Hall Walking

In 2008, not only was my family trying to handle my crisis, but we also had another one - my maternal grandmother was moving back due to her Alzheimer's diagnosis. She'd married just a few years ealier to her high school sweetheart, after my grandfather passed away. The old high school sweetheart turned out to be too overwhelmed to be able to care for my grandma, once her memory issues (mild at the time) started to impact their lives. He was actually a jerk and one good thing of my grandma's Alzheimer's (much more advanced now) is that she only remembers her 52 years married to my grandfather, whom she refers to as the love of her life - even though his name now escapes her.

My grandma actually asked us to move into an assisted living place - one she enjoyed going to for daytime activities. Sporty worked there, so we knew she'd get good quality care. They also offer all levels of care - so she started in an apartment, then a studio, then a room with nursing care, and now she's in a full care room.

My grandma had always been active and when she first moved there, she would walk the halls - sometimes a couple times/day- doing laps like many people do at malls. She wanted to stay fit - she was always tiny waisted.

Now, I find myself following in my grandma's legacy - walking the halls. It actually makes me think of her, which is a good thing. My grandma learned to make the best of being locked inside her assisted living home and I can, also, make the best of living in this converted old nursing home turned rehab/HWH by trying to stay active and walk the halls.

VISITATION
I did end up getting permission to have T.S. and Sporty visit me today. They only allow 1 hour visits - so they traveled 3 hours total and spent an hour with me sitting in the cafeteria. Only two of us had visitors. From 4-5pm, there's another visitation time, but I was only allowed a single visit for the weekend.

It was a good visit. We hardly got enough time to talk. T.S. needs me home to help make her room more comfortable. A lot of my stuff is in boxes in the basement storage. We may struggle with three adults sharing a single vehicle, but I'll use Hope whenever I can. I'll also take the bus. I'm too grateful to be going home to be picky. The bus stop is 2 blocks from where I'll be living. I'll only need a car on the days I have to check back in here. I know we'll figure out how to make it work.

I'm off to lunch and then my laundry duty for  a bit. I'll probably finish my book after. Then a couple hallway laps. I miss my friends - both those on the outside and those I met inside.

5pm I finished the Tami Hoag book I was reading - spending far more than the one hour they allow us to read each day. It's saturday, so many watched a lot of tv/movies. I chose to read.

I'm not sure if it is due to the younger age here, but people don't seem as serious about being locked up. Then again, most go out often - work, shopping, AA/NA meetings... They eat McDonald's and Taco Bell when they are out (whether authorized or not) and really don't show the gratitude of having this experience over jail/prison.

Turns out many of them were meth manufacturers and users, much like the people I met in prison. However, they avoided federal conspiracy charges or turned state's evidence. One woman I met testified against the big wigs and was sent here instead of facing 10-20 years in prison.

People staying here have to pay rent. I do not. Those with jobs must give 25% of their income as rent. Those without jobs are also assessed a rent, but I don't know how it is decided. Any resident that works a full kitchen shift received $6 off their rent. If they "volunteer" enough shifts, they can pay off their entire monthly rent.

Since we are not supposed to sit in our rooms, I joined others in our only other space - the tv room. They put on a scary movie, though, so I'm trying not to pay attention. I have no blanket to hide under and no hand to squeeze. I don't do scary well - especially when the suspense music constantly makes my heart skip a beat in fear.

T.S. and Sporty brought me some more clothes. Clothes that were once tight to too small, are falling off me. It's a good feeling and I hope I can at least maintain, if not lose some more weight. I already told T.S. that I'm getting her up every morning to work out with me. At 19, she likes to sleep, but she will have work and classes this summer, so she is truly transitioning into a young adult. She's decided to look up recipes on Pintrest and she wants to cook dinner once a week. I welcome her wanting to do so, although the ingredients will still be bought by Sporty and myself.

I haven't seen the sunshine for 1 1/2 days. Well, I see it through windows, but I want fresh air. I'm going to ask if I can get some fresh air at the courtyard outside of the House Smoke times. I should also be allowed some outside time, even if I don't smoke. Time for me to go... I can't keep being in this room... movie is really scary...

Locked Up

12pm I spent the morning in my room, because everyone here is working on some programming, except me. Of course, I fell asleep. It's still way uncomfortable on my bunk, but it's better - I'll take better! I used my exercise band and did what I could. Then, I went to see when my intake would be. I was told they'd get me, and it was supposed to be this morning. When I found the staff that does the intake, she said, "gather everyone that's new and we'll do it now...," but everyone that's new is in a meeting, so now it's rescheduled for later this afternoon.

I, also, inquired on whether I am leaving today. My CW already left for the day. The other CW said she'd look into my file. I'll be here, locked inside, for the weekend if I am not given the approval to head home. I'm building anxiety, but the serenity prayer is a constant chant in my head. I wish I could go for a walk, get some sun, or be doing something productive. At least lunch was good - chicken patties, broccoli, and chips. They use these plastic adobe looking round plates, so every meal feels southwestern - ha! In this meal, I used my handy dandy spork for the broccoli and to spread my mayo. It really is the all go to tool. I will never down the spork again!

They haven't placed me on a house job, because I am leaving so soon. CW didn't approve my visitors for the weekend - I really think she thought I wouldn't be here. I hope the other CW can help make it happen!

1pm. I met with the nurse. He was a nice guy. We talked about medical care in the BOP and later, as he did my assessment, he told me I was medically knowledgeable. Yeah, I have some background on the stuff. All vitals were good - no follow up necessary.

I am not going home today... There are no notes from my CW, so there's nothing they can do until Monday. Seems the workers here are as capable as those at Carswell. Tell you one thing, drop the ball, and you are left with staying longer.

Intake was filling out a bunch of forms. The CW kept telling me that they were not relevant to me because I'm not programming, so just skip it or sign my name at the bottom. Since I'm here more than 24 hours, they need to have the paperwork in my folder. Glad it'll look to their bosses that they are dotting their i's and crossing their t's. There's a packet of papers about programming that I have to complete this weekend. One was a drug/alcohol assessment. For every question my honest answer was "no" or "n/a."

When I start my organization in the future, no one will be told that there is no programming for them. Every resident will receive their own plan to follow - individual and group opportunities. For this weekend, I was told to just get used to this place and the many rules. I believe a different/real HWH would have been more appropriate for me...

LAUNDRY WARS???
3:30pm The laundry room contains two front loader washers and dryers. Too bad, one of them is broke. The procedure is that we sign up in advance for a laundry machine. Since no one was signing up for one of them, I correctly deduced something must be wrong with it. Even so, there are plenty of open times for the working one. I chose 3:15pm. My short stay seemingly longer and lack of clothing choices (T.S. brought me plenty of undergarments, but not much in terms of shirts/pants and no pj's), I really need to wash.

So, at 3:15pm, I get whatever blah powder laundry soap the staff in the bubble gives me and go to the laundry room. The washer still had a good 30 minutes left. In Carswell, this would be war. So, I go back to the bubble and inquire about procedure if laundry is running late. I don't want trouble. No trouble, here, just go in when it's empty - oh, how the real world works... No screaming down the hall, "Washer #2!!"

IRONY
5:30pm I write about laundry, go to eat dinner, and as I'm exiting, I'm told I'm officially on laundry detail as my house job. Ummm, okay.

This is institutional laundry - sheets, blankets, towels, etc. Wash, dry, fold, repeat. Plus, make sure we have five sets ready at all times - impossible, because we only had two towels, 1 wash cloth, and 2 pillow cases, so anyone who gets a set will be missing one or more things. No wonder it took me so long to get a pillow case!

It's downtime after house jobs, so I folded, swept the floor, and went to my room. All I have for the rest of the night is the phone at 7pm and pill line at 9pm. #2 is in her bed grunting, but doesn't appear to be doing anything to herself this time. #1 is in her usual pissy mood. She keeps the room door wide open, #2 wants it closed. I'm just minding my own business.

I walked some hallway laps before dinner. The two hallways we can use make an "L" shape (with the bubble at their intersection). One hallway is about 50 yards, and other about 100, so back and forth, back and forth.

I learned this building used to be a nursing home. I can see it - the doors are extra wide, bathrooms without showers, etc. Based on it's look, though, it was probably never a "nice" nursing home. It's very institutional - cinder block walls, ugly linoleum floors. On the room ceilings, the rails are still there for the separator curtains that once separated the two residents in each room for privacy. Now, I know why there are so many hospital beds - they must've come with the building! Also, these old sheets and blankets - wow, it must have been a foreclosure!

You Don't Look Like a Felon
8:30pm For the umpteenth time since my arrival two days ago, I was told, "You don't look like a felon... what'd you do?" I answer honestly and no one can figure out why I was prosecuted. They don't understand what fraud means. I've had a lot of time since my crime, but it doesn't make me any less guilty of it.

Today, two different young staff members made the comment, including the young women who first processed me. They are new grads with bachelors in Criminal Justice. I used to teach their courses at a community college. In another life, these young women could have been my students. One talked to me about law school. A resident also talked to me about law school. She is also a fed case and she's applying to my same university. She did her undergrad there, too. I'm glad she doesn't see her felony as the end of her career goals - just like I don't. I pray she's successful!

There have been tears here today - people dealing with family issues, inability to take their narcotic drugs (not allowed at all), a woman discharged saying goodbye, a funeral of a friend, and more. Most are fairly new to being sober and don't yet know how to deal with emotions or handling difficulty. They just smoke, smoke, smoke. I feel sad for their struggles. 

I finished all the paperwork I was told to fill out this weekend. One question I found specifically interesting is "what is a victim?" I answered, "someone who believes life is happening "to" them, rather than an opportunity to learn and grow. My answer hadn't prepared me for the next question - very fitting based on my writing over the last 24 hours, "who were my victims?" This time I answered incredibly different - again listing all the people my actions hurt. Life didn't happen "to" them. They still hold anger and resentment, years later. Yet, I don't like the term "victim," I prefer "survivor." I guess they are the survivors of my addictive behavior. Are they victims or survivors? I don't know. Perhaps because of this time of the year - May 5th, 2008 my last gamble, May 11th, my unintentional intervention, June 9th, my first GA meeting (my clean date) makes this a good time to reflect on all the people I hurt, the community, the staff, friends, family, and myself. I must live in the present, though, and right now I must just keep moving forward and do good in this world. I may never make my victims/survivors whole or happy, but maybe I can help enough other people to make up for my past and my addiction.

FIRE DRILL
11pm Laying in bed, reading a 1990's book by Tami Hoag - "beep, beep, beep... beep, beep, beep..." Fire alarm. #2 runs out - she immediately falls to the ground outside, covering her ears. At Carswell, the flashing lights caused several seizures during each drill, for #2, it's the sound that causes her seizures. She didn't have a seizure tonight, though. UGH, the alarm just started going off again... #2 just made another run for it out the door. We were told not to go, but she was already out. They are saying she's AWOL, but she's just outside the door, covering her ears. It's still going off 5 minutes later, my ear plugs help a little.

Anyway, during the first fire alarm at 11pm, we exit the building and they do roll call - 40 men and about 50 yds away are the 40 women. There's a big racial difference between the men and the women. 90% of the men are African American, only 3 of the women are. Not sure why. Two men didn't get up, so we are warned - fire alarm again tomorrow night at 11pm. Something to look forward to.

It's past lights out, but #2 is still not back and the fire alarm finally shut off. Conversations are still loud in the hall. It may be a long night!

Halfway House v. Federal Prison

I know I am not having a real halfway house experience. This place is a community lockup/rehab. However, based on my personal experiences, I thought I would provide a breakdown of the differences...

Dress/Attire
HWH: You can have your own clothes with some restrictions; no shorts; must have no jeans on at dinner
Prison: Uniform and the greys you purchase; dress in anything for breakfast and dinner, dress in uniform all day and for lunch; you will get sick of khaki or whatever color your uniform is

Fresh Air
HWH: Only allowed outside for smoking and pre-approved furloughs (work, etc.)
Prison: Allowed out on all open moves with a pass during the day and without a pass at night; if at a camp - you do not have to wait for open moves

Passes
HWH: Put in paperwork in advance to get possible approval to go to store, library, time with family
Prison: Stand in line at half hour to get a pass to stay on compound and go to rec center, outdoor rec, the chapel, library, etc.

Visitors:
HWH: Fill out form about one week in advance to get approval; visits last 1 hour and are allowed 3 days/week.
Prison: One someone is approved they can visit any Saturday/Sunday between 8am-3pm.

Narcotic Medications
HWH: None allowed, even if prescribed
Prison: Wait in long pill line to receive prescribed narcotics

Physical Activity
HWH: Do what you can in your room/on your bed.
Prison: Get pass and go to the rec center where there's equipment to use and/or go to outdoor rec and walk the track or join an organized sport.

Reading
HWH: Allowed for one hour per day.
Prison: Anytime during your down time.

Urine Tests
HWH: As often as 1-2x per week
Prison: 1-2x/year unless you have a dirty UA

Rooms
HWH: 2-3/room in 10x20 with a door
Prison: 4/room in 7x10 with no door

Bathroom
HWH: Attached to room, shared by two rooms ~ 6 people
Prison: Community, shared by 150-300 women

Showers
HWH: Open room with 5 shower heads
Prison: Private stalls with doors

In-House Jobs
HWH: Everyone is put on a work crew doing cleaning type work
Prison: Choices of jobs throughout the institution, only orderlies are responsible for large institutional cleaning

Outside Jobs
HWH: Allowed any legal job
Prison: No jobs off the compound. Some camps have employment deals with local businesses.

Library
HWH: A selection of about 50 books published in the 1990's and earlier
Prison: Thousands of titles from classics to current; all vampire books are not allowed

Food
HWH: Follows a four week schedule; no set food service workers; institutional grade food
Prison: Follows a five week schedule; food workers with experience; institutional grade food

Travel
HWH: No shackles; can have own car/scooter or take the bus
Prison: No leaving

Sleep Wear
HWH: In any proper pj's
Prison: the provided pj's or tshirt and shorts; must sleep in bra

Healthcare
HWH: Your own doctors and your own insurance
Prison: Their doctors, free

Money
HWH: Pay cash for snacks, taxi, soda, phone use
Prison: All funds are deposited into your account by an outside entity

Rent
HWH: Pay 25% of income
Prison: Free; in rare instances you pay for your bed

Commissary
HWH: About 12 snack foods available
Prison: All hygiene, food, snacks, spices, clothing, etc.

Down Time
HWH: Only one hour/day in room allowed besides specified room times
Prison: Anytime you are not working you can be in your room (unless it's inspection)

Cleanliness
HWH: I'm thinking the bathroom hasn't had a good cleaning in years
Prison: The orderlies clean it daily.

Count/Roll Call
HWH: They come around and look for you and mark you off
Prison: Stand count 2-3x/day.

Phone
HWH: Unlimited calls in 15 minute intervals ($1/15 minutes); must sign up earlier in the day for a later time slot
Prison: 15 minute calls; wait 30 minutes between each call (about $3/15 minutes)

Email
HWH: None
Prison: Access through TruLincs

Smoking
HWH: Various times through day
Prison: None

Television
HWH: Videos/television after 9pm
Prison: Available most of the day, own a radio to hear

Ages
HWH: Avg age around 24
Prison: Avg age around 35

Diversity
HWH: 90% Caucasian
Prison: 25% Caucasian, 50% Latina, 23% African American, 2% Other

Recovery
HWH: Drugs & Alcohol Only
Prison: Drugs & Alcohol Only

Room Cleaning
HWH: 1x/week
Prison: Every day

Beds
HWH: Pancake thin mattress on a bunk bed
Prison: Usually bunk bed with mildly thicker mattress

Pillows:

HWH: paper thin: plastic cover; unsure of inside material (if there is any)

Prison: Feather pillow; Throws feathers out of seams everywhere in room; cloth striped cover

Staff
HWH: Young; Just out of college
Prison: Older, many nearing retirement; Mean

Lockers
HWH: Wait in line and ask permission to get into a 1'x2' locker; Lock and combo provided
Prison: 3'x2' locker with own lock available anytime in room

Education
HWH: Get a book and study on your own
Prison: GED and adult ed classes available

Shots/PRN
HWH: Five non-serious or one serious PRN = lose privileges for a week
Prison: Any non-serious will be punished, serious will go to SHU

Unit Relaxation/Work Space
HWH: Small sitting room or dining hall
Prison: Atrium, TV rooms, Desk in room

Appointments
HWH: Hung at window in handwriting or told
Prison: Call-Out sheet provides all appointments for the next day

Ice Water
HWH: No ice available
Prison: Ice available in the unit anytime

Case Worker
HWH: one for every 20 residents
Prison: one for every 250 inmates

Paper/Pencils
HWH: Bring your own
Prison: Provided for free

Time Spent in Institution
HWH: 1-6 months
Prison: 6 months - 50 years

Recovery Programs
HWH: Drug/alcohol program available
Prison: Drug/alcohol program available; gets you time off your sentence

Religions
HWH: 99.9% Christian
Prison: 90% Christian; 5% Muslim, 5% Other

Distance
HWH: Within hours of your home
Prison: Anywhere within 3,000 miles from home

The Comments

Okay, I can't help myself. I keep going back to those nasty comments - likely made by other students who I was not close to in my phd program. One comment said something like, "I hope you weren't referring to yourself as a hero..." and went on to bash me. I would think it was perfectly apparent that the hero was my former adviser, whom I had so much respect for. I know I have to just "let go" of the judgement and negativity toward me.

I wish I had some way to fully make whole what my actions took away from this world. The board of an amazing small organization made the decision to close the doors due to my embezzlement. There are victims - an entire community, my staff, etc., due to what I did. Are some acts just so unforgivable? If a former gang member who killed someone can turn their life around and do good in the world, can't I?

My journey to where I am today took me to depths of irrational thoughts and actions that are outrageous. However, I cannot change the past, not live in the past. All who believe I am unforgivable have a right to do so. However, I am not an enemy to my community because I did something wrong. Which would have been the bigger tragedy? To have followed through on the suicide my actions led me to believe was my only way out or for me to learn, grow, and give back every day so that someone else may never end up in the same desperation?

For those nay-sayers in this world, people who think that I could of/should of been able to control my actions knows nothing of addiction, of the depths of self-hatred that fuels the desperation. No matter how capable, smart, caring, or giving you are, addiction will make all the good disappear. Once in recovery, should people keep judging?

I've made amends to those I could, I'm paying restitution, and I try to give back to all my communities. I can never make whole what we lost. You can never make it worse for me than I make it for myself. I believe, though, in second chances. I believe that everyone can change if they want to. I surrendered myself to recovery and change. I became a PhD student after making those changes.

You can call me names, unfriend me, bad mouth me to others, gossip, kick me out of school, but what you cannot do is make me give up my recovery, my gratitude, my love of life, my real friends/family, my ability to smile, laughter, my desire to make the world just a bit better, my "paying it forward," or even my ability to separate who you are from the judgment you throw at me. I forgive all who demean me. I forgive all who judge me. I forgive all who intentionally choose to hurt me. My life has purpose and I will keep doing the next right thing no matter how many judge me, how many dead ends I cross, how many metal slabs I have to sleep on.

I'm actually glad the comments are there. They will always keep me humble and remind me that I did a terrible thing. I hurt an already vulnerable community. Sham me, throw stones, but, perhaps, in time, you can talk to me, hear my story, and maybe even you can discover forgiveness.

AWOL

10pm. Earlier today a new woman checked-in. Her mom and son were here dropping her off. It seemed her son had special needs. The new resident hugged her mom and son goodbye and her mom told her she was proud of her. She'd get one phone call tonight and then she'll be allowed to call again in a week - she's in an intensive program that will save her from going to jail/prison. I'm not sure her full story, but one or more serious DWI's got her in here. I had dinner with her. She didn't touch her food.

About 15 minutes ago, she stood behind me in the bubble line. She seemed okay for her first night here. I don't know what she asked the woman in the bubble, but 10 minutes later, she had her sneakers on and she ran out the back door. She's officially AWOL.

She's from a couple hours away from here, so she didn't go home. A bench warrant will immediately be put out on her. I just imagine the reaction from her mom at home, as she will have to care for her grandchild that much longer, while Mom goes to jail.

The gossip has spread among the women here. They are surprised she didn't give it at least one day. Turns out three different people - two females and one male when AWOL just this week. Back to the realities of addiction - you can't force someone into recovery. I pray for the woman and her son that this is her last hurrah and she surrenders herself to getting well. If not, she's looking at the three promises of addiction - prison, insanity, or death. Now I know why there's a door with an "AWOL Closet" sign on it. The newbie's stuff will go in there tonight.

Ouch

What a difference a day makes. The pain I feel in my back, neck, and shoulders is indescribable. I get up to do some stretches and the top bunk is too low for me to do so. I move to the cold, hard floor instead. I went to sleep without my medication and still no towel. I wish I could take a walk, but there's no where I can go to do so. I now see why I was not medically cleared for RRC/HWH.

6:45am is mandatory meeting time where they do a roll call and you let them know what meals you will eat here for the next 24 hours. I said, "lunch save," which means I may not be here for lunch at 11:45am. I went to the bubble to see about my meds - but none are approved still. I try to explain that my medication regiment is important, but there's nothing that can be done until someone approves them, and it's not her.

I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have difficulty getting my injection for my doc appt that morning, and she said, "your insulin?" I explained that it's not insulin and is very expensive medication. Turns out it made it to the fridge, but they didn't have the boxes handled correct side up. I was able to fix that. The woman in the bubble looked at me with eyes telling me to not ask any more questions. I walked away without any of my medications for the last 24 hours and said I'd be back at 7:30am to pick up my injection.

The 40 women here are averaging in their mid 20's. There are only a few other women here who kinda look about my age. The BOP folks, like me, all seem a bit older. This morning, one of the BOP folks told me that she just got there from Lexington. She knew Lola before Lola transferred to Carswell. Small world.

I put my blanket on the floor to do some stretching, but my body hurt too much and I could barely do anything. I pray some stuff gets answered today for me. Here's my list so far:

• Can I get a medical mattress?
• What will procedure to give myself my injections be?

Time out, my roommate is masturbating with herself and grunting loudly - never dealt with it quite that way in Carswell ---

• Can I have a towel?
• What does home confinement orientation include?
• How can I get on the public assistance website so I can sign up for health insurance?
• Can I attend a GA meeting?
• Can I go to the library?
• Can I have visitors?
• Can I have a bedside table/set of drawers like everyone else?

12:30pm. I am back from my doctor appointment and laying on the hard bunk I am assigned. I ate breakfast with Pink and Lexington. They both should be on home confinement, but this place is holding them - sounds familiar. Scares me a bit, but I need to put my future in god's hands and just get through today.

We have to bring a bright orange spork with us to every meal. We each get one. It is our spoon, fork and knife all in one. Breakfast was cereal and toast. I was given frosted flakes. No healthier options. Oh well.

T.S. was at the door when I came out of breakfast. She looks so good, gosh I missed her. I walked to the door to ask her if she brought me the clothes I requested. I then was screamed at - didn't know we couldn't approach the door. Anyway, my few items she brought were searched and I quickly headed to my room to change out of my greys - finally!!! No time for a shower - and I still don't have a towel anyway.

Outside, I was finally able to give T.S. a great big hug. I'm tired and worn out, so, I wasn't very engaging as T.S. drove me 1 1/2 hours to my doctor appt. I did get to put one quick Facebook post up - a self pic with "I'm back... sorta!" I'm not sure of the Internet rules, so I don't want to be online until I'm given permission to do so. Another thing I did was "unfriend" more than half the people on my Facebook. It's not that I don't want to be their friends anymore, I just want to wait until I know they choose to be a friend and not a hater. Those I know support me, I kept. I was especially glad I chose to do that BEFORE I stumbled on a bunch of negative comments from an earlier dragonfly hazel post. They judge me without really knowing the story, thinking I am not worthy of a second chance or being in school. I thought to myself, these people know nothing of who I am and if I chose not to tell them my deepest past secrets, then that was my right. I didn't lie, I used discretion and I chose to tell those I was closest to and trusted - isn't that what we all do? So, I decided I want my Facebook friends to be those who I can put into my circle of trust. I will share this site with them. I will happily add back those I took off, if they want to continue a friendship knowing all of me.

Meanwhile, while I am capable of deleting these past negative comments on my writings/feelings, I choose not to. Everyone has a right to their own opinions. People can think anything they want of me. They are obviously perfect human beings, never dealt with addiction, and never felt true desperation. As for me, I live with my mistakes, my crime, the reality of what I did, and I choose to try to do the next right thing. I did a lot of good things, even when I was destroying myself, but never was I proud of myself until I got into recovery, got healthy, and learned forgiveness - especially to forgive myself. I don't need anyone to like me, as long as I like myself. Luckily, I have an incredible community of support, who also practice love, compassion, forgiveness, kindness, and honesty. I think I'll keep my energy flowing in their direction.

So, we get to my doctor's appointment just in time. I am weighed - down like 45 lbs since I was here a year ago. Once I am in a patient room, I immediately say, "I just want to make sure you know, before you spend any time with me, that I don't yet have any health insurance..." It didn't seem a problem to them.

I answered all their pain/health questions I need to answer every time I'm here... I just got pulled into a meeting with my case worker, so more to report, but first back to my doctor appt... I'm asked if I have anything specific to address. I say, "many things, but today let's just concentrate on immediate needs..." I am to continue my medications, she gave me an update of my medical restrictions, and I'll come back in two months for a more thorough appointment.

So, we go through a typical visit, an hour long, and I give myself my enbrel injection in front of the nurse, and may medical record is updated. I got the form showing where I was and what I was doing signed, a copy of my medical needs, and went back to T.S. - they only charged me $10 for my visit!!!!

Driving back to the community facility (can't call it a HWH, because it is not one), I was better able to talk with T.S. as she drove. Gosh, I've missed her. We got me back to the facility 20 minutes before my "pass expiration" I waited at the door to be let in, pat down, stuff searched... I signed in and handed them my verification form. My case worker (CW) immediately requested my home phone bill - the phone that is a house phone with no call forwarding --- sporty had sent it in with T.S., so I was ready. Her asking for it meant she must be working on my file - that must be a good thing!

I head to my room to relax, first asking permission to go into my locker to put my personal items in there - health records, license, debit card, etc. About 20 minutes later, I was told to go see CW. I had to ask where to find her, I'm new after all. There is a "wing" to the building that is all administration and I found her office down that corridor.

Good news immediately - someone is heading toward where I live tonight, and if they can do the home visit, my time here will be way less. I asked if there's any possibility I could be home for the weekend - she said a slight one. I'll hold on to that hope! First, Sporty needs to be home when they show up tonight - she's busy being oriented for her new job, so I pray we can reach her in time. Also, I need to fill out a form that I'll have access to Sporty's car and Sporty will need to write a notarized letter, that I have permission to drive her car. So, there's lots to do immediately - I can handle that!

CW also told me that my intake will be tomorrow morning, but "you won't be expected to complete any programs..." She did read my file and saw she can't really hold me here medically. She is working to get me out of here! I will be meeting with the nurse as well tomorrow, but CW told me to not emphasize anything wrong with me, because I won't be there long enough for the nurse to do anything for me. Sweet words to my ears.

I signed a bunch of papers and asked the questions I had come up with that were still relevant. She told me she'd find me a second mattress and pillow. She was reluctant to give me a medical bed, because I'm LEAVING so soon... I am okay with that!

I told CW that I promised region/BOP that I'd sign up for health insurance through the ACA website within 24 hours. CW said, "well, that's not going to happen..." No access to internet here. I'll have to wait until I'm home.

Under home confinement, I will have to come to the institution every Monday and Thursday morning., I will need access to a vehicle - Sporty's. We'll work that out. I won't have any electronic monitoring. I will always have a 9pm curfew, except for work or school. I'll have to call in frequently and be home for their random calls on the home line. I can't go anywhere without advance approval.

CW asked me a bunch of questions. I asked if I am here for the weekend, could I attend a GA meeting. She said, "what's that??" I'm so used to that response, but this is a place of recovery, the serenity prayer is in the dining hall like 12 times, yet she doesn't know of GA. Such a misunderstood addiction!

When the meeting was over, I was happy on "hope," so I called T.S. She has plans but will cut them short to be home for the home visit if her mom can't be. She's such an amazing young woman! By the time I saw SW at the bubble that afternoon, both Sporty and T.S. had called her and said they'd be home. I also called survivor - I so miss her. I haven't seen her since she dropped me at the gate the first day. It was a short, but good, call.

SW helped me find a second tiny mattress and another flat pillow. Pink got me an old stained but clean towel. I'm not getting a chest of drawers/night stand, so be it. Home is closer now. I feel it.

Speaking of home, I finally reached Red's MIL. She had not gotten my message from yesterday - not sure why not. So, I start telling her about Red, the Marshalls, etc. She had no idea what I was talking about. She picked up Red at the bus and she's home now. I guess the Marshalls didn't show. She'll still take care of the charge, but she's home with her babies. That brings me so much peace!!

5pm. I was given access to my approved medications finally. Dinner consisted of a meat and macaroni dish that I can't quite describe (gross), carrots, cornbread, and 2 more slices of white bread.

Still more to write for the day... but taking a break... more entries to come asap.

It's a Hard Knock Life

Okay, I obviously wrote too much, while I was offline... back to what I'd written longhand...

My large medicine box could not fit in the overhead compartment or under my seat on the smaller plane. Luckily, the flight attendant could move me to the back of the plane, where there was more space...

Arrive at the small town "international" airport (they must go to Canada or something for it to be considered international) and follow signs to ground transportation. I found a counter with taxi/sedan/limo on a sign. I'm told that all transportation must be arranged through them. I give my HWH address and they have me pre-pay $29 for the trip. I was given $55, so I'm not complaining. Meanwhile, an older lady comes to the counter to get a taxi home. She's charged $39 and is pissed, "it used to be only $19!" She gives in, of course, we all need to get to where we need to go... but lo and behold, they have only one car available - we are asked if we would mind sharing the taxi. I ask for a discount. We are each given $5 off our trip and we then agree. Poor lady didn't yet realize I was going to the absolute opposite side of the town than she was, so her ride would be twice as long. It's a small city, though, so we are talking the difference between 10 minutes and 20 minutes. So be it.

We go to the "taxi" and it's actually a sedan. Okay, we can travel in style. The lady asks me a bunch of questions. Picture her - very trendy dresser, fancy earrings, late 60's, grandmother for sure... Discretion definitely came in handy. She asked where I was traveling from, how long I was there, why I have such a big box of medication, what's medically wrong with me, etc.

So, what I did not say is, "I just got out of prison this morning, where I spent nearly a year, got no medical care except for my medication (well, most of my medications), and I have serenegative spondyloarthropathy... you are about to drop me off an an unnamed/unsigned large building in a bad neighborhood where I will spend more time with other felons, drug abusers, and other needing a hand up..." Nope, I didn't say that. I could just see her eyes bulge out of their socket. Instead, I just said, "I was in the Dallas/Fort Worth area for several months. I have to travel with my medication for an autoimmune condition. I'm going to a place to see someone." Enough said.

So, I'm dropped off at the front door of the RRC/HWH - it looks like a business office. I go to the main door, oops - men's side - I need to carry my stuff - big box included (tape handles broke off) - and make my way around the building and along a path to the women's side. I find the right number door, and go inside.

You know the look of old seedy motels, well, that's the feel when you walk into the women's side of this place. The men's side has a stained glass window and looks nicer, but you walk in here and there's a desk called the "bubble," where the staff members sit behind a plexiglass with a slot open at the bottom like a bank, and a talking hole too high for my height. Women were everywhere, doing a million things - going in/out of lockers, getting cigarettes, cleaning floors, going to meetings, sitting in a small courtyard, on the phone, asking for mail, asking for laundry soap, buying snacks, coming in from school/work, taking urine tests, getting alcohol breath checked, etc.

I stood at the bubble to be processed in. The young woman is new, never processed anyone before, and didn't know where to begin. It was 5:15pm. I just stood there, taking in the grittiness of the place - everything is old and warn down.

It became quickly apparent that the BOP inmate is the exception to what they usually have here. Most are here for drug/alcohol issues - there are a number of programs - rehab, drug court, swift and sure, and others that they do while in there. It is not a real halfway house, it is a locked down community correctional place. Only four other federal inmates are here on their "halfway house" time. I met one, she knew Danbury. She was supposed to be on home confinement weeks ago, but she's still here.

Anyway, a male staff member from the men's side comes to finally help me get processed in. I answer questions - out address, past drug/alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies, medical issues, etc. There's not enough room on the form to list all my medications or medical issues. Meanwhile, I am still standing and I have to use the restroom. So, this gives us the time to do my urinalysis and my strip search. Squat, spread 'em, cough - yep, once again. My breath is checked for alcohol "0.0." I'm back standing at the bubble for a while longer. It's after 6pm, so I ask for a chair, and they allow me to bring one up to the bubble. So, I sit down, lower than any openings in the plexiglass and attempt to hear their questions and provide answers. A ton of people continue to need the young staff woman's attention and the guy has to go back to his side of the facility, so, she gets pretty flusterred. Meanwhile, my box of medication is still sitting there - along with all my belongings - for her to sift through. At 6:35 pm, I ask if there's any way I can get something to eat. I know she is still processing me in, but I'm getting hungry and she keeps getting pulled away. She disappears to the kitchen and comes out with a sack lunch. Two peanut butter sandwiches on white break, packaged grape jelly (the same jelly we had at Carswell!!), pretzels, and bright blue sugar drink. I made a sandwich , ate a couple pretzels, took a swig of the blue juice (dumped the rest - too sweet), and at least felt satisfied.

Back to the bubble. I'm taken on a quick orientation walk by another resident and she quickly goes through lockers, laundry, tv, phones, meal times, count, smoking, schedule, showers, etc. I remember about two things she said. However, I won't forget the showers - thing gym class with one open room with five shower heads - no dividers, no curtains - just open - UGH! I also learn that I'm allowed no shorts, no t-shirts, no hoodies --- okay, there goes my entire wardrobe!

Back to the bubble. I'm assigned a room - they seem reluctant to have to place me there, but it's the only lower bunk available. I'm put on a bunk with a mattress thinner than anything at Carswell on a metal frame. The bunk above it is really low, I can't sit on the bunk without hitting my head. I can't swing my arm to pull up a blanket without hitting the top bunk by accident. This place has hospital beds - about 50% of the residents are sleeping on decent medical beds. They don't have medical issues, they just were in the rooms first. I'm given a sheet and a blanket. Pink (Danbury's friend) comes by as I'm making my bed. I ask about a pillow, a set of drawers, some hygiene products, and a towel - all stuff that is supposed to be supplied. It's now after 7pm, and I'm still not fully checked in.

I am given a locker, a lock, and pretty much everything I brought from Carswell is in that locker now (the locker sits by the bubble and we have to ask permission to go in/out of it every time). My roommates both have the same first name. So, I refer to them as #1 and #2. They provided me with 3 shelves, of the 12 available in the closet. I don't have many clothes yet, but not sure that will work in the long run... they also take up 100% of the hanging closet space.

I am given 15 minutes to make a call. We can use the phone for $1 for 15 minutes - one or more calls - but 15 min total. We must sign up and pay in advance. There's only one phone available for long-distance calls. I try calling Red's MIL quickly - still no answer. I call Sporty. She's been worried sick about me. Everyone is texting each other asking if I'm out, if I got here, etc. I'm out, but I am not free. I'm still locked in a secured environment. I need permission for everything. I am still wearing my prison greys. I was self-carrying my meds, here, I have to wait in a pill line for all my meds. I will do my best to get acclimated - this is not forever.

#2 has already tried to sell me a pair of sneakers and to borrow 50 cents. I showed no interest in the shoes and I have no change. At about 8pm, I'm back at the bubble. It appears my intake is over (3 hours), but I have no pillow case or towel. The pillow I am given has no stuffing at all. it just lies flat. I also still need some hygiene products to wash up with. I go to my room to lie down, write and hope that some of the things will be provided at some point.

The pillow case arrives thirty minutes later. It smells, but so does the blanket and sheets. All appear to be like 20 years old and yellowing. It takes me minutes to get up from the flatness of the mattress on my bed. I will talk to them tomorrow about finding me something better. This place is not set up for accommodating medical needs. In fact, it's pill line time and since they haven't put my pills in the computer yet, they won't provide me with any of them. At 9pm, the box of my enbryl is even still sitting there, rather than the medication going into a fridge like it has to.

An unfortunate thought hits me at that moment - I would rather be back at Carswell. I want to take a shower and put on clean clothes. It feels like I am laying on a metal slab on the bed I'm provided. I'm all of HALT - hungry, angry, lonely and tired.

The room I am in is a suite- like at a college dorm, with a bathroom between two rooms. Everything here is old and dirty. It's my home confinement date, I don't understand why I am not going to my home confinement and instead have a new lock-up experience. I kind of feel like I'm at an orphanage right now - "It's a Hard Knock Life" (from Annie) keeps playing in my head.

I say the serenity prayer over and over again. I have a lot to be grateful for. I think about Red, possibly locked up at county, and I know I have nothing to complain about. I am even better off than the poor new young woman who is working at the bubble. She seems so overwhelmed and looks totally dazed. There are about 40 women here, but the chaos and drama already matches Carswell - except I hear no real fighting. It's loud, though, very, very loud. Music, talking, laughing, doors slamming, water running, shoes sliding, etc.

Whoa, #2 just got naked facing me - with leapard print undies on and I really did NOT want to see her naked. I'm actually glad my glasses are off, so I'm really only able to see a blur. It's a big enough room that she did not need to do that right next to my bed!

My suite mates are gossiping and talking about guys and drugs. I'm still in prison. It's just a smaller, older, less organized one. I should have brought my crochet blanket to work on!

10:15pm. I'm laying on metal. I am using my prison swearshirt to prop up my head. My back and neck are aching and I'm soooooo tired. My meds are still not in the computer, so I was not allowed to take any of my nighttime medications. I just received my hygiene pack - a plastic cup, same body soap/shampoo we had at Carswell, prison deodorant, a mini-toothbrush, scary toothpaste, and a mini-razor. Oh, and a spork. A plastic orange sport. I am hoping to get a towel still.

I never thought anything could be less organized than Carswell, but I was wrong. I hope I get my meds soon. I look forward to seeing T.S. in the morning. It'll be a better day!! I'm sure this place will get better as well. I'm not behind a fence anymore. I can wear my own clothes, and I'm much closer to friends and family!!

House Smoke

There are maybe two of us here that are not smokers. Everyone else begs for smoke permission. There are "smoke passes" that people earn by doing tasks/chores that can be used during certain hours. Otherwise, residents have to wait until "House Smoke" is screamed down the hallway. I've learned of a suitemate who lost her smoke privileges, so she went into our bathroom to smoke and then tried to cover it up with perfume. So, now I smell smoke and cheap perfume - lovely!

#1 looks like she would be a kind woman. However, when she opens her mouth, her language and attitude is worst than those at the feds! She's very rude. No idea why she's here - she is just so bitter! She received a box of clothes from home, I imagine, and when she went through it and there were no jeans, she threw all the clothes across the room and started screaming and crying. I'm staying out of her way.

There are four of us who have come in over the last three days. One DUI, two drug-related and me. They couldn't figure out what I'd done. One didn't know what a "white collar" crime was. I was told, "you don't look like a druggie." Thanks, I guess.

I haven't figured out the institutional schedule yet. There are times we must be in our rooms and times we are not allowed in our rooms, times we line up to have a breathalizer, times for pills, times we can ask questions at the bubble, times we can't, times the tv can be one, etc. There does not seem to be any quiet time!

As mentioned above, one of my suitemates is on restriction. She is not allowed to leave her room, not even for meals. She keeps getting screamed at by her roommates. Everyone has such good communication skills here...

There seems a big difference between those from state jail and the few of us from the Feds. Many did almost no time inside - maybe a week or 30-90 days before they were sent in for this program. Being here, and doing the programming, is part of their sentence. (My roommate is groaning again, ugh...). They will do the vast majority of their time locked up here, except for the ability to go to work. From what I can see, I can't imagine this place helping anyone to a better life. The jobs are at McDonalds or being a room cleaner at a motel, and they make minimum wage. They won't be able to even pay rent with such low pay. Education, real rehabilitation, and manners would go farther. These women are so young, real 1-on-1 time and help would possibly move them forward.

A woman just came to our door to talk with #2. She said her boyfriend died last night. He'd been clean for 7 months, but she suspects he went and shot up again. She can't get the full story from anyone. Today, she happened to receive four letters from the guy, sad. She's going to try to use a smoke pass, in order to deal with her grief.

So much to write...

I have only moments to type this. I'm out and at the halfway house. I won't be able to update for a couple days, but I'm writing... Stay tuned!!!

"How's Your Day?"

I'm sitting at a Chili's II restaurant at my layover airport. There were choices - pizza, burgers, chinese, hot dogs, etc., but I am not too hungry. A bowl of soup and ice water sounded perfect. I chose the chicken enchilada soup - although the loaded potato soup immediately reminded me of the night Freckles and I snuck potatoes out of the chow hall in our bras and made our own version of cheesy potato soup. There are so many bizarre, laughable, experiences in prison and that was certainly one of them.

When the waitress took my order, she seems surprised by my only getting soup. Everyone around me is munching on huge sandwiches and fries. I just need to be satisfied, not stuffed. I'd actually forgo lunch, but I may be late for dinner tonight and I know skipping meals is not good for me.

My soup just arrived. Four packs of Zesta Saltine Crackers on the side. Immediately, my mind things of the people who I could give them to as a treat at Carswell. Four packs for a small bowl of soup - not sure I'm prepared for the portion sized out in the real world.

Everything is a new observation. In the restroom, I got toilet paper to put on the toilet, as I always did in Carswell. However, when I turned to the toilet, it had one of those automatic turning plastic covers - just wave your hand and you get a clean toilet seat just for you. Obviously, I've seen these before several times, but I've been away from anything mechanical or technical and it made me laugh. There are a million used for that toilet seat wrap in prison - it would be stolen immediately for improper purposes. Also, I wonder what a woman, released after 20 years inside, would do in the stall. Here she is, first day out, and she doesn't know how to work the toilet seat. So many things we take for granted.

I tried calling Red's MIL again. Went straight to voicemail. I pray it's the right number. I didn't leave a second message. Hopefully, I'll reach her later. My flight boards in 30 minutes. I am heading to an unknown, but I know it will be better. I'm back in the midwest - people say "wash" instead of "warsh" - it's a good start.

So, the waitress asked me, "how's your day?" I answered, "good." If she only knew my journey. I am good. I am out of Carswell.

Furlough

I am sitting at Au Bon Pain at DFW airport eating a toasted bagel with cream cheese. It's the first bagel I've enjoyed in 10 months. I have about an hour until I take off. My morning was full of emotions, and, yet, now I'm here. I'm on furlough to the RRC (halfway house). Legally, I'm still in custody.

Sleep was difficult last night - but I did get 4-5 hours. At 5:30am, I got up and started getting ready - change out of a pair of grey shorts and t-shirt into a different clean and ironed grey shorts and t-shirt. Pack my last minute items - book light, pillow cover, book, water bottle, and attempt to zipper my bag. People came to me and hugged me, wishing me luck. I stood with the Third one, waiting for the announcement that food service is open - announced at 6:05am, which is when we are allowed to leave the unit.

Taz walked with me and Freckles met us outside. I could already tell that Freckles would cry - happy tears. We've literally gotten each other through this experience. She'll be leaving in just over a month - so she's right behind me. Unfortunately, Taz still has a couple years.

Taz stood at the line with my overflowing grey bag, while I went down to the chow hall with Freckles. Two bites of a bad bagel and about 10oz. of mile and I got up to go back to the line - anxiety was hitting me. Taz took off to get some breakfast and I stood in like with Freckles, Red, and the Third one. People kept walking by and at least one of us was being hugged. A lot of "don't come back!" was uttered.

Another wait as the mail line started to form behind us - and then we heard keys. An officer held our files and called us to follow him to R&D. I hugged Freckles and Taz one last time and down the hall I went. It was only my second time in R&D. The lock-up cells lining the left wall. I remembered back to my first day and sitting there with Chi as we were processed in.

As we walked in, the officer opened a cell and told Red to have a seat on the concrete built-in bench. He closed the door and locked it. She has a detainer from her home city and we didn't know if they'd come and pick her up or let her come home first. For months, she's been trying to get an answer. She has young kids at home and is needed there. We prayed she'd be busing out today. She gave me her mother-in-laws (MIL) phone number just in case the Marshall's did come for her.

The Third one and I got processed - another thumb print, signatures, see if my clothes arrived (nope!!), etc. I peaked through the cell window at Red when I could. I hated that she sat in that room alone and no one knew yet if she would be going home or with the Marshalls.

When the Third one was being processed out, the paperwork had a big mistake - she's supposed to be flying out - but in her pocket they'd showed she was busing it - for like 3 days. Even I know that she was supposed to fly - she's a care level 4 (the highest!). She got super mad, had "words" with the officer for a while. I felt powerless. Finally, the officer told us to follow him to the business office. I put my hand on Red's cell window, not knowing if I'd see her again.

About 7:15am, we went to the business office. They talked a long time and wah-lah, they found the Third one's plane ticket! Once again, have they never done their jobs before?

Freckled happened to walk by and so we got one more good hug in. She was waterwords this time. She will always be a good friend - we have South to thank for connecting us!

When I got up to the business office window, they handed me cash for my taxi and meals - $69, and a debit card with my personal balance $3.15! I can't even us and ATM to withdraw that amount. But, hey, it's like almost what I made my first month working in prison. It's valuable to me. The debit card is from the BOP, has my name on it, AND it has my prison photo!! The height chart behind me and all! That's something to be proud of - ha!!

Many of my former students came by to hug and thank me. I told them to continue learning, some to go to college. We exchanged warm hugs!

We walked back to R&D, past everyone in line for records, the mail room, and property. They watched us, with our grey bags - we were leaving. Lots of waves and "good luck" and we were back at R&D. Peeking in at Red, she motioned that she's not going home. I also heard the C.O.'s talking about waiting for the Marshalls to arrive. She is going to county to be picked up within 30 days to then be brought back to her home state and stand before a judge. I can only imagine what is going on in her head, but I was very sad. I don't like leaving someone I care about facing the unknown alone. She's strong (much stronger than me), though, and she'll pray and at least she'll be out of Cars-Hell! Good thing I have the number to call her MIL.

The C.O. then processed our medications - I received my seven self-carry meds for 30 days and, later, a large box with my enbryl on ice packs. Now, I had to squeeze the medication into my bag and start carrying the now pretty light but LARGE box, with no handle. The Third one had to help me stuff the medications in my grey bag. I received a cd of my medical records as well :-)

As we walked to the exit gate, Freckles was there once again - waving and screaming goodbye. What a friend!!!

I'm on the plane now - waiting for take-off. I had priority boarding and a window seat. Other than my dark greys, and see through grey bag, you'd never know I was a felon on furlough. Anyway, back to leaving.

We headed to the security office at the prison, received our envelopes with our cash and tickets and I was given my box of medication and we were then brought to a white van. the can is considered a "town car," and is driven by two women inmates from the camp. Nearly every day, their job consists of taking inmates who are leaving to the airport and bus terminals. Quite a different job than those available to us behind the fence.

We dropped a camp inmate who'd been down six years to the front gate first. Her family was supposed to pick her up at 7am. We were there at 8am and there was no sign of them. So, we had to leave her at the visitor's center. I hope she found her family!

We then started our drive out of Fort Worth, past Cowboy's Stadium, past Six Flags and Hurricane Harbor, and finally toward the airport. The Third one and I were each dropped at different terminals to catch our flights. Security is always a nightmare when carrying liquid medication. It can't go through the x-ray, so I have to ask for a hand search. My other stuff went through the x-ray and I go through the fancy machine where I have to put my hands over my head and it puts an image of me on a screen - all clear.

Then I am pulled to the secured area. I'm told I have to be pat down due to my needing a hand check. I say, "I know, no problem, been through that before." They don't know that just recently I learned the correct stand for a pat down. I turn around and put my arms out and she tells me that I should face her - okay, that didn't work at Carswell last week! As she does her pat down, she informs me of how and what she is doing at each step ("the back of my hand will now go under your breast"). Another thing that doesn't happen at Carswell. My body, my medication, and my bag are all cleared and the NTSB guy builds me a handle for my large box out of NTSB tape. Now, I don't have to use two hands to carry it. I thank him and find my way to the gate.

I called Red's MIL, but only get her voicemail. I left a message about the Marshalls, hating that I had to leave a message. I'll try calling again later.

The plane just took off and I'm flying out of Texas. My furlough ends in about five hours. I'll likely sleep through most of it. Thank god I brought my earplugs. Turns out a chatty-Cathy who is on her 2nd flight ever wants to tell her life story to her neighbor right behind me. I'm looking down on clouds.

The Last Night

Okay, I need to admit yet one more thing... going home didn't really hit me. Too many walls up in a place like this. I hoarded things - "what if I'll need this?" I held on to more clothes than needed. I had a bunch of "just in case" thoughts.

It didn't help tonight when I looked at the call-out sheet and I'm not listed for R&D tomorrow morning. None of us are. Someone really failed in their job. We were not on any of the usual "hey, you're leaving" call-outs. I'm only sad about that because across the fence, at the camp, Lola will not see that I'm leaving. The camp and prison share a call-out sheet. That's how I know when Lola and Chi went through camp orientation, that Chi got a job at the power plant, and that Lola is a camp orderly. I can kinda still keep tabs on my friends from afar. I know Lola is looking me up too. She won't know, yet, that I'm leaving.

So, Red, the Third one and I suspect we should be at R&D at 6am. They could come get us earlier or we can stand there for over an hour, no way of knowing. Doesn't matter, we are all leaving here tomorrow - one last line to stand in.

Tonight, I had dinner with Nurse. Others joined us at the table. Nurse made a spice noodle tuna soup concoction - sounds different - but I ate my part all up - YUM! Then, I sat with Mama and other friends and played a couple games of Canasta. A perfect wind-down. I, then, took a shower, for the last time in those prison showers, and got comfy.

People shared contact information with me - parents/spouses names and phone numbers, so I can check up on how they are doing. I shared my info as well. We aren't allowed to communicate, but it doesn't stop us from caring about one another.

I had some good talks with friends - Cali, Taz, Red, Bunkie, and others. They know I care. I know they do. Soon, I pray, it will be them going home. I gave my lock, a highlighter, and anything else I had left to give away to a new woman who has no financial support. She was grateful.

So all that, and I still didn't have a big smile on my face. I still didn't believe I'm leaving. Until... I threw away five pairs of cheap, nameless, tearing at the seams, stretch band coming off, white granny underwear!!! That one act got a huge smile on my face. I'm leaving and I can wear my cute hipsters once again! I am still carrying a couple pair with me, since I didn't get my out clothes, but, soon, those will be tossed as well.

So, what got me to fully realize I'm leaving is getting rid of the tighty whities. Who knew it could be so simple??

The Merry-Go-Round

I'm finally able to post, so there will be many blogs uploaded at the same time... hope they are informative and you enjoy the read:

5/27/14
It's the day before I leave Carswell, commonly referred to as "the merry-go-round." If you conjure up an image of happy people riding plastic animals with music and smiles, then you know nothing of the type of merry-go-round I am on. Perhaps if going in circles and up-and-down is the idea - then, yeah, it's a merry-go-round of sorts.

So, typically, my name would have been on the call-out sheet last night informing me to show up to Property today for my "pack-out." As we know, nothing has gone according to process, so why would this be any different - no one was called out, not me, not Red, not the Third woman in my unit also leaving. So, after breakfast with Freckles, I loaded my two boxes onto a card and walked to the property open house at 7am.

It's an open house, but no one was there. Instead, the staff woman was working in the mail room. A line formed - people waiting to pick up their property (transfers to Carswell from other institutions) and the three of us trying to pack out. About 7:45am, the staff member told everyone there would be no open house today due to a heavier need in the mail room (due to yesterday's holiday). I informed her that we need to pack out and she asked if we were on the call-out. We said, "no, but we leave tomorrow." Her eyes got big, "tomorrow?!?!?!?" It's as if no one has ever done their job before. So, she tells us to sit and wait, and wait, and wait.

Red goes to the counselor's office, meanwhile, to pick up our merry-go-round papers, since we were also supposed to be there at 7:45am. The counselor isn't there at 7:45, 8:00, 8:15... So, Red joins back up with us and goes about packing out, finally. It was quick and easy for her. Her clothing from home were here and everything she's taking fit into the backpack her family sent.

For me, of course, nightmare!! The woman takes one look at my two boxes and says, "we don't do that mailing!" Umm, really?!?! She tells me that I needed to send them out through my unit counselor. The same counselor who recently told me that he's not responsible for mailing out my stuff. I have a pocket full of stamps and all I want to do is mail my few things home that I can't carry with me. Okay, I'm a hoarder, slightly more than a few things. The staff member just keeps bitching about the boxes and I inform her that I just got my official date a week ago - I couldn't really take care of this stuff in advance.

So, not wanting to give in, she calls my unit manager to complain that she has to do this mail out. I'm not sure what he said back to her, but then I am told to inventory my stuff - including the stuff I'm carrying out - which I did not know to bring with. There's no manual on this stuff. Ugh.

So, I try my best to remember everything I'm carrying out (forgot a few items), and also inventory my boxes thoroughly as she looks to see I'm not taking anything not allowed home, and I have to fill out some mailing forms. I ask the P.O. Box for here and she literally snarls at me, "how long have you been here?" "Nine months," I reply. "And you don't know the address?" I tell her that I barely ever had to write it. She says, "you never write anyone?" I tell her that our envelopes already have the address. It didn't go well when I had to ask for the zip code a wee bit later.

Then, we walk 20 feet to the mail scale and weigh the boxes - 49 stamps on one, 75 stamps on the other. So, I get to work putting one stamp at a time on the boxes - rows of 10 stamps at first to keep my counting easier. The staff member opens the door to the mail room, and we put my packages in their rightful place. Umm, property is literally attached to the mail room, but she doesn't do mailings??

I ask about my out clothing that Sporty over-nighted to me on Thursday, costing me $40. Not here. Okay, I know it's here, but she does nothing to find it - so, I'm leaving in my greys. Now, they will have to mail my package back to me -- when they actually go and get it.

Finally packed out, I roll the empty card that I need to now return to the housing unit and try to find Red and the Third. I catch them coming off the elevator - still the counselor is out. It's after 9am and we can no nothing without that paper. The paper lists 12 places we need to go to in the institution and have signed - psychology, med records, legal records, R&D, education, safety, business office, laundry, etc. We are told that they throw the sheet out at the end, but I still go about wanting to do it. I mostly follow rules and all three of us do choose to follow this one. So, we sat outside (closed move) to figure out how we go about getting our form if the counselor fails to show.

I'm still pulling the now empty cart and find my way into my housing unit to drop it off, but I get locked inside. My case manager comes by and I tell her about not being able to get the form from the counselor. Wah-lah - she talks with another case worker, who takes about 2 minutes to print out copies of the form for all of us. Yay, we can officially start the process!

The Third and I choose to take our clothes to laundry first, but no one was there to go through it, so a staff member told us to put our bags behind the door and come back later - okay. Then we go to the business office, where we fill out a form with our exit addresses - just in case money comes in for us (not likely in my part). We go to institutional records and get screamed at for knocking on the door, but someone signs the form without even looking to see if we have any detainers - really??? Why do they require this merry-go-round if people don't even look us up?

It's about that time with the Third one says, "let me see your sheet." I show it to her and she crinkles it into a tight ball. I looked at her with a crazy look, "what are you doing???" Turns out there is a superstition here that if your merry-go-round paper is all wrinkles and torn, it means you will not come back. It's well known, as not less than six more people throughout the morning crinkled up my paper. The OCD in me went off the charts - trying to reflatten it out!!

After we finished with records, we went to medical records. The way they are supposed to work is that we fill out a cop-out to get a copy of our med records. Weeks later, we are called in to receive the copy. I have been requesting my records since February and never received them. I brought a copy of my cop-out that showed that they said they would provide them to me, but still, they said, "no." to our getting our records. They gave us an address to write and request them. I explained that I have a doctor appointment this week - required by the BOP, and they need my records. The woman goes into the office (we are forced to have these conversations in the main building hallway), and then a man with even more attitude comes out. He doesn't believe I must have my medical records this week. I tell him that he call call my case manager for confirmation. I show him the cop-out they sent me. Finally, he goes back into the office, and then he comes out and says my file will have a cd with the records for me to take. I pray it's there tomorrow when I leave. Nothing goes easy here - nothing!!

Next step, education. Door is locked, so we have to wait. The Third one needs to talk to the Chaplain next door. We run into Red, who is taking care of her merry-go-round on her own. Meanwhile, we see the entire high rise housing unit being emptied. Is is a shake down? A fire drill? We are told that we need to go outside and join all the other inmates on the lawn - the staff is running an emergency drill. It takes a good 30+ minutes for full drill to happen. We stand in humid 90 degree heat, with the majority of the other inmates.

Once allowed back into the building, we go back to education for their signature. No love lost between me and that place, but I will always be grateful for the experience. 11am, I go back to my housing unit to await being called for lunch. I meet up with Freckles for our last meal together. I am not getting dinner here tonight, I'm having tuna with Nurse. Freckles and I toasted to "lifelong friends" and ate a decent meal of chicken salad, cottage cheese, cold noodle salad, a water beverages.

Freckles decided to join me on the rest of my merry-go-round. We start at laundry, where I am accused of not bringing my pillow earlier, then to psychology, I catch safety in the hallway, and finally we go to the Lieutenants office. For the first time ever, I had to sit and wait on the infamous blue benches (outside the Lieutenants office, where everyone in trouble has to go). We wait about 20 minutes, but finally I get someone to sign my form. My form fully filled out and signed, I bring it back to the case manager about 12:30pm. I was heading to my room to change into my greys and relax when Red reminded me that I have my 1:45pm injection. It's Tuesday, not Monday, so I totally forgot. So grateful she reminded me - stay in my uniform for another hour.

I started writing this in my unit at 12:30pm, but now it's 2:10 pm and I'm sitting in the clinic waiting for my name to be called for my last injection at Carswell - the only kind of "shot" I received. It really is possible to stay out of real trouble while locked up!

The clinic is pretty packed for an afternoon. As always, people are talking about when they will leave - November, next year, 5 more years, I hear. People talk to loud, it's impossible not to eavesdrop. A woman I know with a life sentence for murder, sits nearby. She likes me and hopes I have a good life. Some say she's confessed to her crime - she told me an hour long story, recently, about her innocence. I don't pretend to know the truth - she's considered a "famous" inmate - books/tv shows about her. To me, she's just a very sad and bitter older woman. Her biggest worry, she tells me constantly, is that her 40 year old son is not yet married. She has asked me if I will play 'matchmaker' for him on the outside.

My injection is now down and I'm outside sitting on "lovers row." Twenty-four blue benches next to one another on either side of a wide sidewalk. I guess early mornings and nights, couples make-out and try to get away with hidden touches here. It's 2:30pm right now and about 40 women are sitting here waiting for the next open move. No kissing or touching that I can see. Some are sitting along, some having conversations with friends - 18 to 80 year olds sharing the same benches. Some people in wheelchairs, some walkers, come canes. Officers are all over, getting fresh air and enjoying the cooler breeze that has come over the compound.

There's a landscaping inmate employee weeding the small flower gardens by the units. She seems perfectly happy working by herself, her hands getting dirty, adding beauty to this place. Another inmate is sweeping the sidewalk in a unit doorway. The sidewalks need to be cleaned many times per day. The pigeons sit above and their droppings cover that area. Just two days ago, I watched a woman get slammed on her shirt with pigeon droppings. Well, that's good luck for her, I suppose.

The officer in charge of my unit is outside, getting off on catching people trying to go toward the units early or exit out the door he left unlocked. While he is at one set of doors, women take a run for trying to get to other doors without being caught. This game the C.O. is playing is of his own making - usually, we stand by the doors until open move. Today, you can get in trouble for doing so. The rules change based on C.O. and people left to try to figure out the rules of the day. We are all set up to fail.

I'm going to spend most of tonight just relaxing. I didn't sleep well last night. My head is full of thoughts. I may be done with the institutional merry-go-round, but the circles of thought will stay going in circles in my head.

From Dragonfly: Last Writing from Carswell

Since my phones and email will be turned off tomorrow morning, as the prison does their work to prepare for my departure, this is the last time I will be writing from prison. I pray with all my being that there would not be anything that would take me back to prison again. I made mistakes, but I am not a bad person and I do not belong here.

So, it's a holiday at the compound. They are doing a brunch for lunch and a special dinner, consisting of hot wings. We've only had the wings once before and it was a big hit! It still amazed me how much what is on the menu matters here. We have so few things that bring us happiness.

My party last night was good. It kind of got rained out, but we did the pics and then ate wonderful cheesecake in the unit - made by Nurse and supplies by many including Taz, Cali, Freckles, and Appeal. Freckles made a fruit salad, but we are going to eat it today. Freckles wasn't able to join us for the cheesecake, because we couldn't eat outside due to the weather and she doesn't live in our unit. The mother/daughter inmates I've talked of before joined us. I really like them. Conversation was good and it was a nice send-off.

It wasn't an easy day, though. Other than the party and working out, I spent most of the day in my room, reading. I have always hated "goodbyes," and there are a few people I'm really going to miss. I already miss South and Lola, but now I'm leaving others - good people who also made some mistakes in their lives. There's one person I am going to miss most of all, and I told her so. Somehow, I know it is not a forever "goodbye" when we walk out of this prison. The old saying, "people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime..." Well, I truly believe that and there's a lot of reasons many people came into my life while I was in prison. I learned a lot and I hope they learned from me as well. I do think, though, there may be a couple "lifetime" people from this experience as well. Distance and rules will keep us apart for a while, but our memories will keep our relationships alive.

I wrote that there was a reason I was going to prison and I knew that I was meant to meet someone or they me, and I may never know why or who. I can't question the work of my higher power. This experience has changed me profoundly. I have a new understanding of so many things and some are good and some not so good, but I leave here stronger, more confident, and not afraid of my past.

Writing has been an incredible outlet for me. It has given me a portal to share my thoughts and emotions. I have come to wisdom through it, and I have gained strength through it. I can't imagine a time when I will not want to write. What amazes me, still, is that I have an audience who choose to read my experiences. I hope you feel that I am a whole person - filled with excitement, fear, happiness, sadness, anxiety, curiosity, intelligence, humility, gratitude, stupidity, love, caring, simple thoughts, complex thoughts, and so much more. It's very hard to write a "whole" person and not try to put up a "mask" of the person we want people to see. I hope you have found the rawness of this writing for me, and my attempts to never hide who I really am, my flaws/defects included.

I hope this writing has helped and continues to help women and men finding themselves facing the unthinkable - time away from their loved ones for months or years. I will never say it is an easy experience. I wonder how long it will take for some of my walls of protection to fall away once I am out of here. Will I be able to get a full night's sleep once again? Will the sound of keys always make me jump just a bit? Will I be my old extroverted self (I've been called shy many times here - most recently by Red)? If you are facing this experience, though, you should prepare to get by just one day at a time. All the unknowns can hold you under and keep you down, don't let them. Try your best to make each day special. Take care of yourself - no one will do it for you. Learn a new craft. Learn new card games. Read a lot. Work an interesting job. Do an apprenticeship and/or take classes. Work out. Write (most people write letters, I was better at just writing this). Never forget to tell your loved ones that you miss and love them.

I will keep a journal of the upcoming days until I can write again. Once I can, I will type up my writings. I'm sure my observations will include the story, the humor, the chaos, the anticipation, the anxiety, the fear, the wonder, and so much more. So, stay tuned...

From Dragonfly: A Last Hurrah

Well, my friends didn't listen, so they are still going full speed ahead with a party for me tonight. We are starting with pictures at 6:45pm, followed by a cheesecake. I think Freckles is bringing me a fruit salad, because she knows it's what I want. ha. I'm not really going to say "goodbye" to anyone, I still have two more days and a wake-up, but we will just sit and enjoy each other's company, perhaps watch the big kickball game happening on the field (until the humidity says I should go inside).

Tomorrow will be my last day of having email and phone. They turn them off as part of the merry-go-round I'll have to do on Tuesday. I'll dress in my khaki's for one last time and go around with a slip of paper to every major office on the compound, getting signatures, saying I'm "released" to go. I hear they just throw away the forms, so I don't know why the ritual is so important, but I'll do it. Others tell me they won't. I'm still a rule follower - at least most of the time!!!

I just had my last "laundry war," as I did my last load while I'm here. Someone moved my clothes to the dryer early and then tried to take my stuff out of the dryer before they were dry. Luckily, I caught them in the act, and my clothes stayed in. Someone I know will wash my dark greys on Tuesday, so I can wear them to R&D on Wednesday and also have them for pj's on Wednesday night in the halfway house. I literally used my very last scoop of Tide. At least my pillow case will smell fresh for my last couple of days here.

I'm about to go to the rec center and meet up with Freckles. We will do a Jillian Michael's workout. We did a beginner step workout yesterday - I prefer the Michael's workouts more. I may also do "Pilate's for Dummies," which is a good stretch and shape as well. There are like 194 videos to choose from - a good amount of different types of workouts. For me, I stick to the beginner and low intensity level, I can't jump, run, hop, etc.

So, it'll be a good day. I am still smiling. My last weekend day in prison. I hope everyone I hurt can see that I've paid my consequences. They wanted me in prison. I did prison. I hope everyone lets the past go and moves forward with their lives.

From Dragonfly: Overcrowded

When I first arrived at Carswell, the place was really overcrowded. We had to wait in the longest lines. We barely had beds available for newbies. People with lower bunk passes were forced on upper bunks. People with bottom floor passes were forced on the second floor. Meals went forever, trying to get so many people through the chow hall that seats like 250 on a good day.

Then, toward the end of last year and during the beginning of this year, people got shipped out. Many people were sent to the new prison in Alabama. Others were transferred to other facilities. Carswell got rid of about 300-400 people in a short amount of time, and things were a little easier. Many rooms had 3, instead of 4, people. Lower tier, bottom bunks, were still scarce, but they were found in time. Lines became a bit more manageable (except for pill line - it's never manageable).

Well, over the past month, we've gotten to our max again. Every bed in our unit is filled. There's even a possibility of overflow going on cots. There is no where to send anyone. Lower bunks are all taken. There's never an empty bunk for someone who needs to move - one person needing to move, means that they have to switch units or move with someone else. There is a constant struggle between people's limitations and the beds available. Meal lines have gotten horrible, with us often waiting until 6pm for dinner, even though chow hall is supposed to open at 4:30pm and we are second in the order.

Everything is louder. Crowds are everywhere. I find myself spending more time in my room, avoiding the crowds when possible. I've read four books in as many days and just got two more from the library. I expect to have them done by Monday. I'm walking the track a lot and working out, but by the track is the softball field, and there's constant commotion there. Fights break out everywhere. We watched four or five women hauled off to the SHU in handcuffs tonight --- it's always about a fight or drugs. Fights are always about girlfriends or drugs. My choice is to stay away from crowds.

I regret not buying a radio and headphones. There are plenty of old movies on in the atrium televisions to keep me occupied. I watched Rio yesterday saying, "I can read beak..." Good thing I've seen the movie before. If you are headed in, the basic radio is enough - the mp3's cost a lot, as do the song downloads. Depending on how important it is that you have specific music available, the basic radio gets local stations and the television digital channels. I'm glad I never went for the mp3, but I do wish I had a radio at times. I was often able to borrow one, but not much recently. It's okay, though, cards and books keep me occupied and away from the crowds.

There needs to be a change in the system. They can't just keep locking up women with no where to put them. They need to get people out of here. They need to give more time in community services to people through the Second Chance Act (barely ever done by the staff here). For every five of us going home, there are thirty people coming in on a bus. All the women's prisons are at capacity. Something really needs to change. Overcrowding is unsafe, unhealthy, and unfair.