions and from what I can tell, his memory is also affected.

Where does this leave things? My step-monster pretty much talks and talks and complains and talks and whines and bosses my dad around and talks for him and talks some more... It's so hard to watch. I'm grateful she's taking care of him, very grateful, but I am upset by how she talks to him, at him, about him, etc. He is sick and desperately trying to do things right, and she screams that he didn't start the dish washer, pulled the hood rather than the gas cover, or can't remember going somewhere.

I can only imagine what it must be like for one's spouse to suddenly be ill and need you in unexpected ways. That's what you sign up for in marriage. Growing older means that we all change and sometimes we face very scary struggles. No one should be made to feel worse about the struggles they are facing.

I have one more full day with my dad. I'll enjoy every minute of it and lean on my program of recovery to deal with the stresses of the unknowns of his health and the behaviors of my step monster. She tries hard, perhaps she tries too hard. She's just very judgmental. My dad used to be that way. He's not anymore. Now, he's just my quiet, simple, loving dad. I'll take him this way and hope he can still live a while yet!

I am Really Me!

It was a good Christmas Day. Not that I have that many to compare from. Most were full of Chinese food and movies. Spending time with Sporty's family is always full of energy, imagination, and food! She has a large family and there are a lot of cousins, kids, and drama. There's always a ton of laughter. Last time there was a small food fight. Today, three separate adults got scared as they opened the food pantry and a person jumped out at them. This is family. 

I had one responsibility upon leaving the house - grab the two tins of Christmas cookies to take with us to my dads and to Sporty's cousin in New Mexico. About halfway to the airport, we realized I failed in that one task. I got distracted by Super Dog and looking for T.S. who had my phone. So, no cookies for the relatives.

Once at the airport, Sporty and I approach the counter for baggage check. We only brought small carry on suitcases, but this is one of those airlines that allows no carry-ons. They charge for everything!

Pull out my wallet and everything is there... Except my driver's license. The start of a 8 day trip and no license?!? Really?!? I pulled everything out of my wallet and my backpack. No license. T.S. pulled off the highway and searched my car, nope. I have all my other pieces of id and cards in my wallet, just missed that one critical document.

I nervously stood in the TSA security line. Would my university ID get my through airport security? Not a good line to be nervous in!! I smiled as "next," was called and I walked up to the next agent. I showed my ID as if it was normal. It was not. She took one look at me, and asked me for a state issued ID. I explained the situation and was asked to show several other cards in my wallet. This got me through to the next level of security where I once again explained my situation and had to prove my address. My many medication bottles came in handy for that purpose!!

Finally, I was passed on to the next level - the hand security check. Another frisk. Oh, I'm used to this. Stand up spread legs, hands out to sides, glove covered hands patting through every crevice of my clothed body. Doesn't seem to matter the situation, I'm always selected for hand screening. It's been nearly six months without a pat-down, guess it was time!!!

Then they emptied everything from my backpack again! They had to make sure there were no bad chemicals or anything. Once I re packed it, I have no idea where anything is anymore in that bag! Can't say it was an especially special beginning to our trip.

I'm now stuck trying to problem solve. I'm supposed to rent a car Monday to drive between two states - impossible without my license. I need to figure out how to get something temporarily. I have NO idea where my license could be. I had no reason to doubt it would be where it always was in its place in my wallet. Did I really just take off for another state without a license??

Merry Christmas

I imagine that the vast majority of the people that read this blog celebrate Christmas and I want to wish each and every one of you a great holiday. After a very long drive to my moms home today, I enjoyed a nice dinner with my folks. It was nice to be back home with my parents as the last time I was with them was for my grandma's funeral. Tonight was much more positive!

For me, my holiday is over so I think it would be a good time to write a gratitude list. Since it's now the wee hours of the morning, I'll write 5 things I'm grateful for - although there are so many more!!!

1. I love my family and that includes my chosen family. 

2. G.A. and my special friends in the program fill my life with recovery, a connection to a higher power, and a constant reminder of the progress I've made in my life.

3. The open mindedness and acceptance of so many people I've met in the past six months. They make it easier for me to face telling my truth the next time.

4. Life has so many possibilities. Instead of making my life having limits, my experiences have only broadened what opportunities are available to me.

5. I am finally being given the opportunity to see my father tomorrow. It will be the first time since 2010 and since he's been ill.

Holidays are always a time to remember what we are grateful for and trying to keep everything else in perspective!

Officially on Vacation Supported by my PO

Vacation? Yes. Vacation! With my PO's permission!! Today was my last day of work for 1 1/2 weeks. I thought I'd have to work tomorrow, but at 5:50pm tonight, my boss and I uploaded our cover sheet to the federal government and officially filed our annual performance review a week early and we high fived one another. There's no reason to come in tomorrow, she informed me. I'm off til the 5th.

I have plenty to be doing, but it's all on my time now for a bit. I like that flexibility. Right now I'm focusing on finishing wrapping gifts and packing for our trip. We leave tomorrow late afternoon and spend tomorrow night with my mom. My mom, being the good Jew she is, is making a ham, green bean casserole, jello mold and more for dinner. We usually do Chinese food and a movie, but I guess she wanted to do something a little different this year.

Christmas Day will be with Sporty's family with likely more ham, more green bean casserole, and a lot of Christmas cookies! We fly out that night to Arizona to see my father.

My dad's brain tumor is still there, but has not grown. I guess that's good news?!? His cancer is also in his hip bone now. That puts his cancer starting in his bladder to his brain and then his hip. They will do another PET scan next week and I'm a bit scared for where they'll find the next location. It was a miracle he made it to now and I fear if these three days with him may ... Well, I shouldn't go there, should I?

Anyway, I'm not expecting much from the trip. My dad's stroke in 2013 left him unable to fully communicate his thoughts. 

In other news, I stopped in on my PO today. Took an hour to get through talking to him. Nothing is quick. He approved me to go to a GA conference out of state at the end of January and to a couple meetings I have out of state as well. So far so good with him. As I was finishing up, he realized it has been nearly six months of my supervision and he hasn't done a urine analysis since the beginning... So even though I just happened to stop in, suddenly I was told to pee in a cup with a female PO watching. No problem... Except, I always have the worst aim!!! I made a total mess! Their cups are like really narrow and especially splashy and ... Well... Let's just say nothing was dry by the time I finished my sample - eeewwww. Glad I don't have to do that often. I have nothing to worry about in terms of results!

I think I should start bringing a funnel with me just in case...

Anyway, right now, I have no worries. I'm on vacation. It's a vacation I can afford because I'm staying with family and I no longer gamble. It's a vacation where I can spend time with people I care about. I love vacations!!!

A Happy Holiday

It's been a very good holiday. Sporty, T.S., and TS' little sister (share a dad) are all celebrating with me, even though they are not Jewish. We are doing Chanukamas or Christmakah in our home I guess you could say. We have my menorah up and their tree up. There are stockings for us all, but while theirs are red and white, mine is blue and white. If we weren't a family, I would not celebrate Christmas, I certainly do not celebrate any religious connotations of it, but we are family and it's nice sharing my traditions with them and theirs with me.

Tonight was even more special, Joy and Traveler came over for matzo ball soup and latkes (potato pancakes). We all lit the menorah together. My gift tonight was a small autoethnography book and immediately Joy said, "nerd," with perfect timing. It could have been a set of Big Bang Theory. It was a very enjoyable evening and such a difference from how the holidays were inside Carswell last year.

I'm trying to send out cards to everyone who helped support me emotionally over the past several years. I made some simple cards. I've been much busier at work than I thought I'd be, so I may need to travel with it as a project. I'm okay with that. I actually have many goals for while I'm on my trip. I am going to read, work on my application, work on my thesis proposal, and write these cards. 

I'm even sending cards to people that I'm not sure want to hear from me. I guess it doesn't matter, though. I just have to try to do the right thing on my side. One person I wrote was someone who is also home but things did not end great when she left Fort Worth a few months prior to me because of this blog. People had learned about the blog and rumors spread that I was gossiping about people, using their real names, and doing really awful stuff on here. 

I have no idea if she ever looked at this blog to see what it's really about and she was certainly not the only one who turned their back on me after learning about this blog. However, I liked this woman, so I wrote her. Clean up my side of the street. Wish her well. All I can do. 

Tomorrow night will start the last day of Chanukah (Jewish holidays start the night prior). I think I'll remember this years as one of my favorites. It's not about the gifts. It's not about the food. It's that every night we are home. We light the menorah. I sing the prayer and we sing the Oh Chanukah song together and it really feels like we are together. It feels special, important, and fun. I already know that Christmas is going to be special as well. I'm so grateful to be home and relatively free for the holidays!!!

A New Direction

Sometimes writing something really sticks with me and that happened this past week. I wrote that I needed to stop trying to catch up with who I was before I went away and start being who I am today. I was reminded just yesterday, that's what living one day at a time is all about. Perhaps since my prison release, I've actually been failing in my own recovery beliefs and so caught up in it, I didn't even realize it.

This is why recovery is a journey and a lifelong act. No matter how long we are clean and/or sober, there is always work we can be doing on ourselves. No one can force this on us, we need to see it for ourselves and want to do the work.

So, what does being who I am today mean? Well, I still want to be a professor and I'm proud to be going into criminal justice. However, I'm going to stop being sad that I am spending time in Master's courses, because that is obviously where I need to be right now in order to learn what I need to know. I start the new application into the official doctoral program this week and two of my professors from this semester are writing me letters of support. My other letters of recommendation are coming from my former fellowship supervisor and my undergraduate professor/mentor. I know it will be a strong application. I will start writing my personal statement this week.

My next thing is to manage my time better. I've spent way too much time running around chasing my past. I need time with family and friends and much more time by myself. I need time to workout and to try to get back into shape. I learned in prison to wake up earlier, so I should take advantage of mornings and make sure I get a good night's sleep.

I need to plan out my studying like a job. No more cramming and late nights. I'm not 20-something. I've been too hard on my body since getting out of prison. Pushing it to far. I need to be kinder to myself. I need a study schedule that I stick to that is a priority that not only I respect, but that Sporty and T.S. know and therefore can respect as well- like another job. I'm working toward a PhD- very important.

I need to schedule in some time for friends, card writing, and just keeping in touch. I know the importance of letters and cards and phone calls and it's my turn to pay it forward. I need to schedule that in as well. 

I'm not calling this a New Years resolution, it's what I am doing because I need to do it for me! This is who I am today. It's a little different than who I was before I went away. Prison changes us. We don't know all the ways and I'll write about some of that later. For now, I just needed to reflect on how I need to let me be me now, and stop trying to be me then.

Going for a Drive

Tonight, Sporty and I decided to take a short road trip to a Gambler's Anonymous meeting about an hour and a half away from where we live. We'd heard that the meeting struggled with having regulars, and knew that the secretary of the meeting was trying very hard, so we wanted to show support. Plus, it's always a good thing to go to another meeting.

We arrived just on time, and wouldn't you know it - it was the largest meeting since their start just over a year ago. About 14 people in attendance, with clean times from less than a week to one and half years (other than Sporty and I with 6 1/2 yrs each). It was a great, well-run meeting. They were still trying to get through everything within an hour, which was not possible with so many people having just relapsed and a newbie in the room, so it got extended. I'm glad that most the meetings I attend back home have no general time limit - it's about giving everyone a chance to talk - usually for about 5 minutes each. In this region, some meetings limit people to 30 seconds or a minute. Sometimes, that is just not enough time for someone struggling with something.

I really did like tonight's meeting. The people were so warm and inviting to Sporty and I as well. I remember when I was new in the program and someone with a lot of time would be in the room (I'm talking 15, 20, or even 30+ years). I would look at them and just wonder how on earth they did it. I couldn't imagine a day without gambling and how my life could ever come together again, and here they were with a real life that no longer included gambling, yet they were still at the meetings - sharing their experience, strength and hope. At 6 1/2 years, my experience does not come close to what was offered by so many in the rooms I experienced, however tonight, Sporty and I were seen as those people in a room where only 1 person had more than 6 months clean. One person said to Sporty that she wished she could be as strong as she is - we both told her that she can be - one day at a time. Not so long ago, we, too, felt so weak.

I'm trying hard to reflect on this and also respect the tenants of the program - "who you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here..." such important words that I believe in SOOO very much. We also believe in anonymity for the program's sake - Step 11 of the Unity program states, "our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, films, television, and Internet." I suppose I have a aura of personal anonymity - but not really. I choose to be open and out about being in GA and sharing my story of how it has helped me become a much better person. I get that I shouldn't be pulling people out of casinos and forcing them into meetings (it wouldn't work - you have to want help), but if people don't know about success stories, why would they want to join? AA has millions of success stories that people know about. People don't know about gambling addiction that much.

I just saw a movie preview for "The Gambler" movie that is being released this week. It looks like another movie that will make the life of a compulsive gambler look like it's always connected to the mob, fighting, the underground, highest of stakes, etc. It's like a glorification and hitting bottom at it's worst. For all of us in the GA rooms, we are just regular joe shmoes. I've known a few with connections to bookies and the mob, but not many. Most were losing their paychecks. Most were never beat up - other than beating themselves up after a big loss. They lost their houses, their families, and their jobs, but the majority never looked at the end of the barrel of a gun, unless it was their own and they were thinking of suicide. Hollywood knows nothing of the real life of a compulsive gambler. A compulsive gambler struggled to pay the toll on the way home from the casino, because they literally spent their last penny in the casino. A compulsive gambler wrecks their brain trying to come up with a story to explain to their spouse on why they are walking in the house at 3am again, when they said they were running out for some groceries, but ended up at a casino for six hours and didn't dare answer their phone. A compulsive gambler stares at a pile of bills on their table that they know they can't pay because they just lost 3x that amount in one day at the casino the day before and are now pacing trying to figure out how they are going to pay their mortgage/rent. A compulsive gambler pays childcare apologetically because they are late picking up their child again, as they raced out of the casino and hit traffic on their ride back to their hometown where they were supposed to be to pick up their child on time.

I didn't personally do everything a compulsive gambler can do, and I did many things compulsive gamblers do. The list is unending what a real compulsive gambler is capable of and what makes rational sense when you are a compulsive gambler. The craziest thing of all, is that when we are in the rooms - in the GA rooms - we find out - none of us did these things without someone else doing something just like it. No two compulsive gamblers do the same crazy things - but we all do irrational things. That's the chaos of this addiction. That's why we need our meetings. We need to hear other people's stories and be like, "oh my god, I did that too!!!" We realize that we are not alone. The best thing GA ever gave me was the realization that I was not a "broken" human being. I was sick. GA provided me some of the healing I needed and I will continue to need it for the rest of my life.

Sporty and I have set a goal to try to attend a new meeting every month. Some will take a short trip, some much longer. It will be nice to hear new stories and, perhaps, some very familiar ones along the way. We are going to try to fit in some regional GA conferences as well. It's all about our recovery, giving back to the program that has given us to much, and growing as individuals. The worst thing we can do is become complacent. Recovery is a journey, not a resting place. Tonight, was our first adventure and I am very glad we took it.

Too Much Distance

I'm in need of my besties. Today proved that. Out of the blue, I received a text from Traveler inviting me to lunch. We sat and caught up - other than a few times over the last several months, we really haven't had much time together. The same is true with all my local friends - Cache and I have hung out only 2-3 times, Joy and I about the same... it's true for all my friends close by. Then considering my friends back home, and it's even worse. I once talked to Survivor every couple days at least, now we catch up at most every week, sometimes even less. Same with all my close friends back home.

Being out with Traveler was good, though. It was nice to catch up on her life. So much can happen and she's such a genuinely good person. She also treated me to lunch and I didn't understand why. She said it was to celebrate my getting through the semester. Then she pointed out all these things I've overcome in the last five or so months - release from the BOP, finding out that I was officially back in school just hours before classes started, flairs of my health condition, my grandmothers death,  going back to work, a new major, more credits than I had to take on, moving in and taking on "family," where I lived along before going away, etc. I started to tear up. I hadn't even thought of this past semester in those ways. I just kept running, running, running, and trying to stay on top of everything and not letting anything - especially my new "Felon" written across my forehead (figuratively) keep me from achieving anything. I suppose Sporty tries to tell me these things, but we live together and I know she is always kind to me, hearing it from someone else helped me really hear it. I think what I hate about taking on all that is that I inevitably put distance between me and all those I really care about. I keep saying I'm going to do better. I must do better. My life and all these goals are nothing if I am not a good person to the people who are angels in my life.

Maybe the right plan for me isn't to try and catch up with the person I was before all the legal stuff came down in 2013, but to slow down and catch up with who I am today. I don't necessarily know what that means exactly. I mean, I intend to still chase my goals, but I need to breathe. I need to spend time with the people I care about. I need to let people know that they matter, too. I have some time right now to put all these thoughts together and be kind to myself and really meditate on what it all means. I intend to do just that. In the mean time, I need to thank Traveler for my unexpected lunch and her incredible friendship over the years. Her energy from the minute I met her was the kind that one just wants to be around. She has an incredible way of helping me find broader perspective as well. It's time I stop putting distance between myself and everything important and stop running so much and just slow down and enjoy more moments like lunch with a good friend.

A Police Escort

I'm not supposed to have any interaction with the police. Well, that's not exact true. Any police interaction I have, means I need to call my PO and inform him of the interaction. Yesterday, I received a police escort for two miles but luckily, I don't think the cop knew my name, so I think I'm safe from having to report in. Although, I suppose I could've received a ticket for going below the speed limit...

I can officially cross a 5k off my bucket list. I did not run. I did not do well. I was last from the very beginning. I limped my way around the entire race having fallen behind even the other slowest walkers during the first block of the walk. 

My body did not hold up well. My enthesitis (Achilles issues) started going crazy by the 3/4 mile. My limp was very pronounced by the halfway point. At mile 2.2 or so, I was offered a short cut. I said, "no short cuts." If I was going to finish a 5k, I was going to really finish.

The cop car, with lights on, just slowly creeped behind me making sure no one hit me! I wasn't alone. An older lady from the organization was responsible for walking with the last walker, so she walked with me, talked to me, and generally kept me companionship. Joy and Sporty were with me at times, but the pace was a bit too slow for their long legs. I could see them not walking too fast in front of me throughout most of the course. They waited for me at the end so we could cross the finish line together.

The announcer said my name loudly so all could hear that I was crossing the finish line. For me, I was proud to have finished, but I did not want that public recognition of my being absolutely last. No one needs to know the struggles I have to just be able to move my body at times. I felt embarrassment more than pride.

I hope that when "flair season" is officially over for me, I will find I am walking easier once again. Plus, my doctor is changing my medication away from Enbrel to Cimzia this month. Not sure if it'll make a difference. What I do know is that a day later, I am barely able to move and walking 3+ miles is nothing.

I looked around after the 5k for the officer to thank him for the escort, but didn't see any officers around. I suppose it's a good thing. I am supposed to report ANY interactions with police. It would just be a waste of my POs time to have to read a report saying: "an officer had to escort me from behind within his vehicle while I slowly walked a 5k on Saturday and I thanked him after." So, I just put it out to the universe, I'm glad I was not alone and very grateful - I had Joy and Sporty walking a slow pace in front of me, a nice volunteer walking my incredibly slow pace beside me, and an officer driving and staring at my rear end behind me. I was well buffered as I finished my first ever 5k.

Oops Wrong Number

Okay, I admit, it's been a really long week. I also did myself and my health a disservice. I 'should' have requested the health accommodation I am allowed and had my last go around in school. My extremely long hours and having everything due at the same time was not good for me. I've been struggling through a mini flair now and a migraine. I know better. Worse yet, my grades suffered. Is it pride that kept me from requesting my accommodations? Probably. I just fought so hard to get back in. It never even occurred to me that my health would be such a struggle this semester. Oh well. Whatever my final grades turn out to be, the semester is now behind me and I'm still happy about my decision.

I do need to admit perhaps a funny story or its a story of the level of my stress - you decide. On my exam on Wednesday, I had to write my student number (no names), on the top of my exam. Well, today, through a kinda Backward way, I learned that instead of writing my student number, I wrote my INMATE NUMBER! I kid you not!! Now, I've had to give my student number many times over the past four months without fail, so I'm not sure why at that moment I was back under federal custody and giving my federal id number. Ugh.

I wrote my professor to let her know the mistake and I didn't say what the other number is, but if she looks closely at the numbers, she can probably figure it out - ha! She doesn't know- yet- my story. At least not from me. 

Okay, so who does that? I guess I do. I guess my stress level or something this week put me back into that head space. I don't know. But I much prefer to be known by my student number than my federal number. Oy, certainly a funny, embarrassing, over the top story that I just had to share with all of you!

Wow - I Needed That

Every once in a while I get the urge to look at my blog's stats and see how things are going here. I guess they are okay - given that I've been slow in writing. I'm sorry about that. My school work has my total focus right now and when I'm not studying or working, I am trying to not be attached to technology. I just stare at this computer or my phone too often. Plus, I'm not quite sure where this blog is going anymore. That's the honest assessment. Sometimes, I have something to share - something that I think is beneficial - like an interaction with my PO or something like that - but otherwise, my life is actually pretty boring. I'm no longer the woman heading off to prison. I'm once again me - doing school, attending GA meetings, hanging with my friends, working - and I happen to be on Federal Supervision - but so far, that hasn't been a huge burden to write about.

I remember being in prison and hearing so many people talk about how HARD it was to be on supervision - all the rules, all the restrictions. Am I just lucky thus far? Will this get harder? If it does, I certainly WILL share that with you. I've heard of people have several switched of PO's and every one of them being different. Knock on wood, I pray that does not happen to me. Is my supervision especially easy because I do not have a background of drugs/alcohol, so I do not have to go in for frequent urine tests, etc? Is it because I fall into a white-collar crime, rather than a street-type crime? Well, I know of others with similar offenses who are experiencing all levels of supervision anxiety. I do think that people who need to stay "clean" from drugs/alcohol would have a tough time if they are not in true recovery - or if they have to stay away from felons, but end up in a relationship with one (happens more often than you could imagine). These things brought people back to Carswell. I certainly have no plan to ever step foot in Texas again...

I'm just taking it all a day at a time and so life really is just full of those mundane daily observations of life. I have a pile of books I can't wait to read. I'm looking forward to finally seeing my father before he has yet another pet scan (his radiation treatment is just about ending - cancer still there, but is it growing?). I'm looking forward to the holidays and spending time with my family. I'm finally starting to make plans for the next steps in my life, and I think things are looking good.

However, right now, as you all know, I've been stressed. School has me full of angst. So much worry and trouble to get back in and I'm overwhelmed with the work I have to complete before this Wednesday - but it WILL be complete by Wednesday. The best thing my little look at my stats did for me was show me that someone was reading the blog and looking at my January, 2014 posts - so I was curious and went to the posts. I read about 4-5 of them, and I am fully grounded and back in the groove for the long haul now to just do the best I can do over the next 48 or so hours. Life is good. School is good. I am so grateful for everything and all the good that has come into my life this year. It's certainly been quite the year!!!! I needed that look back so that I can focus on what is before me right now.

I'm not sure who chose to be reading those posts and I know they had no idea that I would follow their link to them and start reading a couple from that time. I want to thank them, though, because they provided me the perspective I need to succeed and persevere through this very short stressful time. This blog has saved me so many times already, so I suppose it still has a purpose and as long as I have something to write, I will keep writing.

Maybe this is Harder than I Thought it Would Be

I'm one week from the end of my first semester and I have to admit that it's been a struggle lately. I've pulled two late nights in a row to ensure projects/papers are complete on time and I will barely get a chance to breath before I have to cram two more papers and preparation for a huge final exam over the next several days. I don't remember it being this physically demanding and stressful before I went to Carswell. It got me to thinking, maybe there really is something to the need to take things slowly once out of prison.

I came out and jumped right in, didn't I? I worked so hard to get myself back in school and put myself on the fast lane so that I can get officially into the doctoral program within a year. I'm tired though. I didn't think about my need for more balance. I hate that I don't feel as if I am communicating with my friends and family as much as I wish I were. All these incredible people did so much for me which I was away and I barely have the energy available to send a note or even a text sometimes. If I had this last five or so months to do over again, I would have chosen to take only the required 6 credits and eased myself in a little bit. That would be my recommendation to others who are just looking to get their lives back to ordinary as fast as possible.

I also notice that I think about everyone I met back at Carswell a lot, especially now during the holidays. They were certainly unique relationships, but so important to my sanity as I did my best to get through the realities of day after day there. As I've been reading, learning, and hearing more first hand accounts of life at prison camps, where most people with crimes such as mine are imprisoned, there is no real comparison to the world in which I and my fellow inmates had to endure. It was a short part of my life, but the affect may take a long time to wear off.

In just a week, this semester will be behind me and I will have a month to be working, starting the analysis for my thesis, and preparing my application for the doctoral program. I will also have opportunity to really catch up on the news - just watching for a moment about the most recent death in NYC of another black man caused by police use of force makes me glad I am entering a field where I may be able to be part of the solution of a major criminal justice issue. In fact, one of my own professors is on tonight as an expert on many news stations. One day I will be a professor and perhaps I will have something to say one day that will not be about my own experiences, but rather about helping and changing the lives and experiences of others.

In the meantime, I need to just take it all a day at a time, accept that this won't be the best semester of work I've done, but I will have successfully completed another semester of school and be closer to my goals. Sometimes it is hard to remember that we need to be kind to ourselves and not expect too much from ourselves, especially when we are already at a stressful state of being. Truth is, I am still happy, I am still so very grateful, and life is a journey and I'm enjoying the ride.

An interesting study from Australia

One thing I love about what I'm studying is that I am constantly coming across interesting things that I can share here... Recently there was a study in Australia about the prevalence of fraud cases connected to compulsive gambling. I found it interesting and so I am sharing it here...
http://www.warfield.com.au/Warfield_Gambling_Fraud_08_10.pdf

Holiday Gifting

It's the time of year where people want to know what I want for the holidays. I've had an Amazon list for years and I've done my darnedest to update it. Truth is, I don't need that much. I'd also rather people think about me and find gifts they think I'd like than me have to guide them toward the right gift. It's selfish, maybe, but I don't need any gifts, really, but if someone wants to buy me something, I would prefer them put some thought behind the gesture.

I do my best to do that for each person I purchase gifts for. I may look at their "wish lists," but ultimately, it's about things that remind me of them or things I think they could use, or funny things, or fun things they'd never buy themselves, that catch my eye and I want to give them. I also don't need the holidays to buy someone their gift. I bought a gift for Cashe like four months prior to her birthday because I saw it and had to get it. People put too much pressure on themselves to find all their gifts in November/December for loved ones. There aren't just sales now and gift giving is not just about "things," it's about memories and the people we are giving the gifts to. I always try to give gifts that result in memories if I can.

I'm not going to say that I do not enjoy receiving gifts. I do. I enjoy giving gifts just as much. On my birthday, I give gifts to everyone I celebrate with - not just receive gifts. I mean, they chose to celebrate with me - just like the goody bags we gave our guests when we were young. There were many, many years that my holiday gift consisted of a check, usually arriving late, from my mom and step-dad. I would tell them every year that I would rather they took the time to find a gift that had thought behind it, but the check showed up each year. I would thank them, and then I would lose every penny of it at a casino. Their gifts gave me a couple hours of addictive action. Crazy that I actually verbally asked for something different. Something with meaning.

Now, when the check shows up each holiday season, it is deposited into my bank account. It is used for my winter trip or something else needed. I don't pay bills with it, I know that was not it's purpose and I budget my general income for that purpose. It's not a ton of money, but a meal or two can be paid by my folks' holiday gift and we can toast them at the time for thinking of me at the holidays. I appreciate that. I know that they do not send me a general gift because they simply do not know what to send - no matter how many things I add to my Amazon wish list - I will still receive an annual check. At least I am not gambling it away. One year my step-dad was pissed at me for being unemployed and he sent me black licorice in a package that said "coal" as a joke and I received no check that year. Every year I hear the story, "as least I'm not sending you black coal this year..." The one year I really needed those extra funds, I didn't receive them - I was young then, mid-20's, and very, very broke and broken.

Anyway, I am nearly done shopping for the gifts I plan to give out. I cannot afford to give gifts to everyone I want to or as big of gifts as I wish I could. I'm still on a tight budget and still just a grad student and newly out of prison. I'm okay with that, though. It's the holidays and I will participate in the way I can and will show those I love that I am thinking of each of them with the gifts I am able to give them. Unless begged to do so, I will never give someone just money or a simple gift card, I fear it lacks imagination and thought to do so. Some people really want those things and I will provide what they want. When people receive a gift from me, though, I give it a lot of thought an energy - and then seek out the best deal for what I want. The best part is giving the gift away. I love seeing everyone's reactions - and pray they love the presents. If not, I can always give them cash or a gift card next year, I suppose.

The Solo Thanksgiving

At first, we were going to have a nice small Thanksgiving holiday. Then, a friend was going to come in and visit and it was going to be a bit more cheerful. Then, things once again changed and I am here by myself for the holiday. It's not the first time I've been alone for Thanksgiving and it is certainly not the loneliest. In fact, I am perfectly happy spending this holiday solo. I have a couple papers to be working on and can really use the down time for myself. I certainly do not require a turkey dinner to make myself feel special. I know I am loved and I did receive invitations for holiday feasts - only they were back home - out of state - and being under supervision, I am unable to just go. A couple days for me and Superdog to just spend together. Perfectly fine for me!

When I was in my gambling days, I spent plenty of Thanksgivings alone. Some, I would go to the movies. Perhaps I'd see 1, 2, even 3 movies. I'd feel sorry for myself that I had no family nearby and no one to spend the holiday with. I was either in school far away from home, all my close friends had left to spend the holiday with their families, or I was in a period of isolation from others. I'd inevitably be trying to get to a casino - depending on where I lived - a short 10 minute drive or an hour drive or a three hour drive from where I lived. Once at the casino, I no longer thought about Thanksgiving, I was lost in my dream world of diamonds, spades, hearts, and clubs, ringing bells, nameless faces, twirling die, and where money had no real value... my life had no value... the holiday had no value... my friends had no value... nothing had any value. Year after year after year of turkey days finding myself lost with nothing really to be grateful for because I didn't even understand what gratitude really meant.

As I embark on this year's Thanksgiving, I have a list much longer than I could ever write of things I am grateful for. Depending on whether I count from when I was released from Carswell or released from Home Confinement, I have officially been out for 5 months from coming home on home confinement and 6 months from Carswell. My life is good and full of wonderful people and possibilities. I have great friends, loving family, a Superdog, a job that means something to me, a new career outlook, this blog, GA and continued recovery, a livable budget, health insurance, opportunities, a reasonable PO, mentorship, spirituality, my Carswell connections, the ability to pay my restitution and pay as much forward as I can, personal growth, a home, a car, memories, and so, so, so much more... I don't need a day of Thanksgiving to remind to be grateful or Thankful. Everytime I make a choice/decision differently than I would have during my addiction years, I thank my Sponsor, counselor, and every friend who helped me through my early years - because I am able to make healthier decisions today - I am a better person today. I am not a perfect person - far from it - but a better person.

Anyway, so I spend tomorrow alone and I work on a paper and there's no better way for someone who was in prison a year ago to spend Thanksgiving this year! It's doing what I want to do and what I need to do. I have four papers to write - one is due Friday (small paper), two next week, and one the following. So, I have a lot of work to do. I'm perfectly happy and will enjoy the holiday - much moreso than last year and way more than all my years at movie theaters and casinos. I'm totally at peace.

Finding New Allies

The beauty of living life in honesty, is the ability to build connections with people who I'd fear doing so if I was trying to hide my past. Yesterday in my doctoral seminar, a new professor to my department was presenting on his journey through his education and how he successfully found a position in a top CJ program at a tier 1 university. It was an interesting conversation, but my ears especially perked up when he talked about his doctoral research and dissertation topic --- why employers choose to not prosecute employees who steal from their businesses. He is interested in white collar crime - from the business/employer point of view.

After the seminar, I approached him and said, very matter of factly, "I am one of those employees who worked for one of those employers you researched and I would love your input into my thesis..." I went on to tell him about how I am transitioning my blog entries from my time incarcerated into an autoethnography and he immediately drew a smile. He thought it would make a great thesis and also agreed that it has a high potential to be used in classrooms and elsewhere - because gaining this research is so difficult generally.

I asked if he would be open to talking with me about helping me present my past in such a way that I am able to be respectful to those who are the victims of my crime. I never want anyone to think that I do not think about the community (my community) and all my former friends and colleagues that were affected by my actions, even as I have done so much work on myself and try everything I can to help others. If I am going to be writing something public, then I want to make sure I am being contentious of how I am coming across to those who are likely to continue to harbor a lot of anger toward my crime.

After hearing this professor speak, I knew that he was the person who would be able to challenge me in just the right ways to make sure I have that point of view - the point of view of the victims - taken into account. It is the least I can do. While this research is about the experience of being incarcerated, I am going to have to introduce what brought me there and I there are just a ton of ways one can do that.

The professor already recommended a book of a man who struggled with a similar issue while incarcerated --- how does he balance the man he's become with the man he was... I look forward to reading the book. I actually picked up two books at the library today. One is called, "Out on the Run," and is a  book that is making a big splash for an ethnography written by a woman who lived among the people she was researching for six years while doing her dissertation research. I want to read it to see how her voice and thoughts are written throughout the book. The other book is called, "Doing Life," and is a woman's kinda autoethnography (it is edited by someone else) of doing time in prison. It did not receive good reviews, generally, and one thing I read in the reviews is that people should not care at all about the author, because she killed her husband. I want to read it, though, because it is the closest book to what I am going to be writing and I want to see what is written well and not so well in it.

However, I really want to learn from the latter book about how the woman presents herself. Going back to why I want to talk to my new ally in my CJ department, I do not want people looking at anything I write and saying that what I have written lacks value because of my past. I want to offer valuable research and I do not want personal differences to become what my writing becomes known for - that is not why I am spending years in school. So, it looks like I will be spending my winter break reading quite a few books.

In the meantime, I am just glad that my department continues to offer me incredible colleagues to work with who are able to offer me so many diverse perspectives. If I had to start all over again, I am glad it's a very different experience than the first time. The first experience was great and this is great too - just different and I will learn so much. The best thing about living a day at a time is that every day can bring us new opportunities as long as we are open to them!

Risking Rejection

When your in grad school, a ton of opportunities come through your email on a regular basis. Some are sent college wide, some to just the students in specific disciplines, and others are more specifically sent to students. Those are the ones that interest me the most, they are the opportunities that the sender specifically thought I might be a good fit for based on something I've done in the past, an interest I have, or something similar. Such was the case this week when I received an email inviting me to apply for consideration for a fellowship that will start this spring.

The fellowship covers some of the areas of research and interests I was studying prior to my incarceration, however, it is a subject that is not limited to education and applies just the same to any discipline in higher education - such as my current one - criminal justice. Therefore, even though my major has changed, I am still interested in the issues and could still be considered for the fellowship. The invite simply said that it was being sent to those of us involved with the project in some way over the past year or so. As we know, I was not part of the project at that time, I was prior, so I'm not sure how or when my name was added, but I received the invitation. Also, the professional colleague who is responsible for the fellowship is kinda connected to my former department in several ways, so I did not know if they would be open to an application from me. That's always my fear - the judgement - even though I can do nothing of other people's judgement of me. If I decide they will judge me poorly and let it affect me, then I decide to limit my own opportunities. That is not anyone's fault but my own. So, I will not let such fears hold me back. I wrote up my application. Stared at it for several minutes to make sure I had the courage to press 'send.' Then off it went to the servers in the sky.

An hour later, I received an email reply. It felt warm and friendly thanking me for applying. It actually said that they were "glad" I applied. Whew. I know many will apply. I will not kid myself that I will be selected automatically. I am just glad that I did not allow all that negative talk in my head and those fears stop me from taking this chance. The fact that I've feared that this formerly wonderful collegial relationship was forever tarnished is not (based on the warm response) helps me already feel as if I have been rewarded for applying. Sometimes, we need to put our best selves forward and take a risk. We may not get what we want, but we may actually get something even better - one less fear holding us back!

A Carswell Shower

I'm not sure what occurs that makes it happen, but every so often, I am right back there at Carswell and it's as if Scotty has beamed me suddenly. It happened during my shower. It should have been a quick in/out shower, but instead I was in One South during the holidays of 2013, The Grinch who Stole Christmas was our Theme. My roommate hadn't been busted for drugs yet. South and Lola were my constant companions. We were all so lonely for our families and friends. Thanksgiving without our loved ones was the pain we tried to hide.

South is home and I pray is happy and once again surrounded by family. Lola is still at prison camp, but at least she's not behind the fences. Taz has a couple holiday seasons to go. I hope this is Mama's last, maybe Glitter's too. Nurse is closer to home, in California at a camp (or at least I think she is). I am not sure if Cali was close behind her or is still waiting. Chi will be at the camp for several years yet. I wonder what the holidays are like at the camps. Red is home with her babies. Freckles is at the halfway house, but will be on home confinement before the end of the year. I'm so glad she gets to spend her holidays with her husband. 

For those still behind the fence, their creative minds are running rampant right now trying to come up with a great unit theme. The bragging rights for being the best decorated unit is huge! The creative talent is unbelievable. I was explaining to our niece this weekend that I think so many of the women get mixed up with drugs and illegal activity because they are brilliant creative artists, but cannot learn traditionally in school and fall through the cracks. To survive, some end up on the streets and make choices that result in illegal activities. Their art, though, is incredible. I saw people create things in five minutes with subpar supplies that top art students couldn't do in weeks. Its not just one person, either, so many of them!

Not sure why all these things came to my mind in what was to be a quick shower, but I immediately knew that I need to make sure that my friends know that someone cares about them during the holidays. I may not be allowed to write or email, but they are allowed to receive books from Amazon. Perhaps a shipment of books will be finding their ways into the hands of some of the people I care about over the next couple months. They may never know they are from me, but they will know that they are not alone for the holidays!

A Simple Weekend

We had visitors for the last several days. Sporty's parents came in and we've been enjoying their company and keeping very busy. Six of us have been snuggled throughout our home, and it feels like a real home. I totally enjoy days filled with short road trips, sightseeing, a little shopping, listening to family stories, spending time with the young adults, and being a host. 

Sporty's father was recently diagnosed with the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. These are the times we need to cherish and he's still has quite the memory. Sporty's mom is full of energy. She's a lot of fun and just loves hanging out on facebook and being around family. If she could, I think she'd stay through the end of the week. They leave in the morning, though.

Today, I spent much of the day with T.S. and her first cousin Bracelets. They are just three months apart in age and have always been like sisters. Bracelets goes to school a couple hours away and joined us for the weekend since her grandparents were here. Today, the three of us went to the library together and, using the pomodoro technique, worked on our separate papers for school. We successfully studied for about 3 hours and avoided distraction using the technique. Success - and I taught them a new way to study. I have a lot more to do on my paper, but I'm much further than I was prior to today!

Tonight, I saw a decent movie, Whiplash, with T.S. and Bracelets. They are young adults, so it's very nice that they want me to tag along with them. Family really is awesome - even when they aren't the ones that are blood related.

Oy, I'm soooo tired and I have to be up at 6am to attend a conference for work. So, I'll just be grateful for a very nice weekend.

Distraction Overload

I want to quickly update that someone must be mysteriously following this blog, because hours after posting my troubles, a phone call came and Enbrel found its way to my front door today in its cooler like packaging along with paperwork that shows a six month approval. No more month to month approval - it'll be automatically delivered through April. It's almost as if I still have those same miracle workers looking after me from the outside like they were when I was locked up and fought for my Enbrel approval in prison. It'll take a bit for my body to catch up, but I just hope for less days like Monday when I fell up the stairs...

Funny, I wanted to write tonight about distraction and as I was writing the paragraph above I received a text from T.S. simply with, "??" She'd asked me about thirty minutes earlier if I could help her find a source on a writing topic she has. I said, "yes," finished whatever I was doing, and then started writing this. I'd once again gotten distracted from what I intended to do. It's a miracle I remembered to come back to this blog...

In fact, I'd say that, lately, not more than ten minutes into any homework, assignment, project, work obligation, TV show, conversation, song, movie, anything,... My mind is somewhere else. It's horrible. It's rude. It's doing me a disservice. I'm in one class thinking about two others. I'm at work thinking about holiday gifts. I'm in my car putting seven different reminders in my phone. I'm paying bills and the next thing you know, I'm uploading pictures of my niece to my mom and sister.

I'm thinking that my head is especially like this right now because the semester end is near, I'm working on four different research projects, and so I'm juggling a lot of information in my head. I once compared my constant thoughts to someone flipping the channels on a remote control. Right now, I think my head is more like a broken search button on a radio that searches, stops, catches about ten seconds, just starts to like a song, then suddenly starts searching again...

I need to start setting mini goals, using pomodoro, and cutting myself off of the Internet when studying and in class except when necessary. I guess I just put all that out to the world, so I need to start trying. I'll start Monday. 😊

Mandatory Counseling

When the Judge sets your sentence, there are usually several additional provisions given that only pertain to your post prison sentence and are part of your supervision. For me, my Judge put mandatory counseling on my paperwork. This was put there because the Prosecutor requested it and the Judge pretty much went 100% with the Prosecutor's recommendations in my case.

My PO put me in for counseling at the one place they send all their supervisees --- the local catholic charities nonprofit organization --- perfect place to send a nice Jewish girl. That's okay - a good organization is a good organization. Anyway, it took until today for me to have my intake (four month wait), and I made my way there to fill out all the release papers and spend an hour with the assigned counselor, who was quite nice.

I opened up immediately. I have nothing to hide. I nicely shared my story and my recovery. I shared my experiences of prison, life in Carswell, continued support through GA, and life in school, etc. As we started to get toward the end of my session, the counselor said that she could not come up with any goals for my counseling. In the end, she said, "I really do not see a reason for you to be in counseling at this time." I had to agree, but I said I would continue if it is court ordered.

The counselor said she would call my PO and tell him that she did not see a reason for counseling. She said that she would also write something up for my PO about why she felt I did not need to continue counseling. So much of what I needed counseling for I did prior to my federal charges. The Prosecutor put in my paperwork that he thought I needed the counseling because back in 2008, when my life was in total chaos, I was suicidal and broken. Six years later, I am strong and aware of my addiction, and the "whys." I like myself today. I am as far from suicidal as I ever have been in my life. That doesn't even come close... I am just not suicidal at all. I am strong. I am okay with judgement. I am okay with the fact that I am far from perfect. I love many. I am loved. Life is good. Life is not perfect. I am okay no matter what. In the past, none of that was true.

I believe in counseling. Had I not had five years of regular, intensive counseling, in addition to my GA recovery, I would not be able to be the person I am today. I am SO grateful to the program that gave me nearly free counseling and the woman who was a superb counselor and who really, really got me and challenged me in just the right ways. I felt safe and there's no way I held back. I grew and I finally understood that I was not "broken." I forgave many. I forgave myself. I let go. I came to acceptance.

It's just that today I don't need that kind of counseling - not that I won't in the future. Everyone goes through ups and downs. I shared exactly where my life is today, and the counselor just saw a fairly well-balanced person. I certainly still have my good and bad days. I certainly still have anxieties. Overall, though, I am okay. She sensed that. I did not ask to be taken out of counseling. I'm okay having someone sit and listen to me. I love to talk... I was happy, though, to hear her say that there was not a necessity that she could see for me to keep coming. It means that I must be continuing to do something right on my journey of recovery and hope. It's always good to have these check-ins.

Ultimately, my PO and the new local Judge will decide if I have to go to counseling or if I can stop. If they want me to keep going, I will set aside an hour every other Wednesday and be there for the exchange of ideas. I can always learn something and, if anything, I can tell that the counselor was willing to learn more about gambling addiction from me. That happens a lot - we end up teaching about our addiction when we are the successful people to actually be in recovery from it. Whatever happens is fine. Once again, we never know why we are where we are - maybe someone will see this counselor that needs GA and she will remember me and the meeting we started and she will send them our way... maybe that is why I needed to be there today or two weeks from today, or even longer. Maybe, I will learn something I need in my life. Whatever happens is fine. All I have is time to find out.

The Enbrel Crisis

Call your congressmen and women, the President, the local media, anyone who will listen... We are in a crisis... There must be a shortage of Enbrel in the world! No, I'm just joking... There's no shortage that I know of, just incompetence- I think.

Enbrel is an essential part of my medication regiment. How it works and why, I couldn't tell you, just that it helps me have far less pain, stiffness, and fatigue. I inject myself twice per week with the medication that includes some DNA from mice (I believe) and it makes all the difference in the world. 

We already know that Autumn isn't the best time of the year for me, too, so when it was time for my delivery this month (delivered each month on ice from a specialty pharmacy after an approved renewal through my insurance), I never received the phone call to schedule delivery. I called the pharmacy several times, and they said my doctors office never completed the authorization. I'd call my doctor's office and they'd listen to me, call me back later that day and tell me everything is approved and delivery will be scheduled later that day. Then the same cycle starts all over again. It's been 2 1/2 weeks of the same story. Since I receive my medication 2x/week, and this cycle started before my final treatment I still had, I'm now 1 1/2 weeks or 3 treatments off now. 

I'm a mess. I hate to admit that. My stiffness is 3x worse than before throughout my body. I can't reach down and touch my toes, which I proudly could do before. I get winded walking up stairs. I have pain in places I'd forgotten could be painful. I'm sure my inflammatory markers have skyrocketed.

I'll call everyone again tomorrow. I'll explain once again that I still do not have my medication. At $3,000 or so per month, and the need to come from a specialty pharmacy there's no way to just get some... I happen to have an appointment with my doc this week and I know that it will all be sorted out perfectly by then. At most, I'll go without four treatments and then I'll be back on track. 

At Carswell, it took a month to get approved for my Enbrel and that's because I had outsiders advocating with the right people. I went without Enbrel for 9 treatments. At that point, I was barely walking, breathing was heavy, and I slept all day. I hate that I have a chronic health issue that is so controlled by medication, but at least it is controlled to the point that I can control it and my health doesn't control me. I will be back on Enbrel soon. It's a first world problem that I'm having to wait as long as I'm having to, but I can wait. So, call off the emergency search party for Enbrel, I'm sure there will be some on its way to me soon.

Restorative Justice

Is there a real alternative to the criminal justice system? Is there a way to make victims whole, make offenders responsible, and create communities of care? The answer may be restorative justice? I say "may be" because it really depends on how well the program is run, the protections, the process, the goals, and the ways it is implemented.

A good restorative justice program can result in less offenders in prison, victims of nonviolent crimes getting made whole quicker, and levels of pain, guilt and shame reduced for all. Not everyone agrees with this type of program, though. It's a voluntary program. It's usually used with juveniles. The idea is that all the victims and the offender come together with a facilitator and everyone gets to speak in a very systematic question and answer way. It's about release of pain, forgiveness, hearing everyones voice, apologies, understanding why's, agreeing on punishments, etc. It's a little feely type of justice, but it does work in some contexts.

In my class tonight, one of my classmates mentioned that he thought it would be good to have victims get a chance to try a process after prison to tell the offender how much harm they caused. This is the opposite of restorative justice and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I said that so many of us carry way too much shame and guilt into prison and we work so hard to be able to move forward in our lives after doing our time. At our sentencing, we hear everyone's story of how much harm we did. Why would it do any good to put us in front of another firing squad after releasing us from prison. Well, that silenced my class...

I guess being out about my experiences allows me to be a little more emotional in class now too... for better or worse.

In much better news, I officially have my thesis topic and I'm writing on it ... well, kinda. My thesis Chair (he agreed to Chair today) loved my idea of turning my blogs from the time I was in Carswell into an autoethnography. So, between now and end of summer, I will be tearing apart all those writings and writing about 1-2 themes based in criminal justice. The goal will be to provide usable information that can be used to study female and federal prison issues. I'm excited that my experiences may be used in classrooms in the future!

A Felons Right to Vote

A lot of people are usually surprised to learn that congress left it up to the states to decide whether a person with a prior felony has a right to vote - in state and federal elections. Seems odd, felons in one state are allowed to vote for the U.S. President, but felons in another state are not. This year, of course, is not about who will run the country, so much, as who will run the state, local judiciaries, seats in the U.S. house and senate are up for grabs, but as an "off" year, less people will vote than during a "presidential" year.

It's sad, really. Around my campus, the 'get out the vote' campaign was just not that large compared to two years ago when everyone was talking about the election. I hate to admit that I don't even think T.S. is registered to vote (if you are T.S., I'm sorry to say I don't know that you are)... it would have been her first election. People are just not that excited to vote. No one has them talking that much in our state - although they should - our current governor should be ousted - but most people don't even know the person's name running against him. It's so sad!

Like so many others, I HATE all the political ads. I fast forward them, turn a blind eye to them, just generally get so sick of them. But, I still do my homework. I bring up voting guides on my computer and read non-partisan guides to the polls - what do the candidates write to the questions asked? I must admit, I vote a democrat ticket. I will not vote for a republican, because I am not a one-issue voter - and I cannot vote for someone who will go the party line on so many issues that I am against. However, some things - like referendums, judicial candidates, etc are nonpartisan, so I have to read the voter guides to see what the real arguments are and see who is endorsing each side. That gives me a much better understanding of the issue. Sometimes things are written in such a way that we vote the exact opposite of what we mean to vote on an issue. I don't want to accidentally do that. Every vote counts!!

So, why am I doing this? Because I gratefully happen to live in a state that allows felons to vote. It's one of the first things I looked up when I realized I would have a felony to my name. There are so many people in this world who have no rights to say who leads their country's, who reigns over them, who declares the laws of their land, who sits on their judicial benches, etc. We have a right that we take for granted. It wasn't so long ago that women did not have that right. African Americans did not have that right. The disenfranchised in this country have fought so hard for the right to vote. We cannot take it for granted. I am a felon and I have a right to vote and I will vote in every election - big or small because I can!!! My vote matters. My experiences help me be a more knowledgable voter. I'm grateful to have this right!

Whether you have always had the right or not --- go out and vote today!!!!

Oldies but Goodies

Today was a good day. I spent time with friends I've barely seen since being home from Carswell. They are the few non-school friends I've had here and are truly wonderful people. Once we sit to start talking, it's like no time has passed and we can just talk for hours. I love those kinds of friends.

The amazing thing is, though, that none of us live very far away from one another. Yet, months, literally have passed since our last time together. These are two different friends that I met with separately and the truth is, I only blame myself for the failure to ensure that we are getting together. 

After all my friends did for me while I was away, all the gratitude I have for each and every one of them, how is it possible that I fail to see some of them when they live so close? How do I fail to contact those that live further away? I haven't failed keeping in touch with my mother or father, so why do I fail so many of my incredibly friends who never fail me??

By the way, my father is still hanging on there. He's in his third round of chemo & radiation. His brain tumor is still there, but has not grown. A new cancer growth is now in the bone in his hip. That's the third location. I finally have permission to travel to see him in late December. Docs are planning on doing another PET scan right around then.

Back to my failure with my friends. For the most part, I must admit that I do not hear complaints from my friends. They know that school, work, studying, etc keep me very busy. It is very true. I think it's something deeper though.

There's a part of me that knows that I'm not capable of being as good a friend as so many are to me. They have such incredible patience and compassion. I get so lost in thought and sometimes miss a whole conversation because my ADD put me completely somewhere else. I know I do what I can for my friends, but I am always amazed at the incredible kindness of those around me. It's like I'm a not as smart Sheldon, and I'm surrounded by all the Big Banf Theory friends who make my life so wonderful. At least that's how I feel sometimes :-).

I certainly am grateful to have some of the best people possible in this world to call friends. They are interesting, generous, intelligent, kind, sincere, foodies, adventurers, family-orientated, diverse, humorous, passionate, capable, creative, fun, lovely people. I've known some for over twenty years, many for over six, and a few for just a few... And some brand new folks too. Doesn't matter, I know good, when I see good.

Whether we see each other often, every couple months, every few years, or just over facebook, it's okay by me. I know that the next time we pull up a chair next to one another, it will be like no time has passed and our friendship is just as fresh. I may not be deserving of the wonderful that is you, but I am certainly not going to easily let you go!

The "F" Word

It's so freeing being able to talk openly with everyone about being a felon. Last night in class, a student made a comment that felons can never get jobs and I went, "hey," and everyone laughed. Just little things like that make life so much better and at the same time, I actually get to catch people when they are using stereotypes and generalizations that are not true.

Now, I will actually agree that most felons have a very hard time gaining decent employment after gaining the big "F" (felon) added to their application. My suggestion is to always try to find ways to use your past as an asset. Also, education should be an option because there are jobs on campus and that could help boost your resume too. If you have a "I can't" attitude, then you won't. If you have an "I can" attitude" then with your hard work, you WILL! 

I think I do still catch people off-guard now when I just "bring it up" in conversation. They may be talking about what the cost of communication from prison to home is and I'll say - well, I generally spent $70 per month on phone calls and email was five cents per minute... Or we will talk about the lack of benefits for felons coming home and I will mention how Obamacare in extended medicaid states ensures that all ex-offenders get medicaid immediately upon release. That's how I continued my care after FMC Carswell.

It's just so freeing to not just think the thoughts, but to share them. I'm their living, breathing example. I'm N=1 in research terms. In the US 2 million people are currently incarcerated and millions more are on parole or supervision and many millions more are ex-felons. Once again, I'm not special nor unique. In my classrooms right now, though, and for me, my experiences are unique and I'm so happy being able to bring insight, and even some laughter at times, into the classroom.

Back to the halfway house?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be the Captain of your own Ship

In my preparing for success in the PhD program course today, a professor spoke of how to be successful throughout grad school and rule number one was to be in control of your own destiny. No one is going to hand you anything. You have to go after what you want. Start immediately.

I suppose that's been what I've been doing since my release, and perhaps prior. It does not just apply to grad school, it applies to life. We can't just sit back and wait for life to happen to us, it's our job to make it happen for ourselves.

Sure, there's the rare instance where someone does nothing and great things just come to them, but much more often, people work hard, show motivation, and have initiative, and that's what makes things happen.

Today at my job, I watched five youth get pulled out of their tutoring session to meet with the director. They were super nervous - all high school sophomores. I knew why, but they didn't. I watched their faces as my boss started to talk, their nervousness turning to smiles. They've been selected to be put forward for potential scholarships through our university. It's only offered to sophomores involved in pre-college programs who have earned high enough GPA's in high school so far. These five youth earned their nominations and they may receive their first college scholarships before even taking their ACT's! Hard work and initiative!

I heard a story today from a friend who had to give up custody of his sons, even though he knew he was the best patent for them. The court was biased against him/men. He continued to pay for the boys well-being and was a good man to his ex-wife and sons. Two years later, his ex-wife gave him full custody. He believes this happened because he was doing everything right by everyone. Hard to do, but his ex-wife noticed and decided he would be the better parent.

Getting back in my school was all about motivation and initiative. I guess I would add the willingness to take risks and accept failure and rejection and move beyond it quickly is a plus. 

The other thing is that it is never too late to start. I've started from scratch twice in the last seven years. My friend started from scratch twice as well. We often start over after divorce, loss of job, etc. For us felons, our release is a new start. Remember that you are the captain of your own ship. If you want a new job, go after it. If you want to meet that new cute neighbor, introduce yourself. If you want to go back to school, apply. If you want to reconcile with someone, make the first call. If you want to change your life, change it. No one will do these things for you. Believe in yourself!

Baring My Soul

I stood in front of my colleagues and a professor I highly respect and told them my story - most importantly, that I spent last year at a federal prison and I am a felon. You could hear a pin drop. I explained my crime, my addiction, my recovery, my being kicked out of school, my fight back in, and why I am now in CJ. Just yesterday, a classmate was talking about throwing the book at white collar offenders, today they wrote me that I helped remind them that everyone makes mistakes. We all have pasts.

As I walked out of class, a colleague said I was her hero. Hardly. I have not done anything heroic. So many before and after me have done the same. Perhaps I am their first example of a felon who turns their life around or an addict who doesn't relapse. I don't know. I don't see myself as a hero. Heroes are people who run in burning buildings and save people. I wish I had the power to save people from walking a path similar to mine.

I shared that I kept a blog and that this blog helped me survive the experience. My prof asked what I will do with the blog - this "ethnography." It's the first time I've heard it called an ethnography- a writing in research terms based on themes. I said I did not know, but I've been thinking about it since. Have I been writing the data for my thesis all along?

I was worried about how my story came across last night, so I sent my professor an email follow up to make sure it was okay what I shared and to thank him for the additional time. He wrote me that it was, "motivational." While I have a hard time with "hero," I will accept "motivational." I do hope that my story motivates others to overcome obstacles and past mistakes. We can do anything we set our minds to, if we want it enough and believe in ourselves.

I have to admit, as a total extrovert, I was shaking last night. Telling my story and not knowing the reaction was difficult. I said to everyone that they are welcome to judge me, it matters not. I also told them that they can look me up - the media and feds have about 10% of the facts correct. They are also welcome to ask me any question, anytime. I'm more than happy to answer anything. 

Life is so much better without secrets!

Is Addiction a Mitigating Factor?

In class tonight, we are talking about the idea of "mens rea" - the intent of committing crime and the types of things that would mitigate against mens rea. We have a group of high school students in our class tonight and they are very engaged in the discussion and I am keeping my mouth quiet, listening... One classmate of mine questions can a rehabilitative model work on white collar crimes... my professor says, "I have no idea..." there is NO research on the topic. None. No one has looked into any of these issues. The truth is that no one will fund this research. Most white collar crime becomes federal (only 10% of all crime). Then the white collar portion of that is like 4% of that... so like .4% of all crime... Why is there no research, because researchers can only research what they can get funded - unless they are doing their dissertations or still in school. Well, that's me. Maybe I need to do a lot of this stuff over the next several years. There is certainly a need to find the answers!!!

The trouble is separating people who commit white collar crimes due to addiction and desperation from those like Madoff or the Enron scandal. There is greed that leads to huge crime. My crime looks like one of greed, but I was honestly, truly, believing I was helping my organization. Irrational thinking guiding my behavior. A person who donated time and money and who only openly intended good. Addiction brought me to irrational behavior and thinking. With a JD and my history, the judge and everyone believed I "should have known better." Addiction takes away the ability to know anything. Once gambling entered my thoughts, every possible means to the next pull of a handle or the next deal of cards was all that mattered. Period. I thank god every day for my nearly 6 1/2 years clean of gambling one day at a time.

Today, every decision I make is made with a rational brain. I look back at my 14 1/2 years of gambling, and I know how the progression of my addiction carried me to the place where I was no longer the person I was, but rather a person defined and controlled by addiction. I had two lives - a public fake life and a private dark life - and I hated both of them. I hated myself. Relief came in the form of hiding myself in smoky, small, disgusting casinos, where I would hide from anyone I knew and would sell myself and everything I believed in for the next bet. There is nothing that I could imagine that would make me want to go back there ever again. It's a life I hated and I love my life today. I love recovery. I love what I've discovered about myself. I love the fact that I now choose to share my secrets - regardless of consequences.

In fact, in less than 30 minutes, I will share with my class, my story. They will learn about my addiction, my crime, and my being a felon. It fits with tonight's readings and I told my professor that I want to talk and to give me some time to answer questions. It is time. The high school students are gone. It is time for intimacy and to reveal it because there is no reason to hide it any longer. I fear not the backlash, as I am here for a reason. Many students here have parents, relatives, and other experiences with the criminal justice system - that's why they chose this major. I may be the only felon. Especially the only federal felon. Once they get passed their shock, we will all learn together. It will be good. Break is just about over. Time to learn and think and prepare...

A Whole Week

I can't believe I allowed almost a full week to pass without my writing. I was up until after midnight every night making the most beautiful montage of my grandmother. The funeral was Monday and we drove back home yesterday. It was very hard emotionally. Yet, the real emotions were between my mother and her siblings who were on edge with one another the entire time. It broke my heart that I really didn't see them being able to support one another at all this weekend. Well, my aunt and uncle supported one another, but they were pitted against my mom, who was putting all of us up in her two bedroom condo, which also served as the location of the shiva, and everyone was on top of one another. The tension was heavy and I was extremely grateful for my montage project that allowed me to put earplugs in and escape from it all. In fact, everyone supported my project fully and the end result was well worth it. The montage included footage of video from my grandmothers 1945 wedding and honeymoon, family picnics through the years, and a lifetime of photos. She was beautiful, stylish, and oh so loved and the montage showed it all. Married at 18 and spending 52 years with my grandfather before his death almost 20 years ago, and then succumbing to Alzheimers in the last decade, my grandma had strength, wisdom, and a sense of ingenuity that could not be matched by many. It was a privilege to be her granddaughter. I may not have always matched her expectations, but I knew she loved me and I have so many warm memories of her throughout my childhood and beyond.

We all have those mistakes in our lives we wish to erase. I choose to try to integrate them all into who I am and the lessons I've learned. For my grandma, though, after my grandfather passed, we thought it was a fairy tale... a man she dated from high school came back into the picture and kinda swept her off her feet. He wanted to marry her, move her to Florida, promised her travel, fun, and that she would no longer have to work. Well, she did not work anymore, but they barely traveled and he enjoyed living on my grandmother's money, and he did not inform my family that my grandma was starting to show signs of memory issues. I guess he was enjoying his new life with her too much. Six years ago, when he had to come back up north for surgery, my grandma lived with my mom briefly, we all realized how bad she had gotten, started to process their divorce, realized what the guy had done to her financially, and we have never seen or heard from him or his family again. Although her last name was changed to his, she is buried with my grandfather's last name - the name of her true love and name of more than 52 years. As her memory was leaving her, she would talk all the time of my grandfather. She never remembered that she ever had a short second marriage. I'm so grateful that she didn't remember that mistake in her life.

Today, I was supposed to take a midterm exam. This was an impossible task. I simply could not be prepared for such an exam. I had no time to do anything for myself over the last week. My professors are super understanding and the one giving my midterm extended the exam until Monday morning for me. That will give me this weekend to prepare. Perfect. In the meantime, I have several papers also to be working on and a lot of reading to catch up on. I hate missing classes, it always just gets me behind on my work and means a lot more time to make sure I am prepared for the next class. This weekend will be very busy. Tomorrow, I have to concentrate on getting a lot of work caught up at work. Today, though, was low key. I had to take care of myself, make sure my body got the rest it needed, and relieve the stress of the week. Living with chronic illness demands that sometimes I have days like today so that I can have weeks like the one I just had. Tomorrow, I move forward, carrying the knowledge that my four birth grandparents are now all looking down on me and smiling with the knowledge that I am not being defined by my mistakes, but by how I am moving forward despite them all.