Lifting the Fog

Anniversaries, birthdays and special days generally mean a lot to me. For example, today would have been my dad's birthday and marks two years of my freedom. My release from Carswell 2 years ago yesterday but it is the 29th that is the first day I did not wake up in a prison. Today I woke up and reflected on the past two years of how my life has changed, how I have grown, and how things in some ways are not so different. Mostly, though, I am thinking about the post-prison release fog that I was initially under and wondered where I may be in terms of my recovery from the experiences of living within the prison environment.

In recovery, we often talk of the fog that newcomers to our rooms experience at first. It is only with time away from our addictive behaviors and working our recovery program that the "fog begins to lift" and we see/hear the voice of true recovery start. The newcomer will often share things they didn't realize they were doing while in the throws of their addiction due to their irrational thinking/ behavior. They will start to put pieces of their behavior from that time together into patterns and start to understand how the addiction controlled so much of their life beyond just the acts of the addiction - chasing highs, financial woes, withdrawal, planning the next action, lies and hiding behaviors,... addiction consumes one's life and is progressive in its nature. It can take weeks, months, and for some, years for the fog to fully lift on all the ways our addiction hurt ourselves and the lives of those around us. Staying in recovery, talking about it in our rooms, counseling, and being honest, is the way our heads can clear fully from the fog to see our behavior and actions for what they were and recover fully.

What I've realized in these past two years is that time in prison, no matter who one is and the reason for the imprisonment, results in a similar fog. The day to day reality of prison life, with fears of the unknown, survival instincts at their highest limit, emotional abuse from prisoners and staff with little recourse, sights/sounds that no one should have to witness, policies that make little sense and can change without warning, overcrowded quarters, and the loss of the comfort of friends/family/home, results in prisoners undoubtedly needing a little support upon release. The fog prisoners, such as myself carry, includes emotions such as shock, fear, and anger. Even more so, though, we do not have easy outlets (like 12 step recovery programs) to work through how we may be feeling.

When living in prison day-to-day, a prisoner is not necessarily able to see the full picture of what prison life looks like from the outside or how all the little things add up. The concept of becoming "institutionalized," is often talked about, but it is not hard to understand that in order to survive in prison, it is practically impossible to stay 100% away from all the ways prison changes a person for the worst. I walked into prison and within the first week stated, "I am here for myself only...," yet found myself doing for others in ways I never imagined I would (even if it meant I was pushing up against prison rules). I swore I would not be part of the underground prison market, yet quickly learned it was truly the only way to survive. I knew no prisoner who did not at least 'purchase' through exchange of commissary goods some other goods or services through the underground market. I witnessed drug transactions, drug use and abuse within 2' of where I laid my head, saw innocent people blamed for the acts of others and did not speak up, saw domestic abuse and did nothing, became friendly with a woman who chopped her husband into several pieces because he cheated on her, sat at tables and talked with admitted child molesters for hours, snuck food out of the chow hall, and quit a job I loved because I was unable to stand up for myself against a woman bullying me. These are just a few of the experiences I had, and some I never wrote about for fear of what could happen to me from staff or other prisoners. Each day, these things were not as impactful on me as what they all together did even as I only served a short sentence. In many ways, I became institutionalized because I no longer was myself while I was in prison and the longer I was there, the more it felt familiar and the more I came to accept the unacceptable as normal.

Once out of prison, I could not just "jump" into life. Most ex-prisoners do not have to. We face the reality of halfway houses, come confinement, extended probation/supervision. Even as I write of freedom, I have my federal supervision which limits me still. Perhaps I could have been free of that by now too, but my health over the past 6+ months resulted in me not completing the large packet that must be filled out. I plan to complete it very soon and regardless my 3-year supervision will be over within the next year. Will freedom feel any different than now? The only real changes will be not having to ask for permission to travel and I will not have to complete a monthly report online. Perhaps I will set a goal to be off by the end of this calendar year. I like goals with dates.

The real reason I could not jump into life was not due to the Feds' restrictions on me, though, it was the fog. While I could get through my days, I was trying to get back to the life I had prior to prison (I was already in recovery so I am not talking about the life I had that led to my being incarcerated). The fog did not allow me to see that I was no longer the same person, even though I was still a good person and wanted some of the same things in life, I needed to work through how prison had affected me. I needed the fog to start lifting so I could start to put pieces of my time in prison together into patterns and start to understand how that time changed so much of my life beyond just how I thought about it day-to-day. I needed to be able to let go of the fears and learn to accept and live honestly about the trauma I had just experienced. We may be prisoners due to our own past mistakes, but that does not make us any less human from experiencing trauma and being victims ourselves.

Unfortunately, there is not a recovery program for recently released prisoners. In fact, after having built so much comradery with people who understood deeply our pain and fears with other prisoners while inside, we are suddenly cut off from them all and told we are never to have contact with them or anyone else with similar experiences again. It is exactly the fellowship of people who understand because they have gone through a similar experience or are having a similar experience that makes recovery programs so strong. Not being able to have that to recover from the trauma of life in prison, can result in depression, unhealthy behaviors (addictions), and back to the behavior that led them into prison in the first place or to violate their parole (revolving door due to the comfort of prison life).

Often people after prison will choose the decision to leave it all behind. South was one of those people. She was pretty clear that she would go home, pick up her life, and not talk about the experiences. She never kept in touch with anyone from what I know and I pray she is well. What worries me about people who choose to stuff the experiences is how secrets of traumatic experiences can eat away at us. If we are not open and honest about what happened to us, around us, etc., the trauma can come out in different ways (think military soldiers who do not find healthy ways to cope with combat experiences). Of course all people are difference and all prisoners have differing experiences, but based on what I experienced, the lives of those I met while at Carswell, and my criminal justice studies in the last two years, I really think it is openness and honesty with friends, family, and especially other people who went through similar experiences that helps lift our fog and leads us toward healthy decisions and a new life.

One thing that has helped me substantially is my own writing. Not new writing, because I obviously have failed to write as often as I used to, but my old writing from the time of my incarceration. I was able to add to this blog some of my letters that I wrote home as well as some important notes that I wrote while in prison and brought home with me. I added them to the blog on the days they were written. The blog posts and those additional letters/notes are the data for my thesis. It is very non-traditional to use a blog for a thesis, even more so to use one's own. I do not believe there is any thesis of a former prisoner who provides a hypothesis based research study off of data from a public blog maintained while they were in prison. My hypotheses are looking at the existence of self-efficacy and collective efficacy in women's prisons. I additionally look at whether prison staff influence self or collective effacy in a positive or negative way. Finally, I consider whether specific prisoner identity factors affect self or collective efficacy.

If you are curious, for my thesis, those words of self and collective efficacy mean:

Collective efficacy: shared social expectations that lead to control of social space to reduce tension, crime, etc.

Self-efficacy: people are able to produce what they hope to accomplish through their own actions and make appropriate behavioral decisions. This is based on the person’s ability to cope, put in effort, and sustain adverse obstacles without defensive behavior

Through my work on my thesis, I have been able to look back on my prison experience through the eyes of a researcher, as well as relive some experiences. Sometimes, I am shocked reading about what I wrote or sad that I did not include what I wish I could have (such as the full experience and effects of the Christmas night raid). Simply keeping my blog put me on alert and that reality, even today, is something I will never forget. I am grateful for this opportunity to look at the experiences published through this blog from an outsiders point of view, even if I lived them, as they are helping me continue to life my fog, even two years after my release.

I strongly suggest for anyone who is newly released from prison, that they find a healthy outlet to release their full experiences. Holding them in will not help them in the long run. Honestly will free us of the pain and help set us toward true freedom.

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.

A January Letter Tells All to Survivor

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

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

1/27/14

Survivor -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miss you tons - Love you more!

Dragonfly

Letter Mailed Home to Survivor

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

9/13/13

Hi Survivor,
I've thought a lot about you today. I wonder if something is happening to you or your family that is putting you at the forefront of my brain - or maybe it is just that I miss you!

I have a new room! The whole room is 10' long and 7 1/2 ' wide. About 2' separate the 2 bunk beds - four people in 75 square ft. Here's a diagram: Room 140 in Unit 1 South (first floor)

They moved 4 of us out of the bus stop to make room for the people who are not paying their frp (restitution payments) due to lack of finds or being an frp rejector.

Unfortunately South is still stuck in the bus stop and she is not happy about it, but she does not complain. It's going to be hard not having her nearby - as we have really supported one another a lot. Since I'm housed on the first floor, I can't go on the second floor so there's few ways for her and I to communicate. My new roommates I don't know, but they are named ***, ****, and *****. Not good that my name rhymes with 2 of my roommates.

I do not have a great window view. I see the indoor center and a lot of perimeter fencing (a constant reminder that I am locked in). My window faces east. The bars on it are thick and grey - yep, I'm behind bars... But, a new adventure starts with this move. There's no guarantee that I'll be in this room permanently - nor my roommates, so it's all a day at a time.

I'm having a blanket crocheted for me. It's going to be brown, ayran, and possibly burgundy. I figured I can take it home with me and it will go will with my room or the living room. 

In 10 minutes, 8:45 pm, I have to check-in for "extra duty" - meaning I have to clean the unit from 8:45- 11pm, except for standing count (which I do not have to stand outside my room for anymore, just inside). I was talking with Chi in the hall & didn't realize it was 4pm - which means we both have extra duty tonight. People with extra duty have to wash walls, floors, etc. I let the C.O. know that I can't stand the full 2 hrs & need a job that accommodates that. We will see. I keep getting in trouble for not knowing rules... Must go.

Love,

Dragonfly

Logging a Full Day at FMC Carswell

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

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

4:45am

Wake-up on own; stretch painful joints

4:55am

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

5:00am

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

5:45am

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

5:53am

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

6:00am

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

6:10am

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

6:18am

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

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

6:30am

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

6:50am

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

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

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

 7:00am

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

7:05am

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

7:20am

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

7:40am

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

7:45am

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

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

8:05am

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

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

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

8:45am

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

9:00am

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

9:44am

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

9:55am

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

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

10:00am

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

10:05am

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

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

 10:15am

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

10:25am

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

10:30am

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

10:35am

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

10:40am

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

10:45am

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

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

10:50am

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

10:52am

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

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

11:00am

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

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

11:10am

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

11:15am

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

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

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

11:25am

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

11:30am

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

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

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

12:00 noon

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

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

12:25pm

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

12:55pm

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

1:00pm

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

2:30pm

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

2:45pm

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

3:00pm

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

3:10pm

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

3:20pm

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

3:30pm

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

 3:41pm

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

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

 3:56pm

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

4:30pm

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

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

5:00pm 

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

5:10pm 

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

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

5:18pm 

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

5:35pm 

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

5:40pm 

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

6:15pm 

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

7:05pm 

I’m off to tutor GED math J

8:50pm 

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

9:04pm 

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

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

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

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

9:30pm 

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

9:40pm 

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

9:57pm 

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

10:07pm 

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

10:15pm 

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

10:25pm 

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

10:33pm 

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

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

10:37pm 

“Lights out” by the C.O. 

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

10:45pm 

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

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