Presenting in Mexico

So, I presented on you again. You being this blog, this experience, this time of my life that now feels forever ago. I am at an academic conference in Mexico City. Had I not gotten off probation early, I would not be here, as I would not have been allowed to apply for a new passport or travel internationally until after July 2nd. Today's presentation was on Collective Efficacy in a Women's (prison) Medical Center. It stemmed from my thesis. I presented with the most remarkable panel of scholars and felt inadequate. I received very positive feedback, though, and was once again encouraged to get this published (academic journals). It's interesting how unique people think my scholarship in this area is, when in fact thousands of women experience what I did on a daily basis and could write this as well. The truth, though, is that few scholarly articles really reflect the realities of life in a women's prison (especially federal and almost nothing on medical facilities). If my writing could help change correctional policy for even one woman, it's all worth it!!

I feel very grateful that I found the way to maintain this blog while in prison. The ability to read some of my experiences really puts any turmoils I currently have in perspective. I mean, if I could survive Carswell, I could survive anything, right?!? I recently celebrated 9 years of being clean from gambling and GA recovery. I went to dinner with two women from my GA group and it was perfect. Fellowship is one of the most important parts of recovery for me.

Here in Mexico, I've felt very alone. I did not travel with anyone here, and I find myself always having difficulty with networking. In fact, today was the first real meal I had with someone (5 days here) and it was a fascinating person who was on the same conference panel as me. Just that one lunch, made me feel so much better. I even went to 2 group conference activities earlier in the week and fails to talk with anyone. I'm like the most introverted extrovert you ever met!

I thank god, though, that even though I was alone all week, I still work a strong program of recovery. It turned out the Airbnb I was staying at was less than a block from a Mexico City casino. I haven't been that close to a casino in years. In our program we know that "caught off guard and under the right set of circumstances" anyone could relapse and gamble again. It's continued attendance and service in GA that helps us be able to make healthier choices. So, I never once even considered entering that casino - even though no one would ever know. For me, just one bet would take me right back to the person I was over 9 years ago. I never, ever, want to be that person, that addict, again. Having paid the huge consequence of being in prison and having a felony for the rest of my life is a constant reminder how low my life could get if I ever placed that first bet.

I learned today that one of my sponsees was just sentenced to about 21 days in jail. She has faced incredible public backlash for her financial crime related to her addiction to gambling. Without that backlash, the prosecutor was recommending probation only. Due to public outcry, she will spend 3 weeks in jail. It may sound insignificant that it is "only" 3 weeks, but I remember feeling that Kay one day was too much! If you read my first 3 weeks in prison, it was overwhelming and fearful. I can only send her prayers and hope she knows I'm thinking of her, because as of right now I do not know where she's been placed. Once I do, I will write to her and visit her when I return to the U.S. from Mexico. I know she read some of this blog prior to sentencing and I can only hope it gave her some insight into the fact that in the end, things will be okay! I just wish I could give her a huge hug right now! Instead I will ask all of you to send her your prayers, and I will give her the pseudonym Peace, because that is what I wish for her!!

I also received news that my first cousin is in hospice. She's barely 50 years old. She's a lovely person too. Cancer :-(. I always had these intentions to spend more time with her and she did me. We always said we'd visit one another, and meant it. Life got in the way. Never let life get in the way of spending precious time with important people. You never know when they may leave your life too soon. One thing I know, though, is she will be one of those dragonflies that Survivor always tells me about - those who have passed and look out for you after. She will be a beautiful dragonfly! I hope to see her before she goes. I want to share one significant experience I had with her. When I was 9 years old, and she was already a young adult, she took me to see E.T. It was the first time we spent time together just the two of us. It was also one of the first times I saw a movie without my immediate family. I fell in love with E.T. and had such an amazing day with my cousin that I still remember it 35 years later. She was one of the first people who talked to me like I mattered. I was more than just a kid, but I had thoughts and she wanted to hear them. Please also send your prayers to her, and I'll call her Drew because Drew Barrymore was so amazing in E.T.!

I'm still not sure as to the purpose of my writing in this blog these days. I hate to fully let it go, though. There have been times when this blog was my best friend and gave me purpose. I could not have survived prison in the way I did, without this outlet and connection to others. It does not get a lot of readers these days, although we did recently surpass 100,000 page views!! Thank you!!! Without readers, this would merely be a diary. I hope I continue to find ways to enlighten, provide humor, and help those that are facing what feels like the end of the world as they know it - prison!

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.

December Supervision Update and More

A couple months ago I posted that my P.O. had stated that I should be off supervision by the holidays (remember?). Later, Freckles posted that her P.O. stated that she was told that nearly no one gets off supervision. Well, it is the holidays... what's my status?

I have been on supervision a total of 17 months of my 3 year sentence. Word was that most people have to do at least 18 months, so there's that. What about the "before the holidays," stuff though? I had to go see my P.O. and I have been pushing him in a cordial kind of way... "any movement?" "anything I can do?"

One thing I did was bring in my Carswell certificate that showed I took a class in financial budgeting. It was a requirement of my supervision that I have a financial course and encouraged that I do it while still incarcerated. I didn't mind doing so. It was informative and Glitter taught it. I went for six weeks and we watched videos, filled out paperwork, took a pre and post test. It was legit. I received a certificate and points on my official paperwork for completing it. It was one of the few educational activities where I was a participant and not the educator. My P.O. made a copy of the certificate last time I was there and we crossed that requirement off my paperwork, or so I thought.

Last week, I talked to my P.O. again due to my needing permission to travel for Thanksgiving, and he informed me that he still wanted me to get in another financial seminar ("I don't care how short or long it is"). I guess pushing these programs while still incarcerated don't count once we are out. Luckily, I had several workshops I'd been to that we could choose from. We selected a workshop I recently attended with the youth I work with where I actually took a selfie with Rev. Jessee Jackson Sr. Telling my P.O. that I had a selfie with Rev. Jackson resulted in his wanting me to text him a copy of the photo. While not nearly as informative as the seminar I attended at Carswell, the one day workshop with Jessee Jackson crossed that "t" and dotted that "i," and there was nothing remaining on my requirements from court for concern. No matter what anything may think of Rev. Jessee Jackson, the workshop was really good and he was inspirational to the youth - also, he was impressive to my P.O. which is all that really matter!!!

So, was that enough? Well, no.

Being qualified to be recommended for early release from supervision and having your P.O. actually seek it are two entirely different things! I had done everything expected of me for the last 17 months - monthly reports, paying more than expected in restitution, maintaining my employment, school, solid family life, no negative police interactions, clean from gambling, active in recovery, etc., but there are several people that must make the decision to ACT before anything can happen and the first level had initially decided to NOT act.

My P.O. informed me that the office was so overwhelmed with "bad" drug dealers that they did not have time to go to court to request my early release. Early release is the lowest priority in such a busy office. With the number of people recently being released from prisons, they are just too burdened to take on the work of early release. He admitted he was going to try to get me released before, but too much work has now piled upon him. I think he could see my disappointment as I just stared at him knowing that he had all the power in that room.

I did not let it entirely go, though. I brought up the fact that travel is a real part of my life - as all our family members live out of state and I am constantly burdening him with travel requests.

Next thing that happened is that my P.O. decided that he would call the prosecutor from my case and see if there would be an opposition to early release. If not, it will be much simpler to go forward. That phone call should have occurred this past week. I am supposed to hear back from my P.O. tomorrow.

My P.O. asked me if the prosecutor was being really tough on me. I said that, honestly, he was tough in the fact that he asked for prison and a year and a day, but that he could have gone with the statutory minimums of 3-5 years. My P.O. laughed and said, "he went for a year and a day?"

I said, "I know, he wanted me to be able to get time off..."
My P.O. said, "exactly." One year and I'd have served exactly 365 days in prison and instead I was able to served about 10 months!

I also said that the prosecutor allowed me to hold on to my passport and go to South Africa between arraignment and sentencing. This fascinated my P.O. "You went to South Africa??"

"Yeah, they said I was a good bet." Meaning I wouldn't run. "I told them that they should use a different choice of words on me."

My P.O. is the one person in the legal system who understands my sense of humor around my gambling addiction. I reminded my P.O. that I am 7 1/2 years clean from gambling. I am also 7 1/2 years since any wrong doing.

I do not know what could happen. Will I be released from supervision before my three years are finished or will I have the opportunity to have a judge consider me for early release? These are outside my control.  I will just keep doing the right thing whether on or off supervision and hope that I continue to maintain a decent relationship with my P.O.

Honesty, Open-Mindedness, and Willingness are three words we learn in recovery --- I think they are applicable in our relationships with our P.O.'s as well!

Two Years

Two years ago today I self-surrendered to FMC Carswell. It feels like a lifetime ago and it still feels like yesterday. I have the two boxes I shipped home from Carswell still with me. The blanket I promised to finish had not had a single stitch added. The books that I had to bring home with me have not been touched. I shared photos with some people and I actually carry most of them around in my school backpack. I pull one out from time to time. I look at Lola, South, Freckles, Appeal, Mama, others... Some are out, some still in, some I don't know about. But it makes me think of them. They are all in my heart. I want to think of them, pray for them. They were/are still important to me even if I am unable to keep in touch.

I recently took the most amazing road trip with Sporty, TS, TS' little sister, and TS' girlfriend. It started with visiting my father who is on hospice. It's just a matter of time, but he certainly has help on a long time. The cancer is now everywhere. I was glad to spend the time with him.

The road trip took me through 12 states. I spent two nights in the state where I had lived and worked for 10 years and where my addiction had reached its peak. It is where my crime occurred and where my sentencing was given. My last three times there were always emotional and I left in tears. This time, surrounded by family, it was a real vacation. I was able to show the highlights of the state and city I called home. I visited with some of the people I still call friends and who stood by me all these years (even in the courtroom when our other friends sat on the other side) and my tears were of happiness.

I also learned something - some people who sat on the other side of the courtroom (not all, but some) have started to understand that I do have an addiction and that my behavior was not to harm them or the community. Learning this was huge to me as while I know that other people's opinions don't matter, I never had intentions to hurt others or especially my community or the organizations that I was working with!! I was sooo irrational and lost in my addiction at the time. I thank god every day that I have not placed a bet since May 5, 2008. I hope to make a difference for others to help them stop earlier than I did so they do not go down the kind of path I did!!!

I also received a message recently from someone associated slightly with my old school program. They apologized for a message they sent me prior to prison saying that they never wanted to interact with me again. They had heard the gossip and at the time made a judgement based on it. They asked me for forgiveness. I did not hesitate. I hope you will do the same if people who may not have understood your actions and may have hurt you ask for forgiveness. Remember, we hurt people and we want to be forgiven, we need to do the same back. Also, no one knows anyone's full truth. No one knows yours and you don't know theirs. Peace comes when you allow forgiveness in your heart!!!!

Two years and I’m still in school, but still have three or more years to go, a lot more calm, and close to being off supervision I hope. I still believe in paying it forward. I have not been able to hold up to everything I wanted - like keeping in touch with folks - but since I'm studying criminal justice, I know I'm going to help make a difference! 

I'll never forget that day. Survivor dropping me off. The hugs. Releasing everything to her. Knowing she would sit in that parking lot. Trying not to cry. The drive to the prison in the van. Going through processing. Meeting South. My first meal. Fear. Unmatched shoes. A bra too big. Tight undies. A view of the whole housing unit from my bed. Standing count. Sleeping "on" my made bed instead of in it. Fights. Noise. Light. Stairs. Appointments. Boredom. Confusion. No pillow. No change of clothing. And that was just the first day...

A Carswell Shower

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

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

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

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

The "F" Word

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

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

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

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

Back to the halfway house?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Reality of Time

As I drove home from work today, I thought how much I looked forward to my G.A. meeting this evening and my weekend days ahead. While I'll spend much of the time studying, they will be slower days without feeling as rushed. This sense of "time" is so different than how it felt when I was incarcerated.

Of course there were weekdays and weekends, and there were days, weeks, months, etc. It is just that it all blended in to each other. Living it felt forever and looking back felt like it was no time at all. Now, a day feels like a day, and a week feels like a week. The idea of TGIF works because a weekend truly feels like a weekend.

Last night I had the honor of being able to talk with one of you, a reader of this blog, who is fearing that she may have to face this similar path I've gone down. It's so overwhelming to face it all - all those unknowns - and feel capable of getting through it okay. It comes right back to this issue of time. It's all just one day at a time. If we look at everything that is or may occur, it's a never ending tunnel of time and possibilities and fears. So, keep your focus on today and what you can do just for today. Tomorrow, you will do the same.

It may feel like forever, but for right now, enjoy your Fridays. Enjoy your weekends and your Tuesdays and your September and everything. Don't put yourself into your own prison prior to actually being put in one physically. Whether we have to go to prison or not will be decided at some point down the road, but for now, we have days to live.

Once we are incarcerated, time may have no real meaning. I think that's why we talk things like, "two days and a wake up," or say we are leaving in a month even though 50 days may separate us from when we leave (I.e. It's sept.1 but they leave oct. 24... They would say a month...). Time has no real meaning until you look back.

Here, in the outside world, time has meaning. So make the best of it. Make time for yourself and those you care about. I love that I can sense time in my life once again.

Personal Space

I've recently noticed another change that I don't know to be permanent or not. While I'm still my mostly extroverted self, I actively choose to be more in my own space these days. I like to study alone. I enjoy sitting away from classmates.  I don't even fret about turning my phone off for hours while I'm in school.

Three years ago, when I was started my education program, it took me about two weeks to reach out to five other classmates and start a weekly study group. We would share thoughts on readings, discuss assignments, and support one another through our core courses. 

Now, I find a cubicle on the quiet side of the library, ensuring that no one is right next to me, and quietly I work through my readings and assignments. I have no problem working with groups, yet have no interest in forming any in addition to project groups already set up in classes. I like my independence and enjoy the space it provides me from others.

I can only imagine this must be a direct result of coming out of the overcrowded reality of Carswell. Tonight in class, nearly everyone say on the right side of the classroom. I don't know why. I sat on the left side. I spread my stuff out. I put my bag on the chair next to mine. I didn't use most of it, but I had an entire row to myself. 

I'm not entirely anti-social. A classmate sat in front of me and behind me. We shared comments now and then. I did notice, we all were a bit less distracted by others, though. We also were known by name quicker by our professor. 

I used to want to feel accepted and "part of." Now, I really don't care. There are certainly people I could see being friendly with - which could happen in due time. I don't need it, though. I have amazing people in my life. I'm happy being colleagues with folks. We don't all need to be best friends. 

I am a little surprised though. It is a change of character of sorts. Prison certainly changes us in unexpected ways!

Analytics

Today I received a text from Cache with a screen picture from this blog. She texted, "I guess I'm 59,000..." Wow, 59,000 hits. It's amazing that somehow she happened to be the person that saw the number roll to that even 0-0-0. I remember before I left for Carswell, Cache and I couldn't believe that this site neared 5,000 hits; not it's close to 60,000 a year later.

I want to thank all of you who are daily or frequent readers who for whatever reason, choose to follow this blog and my daily life. It started, honestly, with friends, but through emails and comments I've made new friends and community with people from all over the U.S. and the World. I know that some of you discover this blog through prisontalk, others through loved ones at Carswell, I'm not sure how others have come across it, but I'm glad you've gotten something out of it and have stuck around.

Through google, I am able to see my analytics/statistics on who is reading this blog. Most of you are in the United States, but certainly not all. There are readers from throughout Europe, Russia, Ukraine, Canada, South America, and many other places. Lately, readership in New Zealand has gone up significantly.

Certain blogs also receive much higher readership than others. Some of my posts receive about 25-40 hits, while the average post receives about 60-80 hits. A rare post will receive over 100 hits, with some over 200 and a really rare one (like the first) with over 1,000 hits. I'm a statistics person, so I find all of this fascinating.

On the average day, this blog receives between 150-200 hits. I think that's pretty good for a blog about a random woman going to prison. I'm glad that so many people find something of interest within these posts. 

I write because I love writing, but I write this blog because of all of you and all the people I hope it can help with information, a laugh, empathy, compassion, and community. I am so grateful for every single person who chooses to read even one post on this blog and who tries to do something positive with what they read. 

Thank you all for getting me to 59,000. I do not see that number lightly. You all are part of the community that has supported me through the unknowns of my past year and I will never forget.

💜💜💜

DF Hazel

You'd Do That For Me?

I guess prison really did change me. Before I went, I still had fear of authority. Before I went, I would reluctantly walk up to a professor and insecurely tell them my thoughts hoping they'd think them worthy. Before I went, I feared judgement and belonging and looking over my shoulder and complications and enemies and lies and the truth and losing everything and well... I guess I just was full of fear. 

Maybe the biggest change in me is my lack of fear. Today, I do not fear authority. I walked right up to the director of my academic program, talked access to research with him, and he said, "I'm going to look into that for you." I said, "you'd do that for me?" (All that time in prison, I forgot that people in authority roles really do go out of their ways to help others), and I think I made a good collegial relationship with a very important colleague.

Then, I went directly to a female faculty's office that I want to be on my thesis committee, introduced myself, and we are having coffee together next week. I suppose that's how it's all supposed to happen. I feel as if I'm exuding a confidence I never had in the past - even though I know less about the exact subject matter than in the past, I know how to be a researcher and an academic.

I know where I belong. I am excited to know that the research I may be doing could potentially help many women involved in the federal justice system. Wouldn't it be something if all this experience turned out to help me change the lives of accused and/or convicted female offenders? 

I wish I could share some of this happiness and what is happening with my friends back at Carswell. I wonder how they are all doing. Some may have successfully been transferred by now. Others may still be fighting the system. I wonder who is sick and who is getting out. I pray Taz is well. I imagine Lola and Jin are well at the camp. Is it possible that one of Appeals appeals have won? How much longer does Glitter have? Is Nurse and Cali back in California now? Has Mama seen and/or talked to her boys? Did Curls find a new job? Did they figure out what was wrong with Taz? Has my bunky finally been released? So many women cross my mind. I may not be allowed to reach out to them, but that does not mean I forget.

If I could, I'd let them know that I'm doing what I can to make a difference - one day at a time. It's going to take me years for the degree, but my research will hopefully be useful and help women in the future. All I have right now are my prayers. I'll be doing that for you! 

When it All Fits Together

Today was a really long day. Superdog had me awake before 8am and I was trying to sleep in because I knew my day was going to do late. No luck. Since I was up anyway, I should thank Superdog, because I got in a great morning workout. Then I spent several hours reading article for classes and ensuring I would be ready for whatever was to come my way.

I had to once again stop at HR on my way onto campus. This time, they needed my I-9 form (the official federal employment homeland security form) filled out. Guess they forgot about that yesterday. They asked me to bring in my license and either my ss card or my passport - uh oh...

My passport was turned in one week prior to my sentencing (after I was allowed to travel to South Africa). My ss card and birth certificate were NEVER returned to me (after all the work Survivor, my mom, and Sporty did to get them to me in Carswell). They never made it off my counselor's desk after I saw the envelope there weeks before my leaving. As I exited the facility I asked for the documents, but it was either the docs or my freedom. I chose freedom. All that work to get the documents and I didn't need them because I happened to have a valid drivers license on file. The things no one tells you. So, my ss card and official birth certificate probably remain in a pile on that same desk. I wonder whose folder they will accidentally be put in. Perhaps someone who really is 5'2" and African American...

Anyway, luckily, before turning in my passport, I took pictures of every page that had info, visas, or stamps. I'm nostalgic like that. So, I asked if I could just bring in a photocopy of my passport.  Printed the picture of my info page and met the requirements even though I lacked the documents in hand. I have no idea what I would've done to get a document quickly in order for my hire to finally go through. Always more hoops!!

My first class today was on research methods. I feel like I've now done my schooling backwards. I was conducting research and now I'm in basic level methods courses because I'm starting at the masters level, but I'm sure I'll learn a lot and gain some new foundational understanding within the field of criminal justice. Next semester is the statistics side of all this and I'm geeked to be working in numbers and data again.

Three hours later, one class ended and I was walking into my next class on feminist criminology. I already know I'm going to really enjoy this class. Since I'm really interested in issues around women and incarceration/women and crime, etc - this class will help me with usable theory. Truth is that there's no getting around the fact that makes happen to commit more crimes and more violent crimes than women. However, there's very little research available on the experiences of women involved in the system. I have so many questions floating in my head for potential topics. For this class, my professor expects me to write my thesis proposal by December... And use it to show that I'm ready for the phd program as I apply in January for next year.

It felt great in today's courses. I felt right at home and among colleagues - especially in the feminist criminology course which is all phd students except for myself. I was allowed to engage in discourse that reminded me why I love academia and want to be a researcher and a professor. I asked appropriate questions and participated in group discussion. I felt connected and for a couple moments, I forgot that I was just in prison and that I had been kicked out of this university less than a year ago. I just felt a part of- not different.

It's really starting to click and I'm feeling good about this direction. I wish I could share all this with my friends back at Carswell. I miss so many of them and hate that communication is prohibited. They need to know that life really is possible after release... Tell your loved ones, okay? Please tell them.

Back to School

Now don't get excited, I did not get any news. The title is referring to T.S., not myself. When T.S. chose my University among those she was accepted to, I was thrilled. I knew I would have the responsibility and honor of helping her purchase things for her dorm room and freshman year, make big decisions, and support her through difficult times. I'd promised her a meal off-campus now and then, some laundry assistance, a bathtub when she wanted it, and a listening ear always. So many promises before I learned I would be going to prison, and worst still, have to self-surrender before she even moved onto campus.

Sporty is a great mom and did everything for T.S., but I hated not being there for both of them - the ins and outs of college life, especially at my University, is really an area they lean on me for. I did what I could from Texas - through phone, trulinks, and mail, but I was absent and failed in every one of my freshman year promises to someone who did not deserve to be let down by me.

Being back now gives me the pleasure of a second chance. T.S. may be going into her sophomore year, but she happily still seeks parental type guidance and support. She selected to live on campus for another year, so I get the opportunity to help with the dorm room this time. I already made her happy with one success. She and her roommate really wanted to buy a Capet for the room. The school sells a cheap one for $175 that fits the room. I took T.S. to a carpet store and she bought a remnant of a carpet the same size, worth over $300, for $120. It's softer, fuller, she saved money, and she had no idea remnants existed. Ah, it felt good to help. Unfortunately, the 12x11 carpet is rolled and laying in our entryway all the way to our kitchen until we can move it into the residence hall Friday, which makes our home currently look worse than a dorm room. Superdog can't quite figure out if she should walk over it or if she needs to walk all the way around it to get to the door to be let out.

Other things we are doing is look for a bike (her bike last year was stolen), obviously a better bike lock, buy school supplies (which totally geek me out), pack, organize, shop for some clothes (everyone wants back to school clothes), and talk through ideas. I'm with her every step of the way. 

We are working the same schedule this week, so we spend the rest of the day together, running errands, talking, listening to music, walking here and there, and eating too much. It's perfect and this has been a week I'm so grateful to have with T.S. I told her that I'll probably have empty nest syndrome next week and when she's at school. I'll see her probably weekly or often enough (we will be on the same campus), but it won't be the same. She's an adult, she's already grown up so much in the past year. I have had such an amazing two months spending time with her at home and seeing the maturity first hand. 

It's been an honor to have had T.S. allow me to act as a co/step parent in her life. It has always been up to her and she chose to let me in. Perhaps I healed a part of her and I know she healed a big part of me. Everyday I spend time with her, I am in awe of her individuality, intelligence, maturity, wisdom, creativity, selflessness, and humanity. I can't wait to see what she is like in five years, ten, twenty. In the mean time, I'm just excited to be helping her prepare to go back to school.

One Year

Today marks the one year anniversary of the day I self-surrendered to FMC Carswell. Every moment of the day is still so vivid in my mind. There were so many new sights, sounds, smells, people, touches, clothes, and rules. Nothing in the world prepares you for that first day.

I knew from the beginning that I was not alone. Survivor just dropped me off and I knew that she and my other close friends were all thinking about me and some even shedding tears. My letter writing started immediately. As did my connections with new friends - South, Chi, Freckles, Appeal, Danbury, Lola, Mama, Nurse, Glitter, Curls, Army, Bandana, Braids, Ark, Cali, Taz, Red, Bunkie, Longwinded, Mexi, and many more! Friends and family were a lifeline throughout the last year and I thank every person who has said a kind word, shared a laugh with me, sent me a letter/card/book, tweeted me, Facebook messaged me, sent emails, or prayed for me. While incarcerated and after, my heart has been truly filled with awe at all the love and support I've received. Thank you!!!

I guess, if I lost good time, today would actually be the day I would exit prison. Yesterday would've been 365 days and today was the +1. As the goody two shoes I am, I didn't visit the SHU and lost no good time, so I didn't have to truly max out (I knew of very few who ever did). However, I guess that's another reason this date - Aug 19th is significant (I have 3 min to finish this blog post and upload before the date turns to the 20th -  not going to happen - but know I started on the 19th!!!)

Three years ago, on August 19th, I also started a private blog with one of my best friends and I just realized it today, when the site we used (we stopped posting about 1 1/2 years ago), sent me a your blog turned 3 today email. It appears that August 19th may be a very significant date for me.

Okay, I got my hopes up. I did what I always say DON'T DO! I built expectations and assumptions around today. This morning I put on Facebook that my life would "change" today... All because I believed that today is the day I would hear back from admissions and my hold would be lifted. This belief did not come out of nowhere, mind you. I had some decent clues.

Last week, my supervisor at work received a call from admissions telling her that the application is back at admissions and is now waiting on one more signature from someone who will be back in the office on Tuesday (TODAY - the 19th). I was told by an assistant dean in the grad school that I should hear at the early part of this week. Well, after today, it's the "mid" part of the week... So, you get my drift. I'm doing my best to have patience, but people first told me I'd hear two weeks ago, then last Wednesday, and then Today. 

Did I hear today? Well, I did talk with admissions today. The final person was on vacation and just got back. They are not sure when he will get to my file. That's where it was left. School starts in a week and my job should have started this week. Ce la vie for the life of a felon!

So August 19th resulted in more time volunteer working at my future campus job, spending time with T.S., working out to Jillian Michaels, watching the "American President," and being a plain, good, fine, ordinary day.

The Truth in Social Media

I was looking at my Facebook profile earlier today and it still said that I am an education student at my University. Which, of course, I no longer am. Last night, I discovered a similar issue on my old Instagram account. Throughout the social media world, I am listed as I saw myself prior to my incarceration and have not even thought about updating these things since I've been out... until today...

I imagine I have numerous accounts I don't even think about that are connected to life as it was, not as it is. I do feel, though, that I need to extend my honesty to my social networks and update my information when I discover outdated information. At the same time, I don't need to explain the 9 month gap of my life between August 2013 and May 2014 - if someone asks I'll tell them, but no one's bio says, "and this is the time I was at FMC Carswell." Before I went to prison, I had hoped that I would obtain my PhD by 2016. Now, I am looking at 2018/2019. Quite a difference. These are the changes I am making to my bios.

Experts in the world of social media, employment, and privacy laws warn folks to be careful with what we put out in cyber space. Do you really want your future boss knowing that you were up all night downing shots or that you swear in all your tweets? You may think your privacy settings are such that only those you want will be able to see your updates, but there are a myriad of ways for people to learn about others through social media. When I am about to hire someone, I often google them. I know that people google me as well. I don't need to put anything about my crime or incarceration on my social media, because when they google me, they will learn all about it.

I figure I should just be myself in my social networking world. I am not suave, so I don't need to appear suave. I am not perfect, so I do not need to appear perfect. I'm nerdy, in recovery, bookish, into the arts, a technology geek, quirky, funny, independent, and creative... I think that's what comes out when someone looks at my persona in the social media world.

For ex-felons, it is even more important that we be aware of what our social media presence appears like. Our PO's may be keeping an eye on us through these networks, even if we are unaware of it. Travel outside your region and check-in to a restaurant on Facebook and your PO will know it. Tweet that you are with your bestie from the prison and you may be going back to the prison. Upload a pic to Instagram of you getting high and see how fast your are brought in for a urine sample. Whether you use your real name or not, do not try to play stupid using social media while on parole/ supervision. I truly believe our PO's are much smarter than many of us give them credit for.

All that being said, I don't think for one second that I am really anonymous with this blog. A lot of my friends and family read it and know who I am, obviously. A lot of people I was locked up with know about it. Many of the CO's inside read it - including several that made some backwards comments to me at times about it. It's not hard to figure out who I am - hmmm... one of 4 Jewish women. 5' tall. Entered on August 19th. Left on May 28th. Lived in One North. Gambling addiction. Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah (thanks Seinfeld). I may not use my name, but I did choose to identify myself in numerous ways. I did that because I want to be a real person to everyone who reads this. I did not want this blog to feel like it's being written from a third person point of view.

I have no idea how my PO would or will react if/when he learns about this blog. It is such an important part of my life now. It has almost been over a year of writing nearly every day. I am ten days away from the anniversary of my self-surrender. This blog started as the story of someone preparing for self-surrender, became the story of someone incarcerated, and now talks of like beyond bars. I think it is important that I keep writing. I hope you all feel that although you don't know my direct name or my exact town, that you feel that you know me as a person... I am updating all my social networks, however, I think for now, being Dragonfly Hazel is a persona divide that I am going to maintain for a while.

The Reality of Freedom

Today was a simple day. There were massive thunderstorms last night, so Superdog woke me up shaking, which meant I needed to sleep in a bit. I decided to work from home today and had my boss' blessing to do so. I never changed out of my pj's until after noon.

I worked most of the day preparing reports for work in fun, creative, and informative ways. I took a break around 2pm and did a 1980's jazz aerobic exercise routine that I found on the tv. I heated up my lunch in the microwave and I ate while watching a CNN movie off the DVR.

After Sporty got home, we walked to a restaurant about two blocks from here and enjoyed splitting a soup and sandwich. My student I.D. got us 20% off the bill. I sat on my front stoop and let Superdog do her business on the grass. I spent a while entering bills into electronic payments and deposited a small check via e-deposit through my phone.

Tonight, I did the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. I watched the 7th episode of 24: Live Another Day. I also talked with my mom. Later, I went to my room and read some daily readers with Sporty. I pet Superdog and she is laying beside my bed.

The day wasn't extraordinary, but it was perfect. There are few good days when you are locked up. I'll be perfectly content with many days just like today. We take freedom for granted so often. We always want extraordinary. What we don't realize is that it is the simplest of things that make a day great - and it starts with being grateful for everything we have - including freedom!

Headache

Before my incarceration, I was on a daily migraine medication. I would get headaches all the time. I'd wake up with them and sometimes I'd just have to lay in a dark room for hours. 

I'd had these headaches for years, but only got on the medication a couple months before Carswell. The medication seemed to work, and I only fought about 1/4 the number of headaches. Much more manageable. Other migraine meds didn't work, so I was happy to find one that did.

The one medication that Carswell never approved was my migraine medication. I tried to get it, but it was an absolute refusal from day one. Fighting for my enbrel was most important. Amazingly, I got far less headaches than ever before off medication. I only had a handful of really bad ones the entire time I was incarcerated. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't need the medication anymore.

Since I've been home, my headaches have returned. I now see them come on after meals or in the morning. Perhaps it is an allergy reaction or something in food that I didn't have much exposure to at Carswell. 

Someone said that maybe it is stress. I, however, do not think that is possible. If it was stress induced, I would have had my headaches every day incarcerated! Plus, my stressors today are nothing like the stressors of my past.

In a weird way, perhaps Carswell did me a favor. I was able to learn the imputus for my constant headaches and maybe, now, I will be able to find the exact cause. We never know what good can come out of bad. It may take me a while to find the exact cause, but I think I'm on the right track. In the meantime, I need to go take some aspirin and sleep off this headache.

Two Months Out

I left Carswell two months ago today. It feels like forever ago. I can't believe how fast I got acclimated to life on the outside. I'm lucky that I wasn't incarcerated very long and didn't have to get used to the fast changing world. I'd say I'm right back where I was with technology, my biggest difference from where I was before I was incarcerated is that I watch less television. However, Sporty was just given a 60" television, which gets put up on Wednesday, so that may change everything!!! I thought I would want to come home and catch up on all my missed shows, but I spend my time doing other things - walking SuperDog, volunteering, relaxing, reading, preparing to go back to school, taking short road trips, connecting with friends, working out, and eating way too much food! Maybe the food part is a bit too much like life before Carswell!!!

The good thing, though, is that I've done my best to keep active. I found that Comcast offers a lot of fitness videos for free. I have done many of them and enjoyed the variety of choices. I was missing the workouts I did at Carswell to Jillian Michaels for beginners, though. It consists of two dvd's - one is the frontside and one the backside, but I was physically able to do almost all the exercises and I loved the way I felt doing it. Freckles and I both stated that we would purchase the set and keep doing  the workouts as part of our routines.

Turns out that the workouts I was doing via Comcast fitness were good, but not as good. I finally purchased the Jillian Michaels videos and did the frontside yesterday and the backside today and let me tell you, I'm feeling it!! These last two months have not been good on my staying conditioned. I wear a fitbit flex and do what I can to reach 10,000 steps every day (many days I get to only 7,000 or so). I take Superdog on walks. I do the workouts on Comcast. However, nothing works me as hard as that Biggest Loser coach. So, I'm going to keep doing her workouts and I guess I'll carry that little bit of FMC Carswell with me into the future.

In other news, I am officially getting my car back from my parents. Since I will start earning some money in August, I will be taking back my car. It will be nice not having to depend on others all the time for rides. I was also re-approved for my handicap parking permit. While I am fully capable of getting around with traditional parking right now, in fact I chose to walk up and down two floors of stairs at school today, when the weather starts to turn, I will need to have a close parking spot. My body and icy sidewalks don't do well together. I will challenge myself to only use the permit when I need to, and to walk the distance when I am capable of doing so. I think Jillian Michaels and Freckles would approve of that decision.

I was talking with Survivor earlier today and I could only admit that I'm still amazed at how things are coming together in my life. It was so easy while in Carswell to only imagine the worst things happening. No one tells you that it is possible to have life turn out okay after incarceration. They only tell you how hard it will be. If you believe them, then inevitably, your life will be hard. We are able to  cause our own destruction by our negative thinking. We are also able to cause our own success by positive thoughts. We need more stories - more evidence - of what helps ex-prisoners find success after prison. I hope I can help find those characteristics that help people move forward through my research. Perhaps it will help build programs that can be alternatives to how prisoners are treated at the moment.

In the meantime, I suppose I will keep just moving forward and counting the days, weeks and months since my release. There's a strong part of me that knows I HAD to go through the FMC Carswell experience, so I can understand the value of everything in my life. I needed to go through it, so I could do something to make a difference for others. I needed the experience so I could continue to change myself. I'll be able to say that my crime did not and will not define my life. My incarceration did not and will not diminish my future.

My Friends Inside

There are rules. Serious rules. While on supervision, I cannot knowingly have contact with another felon. That means that I am not to write or contact any of the people I consider a friend who is still incarcerated, or who has a previous conviction (unless I get permission from my PO). Other than those GA folks I received approval for, it will be very difficult staying in touch with those I met on the inside.

I hate the idea that if I want to send a card or something to Freckles, Lola, or Taz, it is a violation of my supervision. Serious violations or repeat violations could land me right back in Carswell. Being as the authorities know of this blog (and may not be happy with all it's content) and know I'm the one maintaining it, I could be an easy target to punish. That, is definitely not something I want to have happen. I never want to be incarcerated again!

So, I have to trust that my friends know I'm thinking of them. Once in a while, I hear of updates, and I'll share some of those with you. For some of my former comrades, it could be years until we speak again. They are never far from my thoughts, however.

Lola LOVES Carswell Camp. Even the food is better on that side of the fence. They have a lot of freedom and the scenery and wildlife is wonderful to watch. Squirrels will literally come to your room's window and look at you until you exit your room with food. That's well trained wildlife! Plus, with Lola in the puppy program, she gets to spend her days with a happy puppy to hug and care for. How wonderful!

Freckles has had to go through a couple tough weeks at the end of her time at Carswell. The accusations that led to her termination from education went viral there, and she is the focus of a lot of gossip. Her birthday is this week, and I just pray our friends do right by her! She has three weeks to go - so ridiculous since she was supposed to get out of there two weeks ago.

Taz is working on a 2255 of her sentence. The 2255 is a basic appeal saying that your lawyer, the judge, or the sentence decision was a mistake. Many inmates file them, few make it to real consideration. Taz had a deal that turned out to be a lie and she never knew that they would pursue federal time for her. She has proof of conversations with promises that prosecutors would keep the case from going federal. She signed and then the federal charges came immediately after. So uncool!

By now, Nurse should have been transferred to Victorville. I pray they give her the protein supplements she never received at Carswell. I'm happy she can see her grand daughter again - that little girl is her pride and joy!

Mama's paperwork has gone through for a transfer closer to home. After losing nearly 150 pounds in less than a year, Mama is off 90% of her medication and all the docs cleared her for transfer. I pray that comes soon - as her sons are finally home with her parents and her family is so happy to be back together again, except for Mama.

I wish I were allowed to communicate with these and other friends. I truly care about their well-being. I guess I'll just keep them in my thoughts and look forward to the day that we can speak again. We've been through our worst together, I look forward to being able to share our best!

A Friend

Something that rarely happens to me occurred yesterday. I was out and about running errands and I ran into someone from my old school program. We were literally standing next to one another, so when we realized who the voice next to us was, we immediately hugged. She was several years ahead of me and working on her dissertation when I self-surrendered, so I had no idea what she did or didn't know about my situation. We were friendly before, and I just didn't see her being too judgmental. In fact, remember that I deleted nearly half my Facebook contacts a couple months ago? Well, she friended me back a month or so ago, so I figured she was okay with me. Turns out, she'd known about why I was gone, but she hadn't known about my being kicked out of the program. I suppose many of the students are not aware of what occurred after I left for Texas.

Anyway, she had read on Facebook that I was accepted into the criminal justice program, so she congratulated me. She then asked me a bunch of questions around what happened to my being in my old program. I told her that it wasn't my choice for leaving and she asked more questions about that. It wasn't a long conversation, we were in a store staring at a shelf of shoes after all, but she was curious and I would be too, so I answered best I could. As we left the store, neither of us buying any shoes, I told Sporty that I really like the person and I was glad to have seen her. 

Unexpectedly, today, I received a message from the friend. She apologized for "ambushing" me with questions. I didn't really feel ambushed, but she said that it must be a difficult issue and she shouldn't have asked so many questions. What a kind thing to do! Most people would ask personal questions and never think twice about it. At some point, this friend of mine thought over our conversation and felt strong enough to reach out to me. I really respect that! I've always had a lot of respect for her, but it's always when things are difficult that we know who our real friends are - or at least the people we want to be friends with...

I've had several relationships adjusted to be closer or further based on this past year. What has been most surprising to me is that the people I now consider to be my closest friends are not the ones I would have necessarily named a year ago. There are some incredible ones who I will always be close with, but others have not been the kind of friends I deserve.

Although, I sometimes know that I am not always a good friend to others. Over the past several years, I've been on the receiving side the majority of the time... Health issues and legal issues weigh heavy on friendships! I still feel as if I'm not always pulling my weight in my relationships.

While I was incarcerated, mail was my favorite thing. However, about half way into my time, I stopped corresponding back much. I became much more dependent on this blog as my writings to the outside world. Honestly, I stopped writing when things got to be the worst in there, someone I cared about went to the SHU and I started receiving threats. Even my job became at risk. Also, I realized I was being kicked out of school. There was nothing good to write about and no one wants to write one depressing letter after another, nor lie and say they are great when they are not. I really owe an apology to all those that were so good to me while I was at FMC Carswell, and I wasn't a good friend back.

I wish I could say that I'm doing better now, but I'm actually not. I started sending thank you cards to folks when I got home, but I haven't finished them yet. I was trying to call and catch up with people, but I barely talk to anyone outside my closest circle. 

I'm finding myself needing a lot more quiet time now, than I did before I was at Carswell. I spend hours doing almost nothing, not even watching tv. I meditate, relax, work out, and play mindless games on my phone. Instead of waiting for the bus this afternoon, I randomly decided to walk a couple miles - something I never would have done in the past - especially with the heat. Even at my volunteer work, I spend less time chatting with coworkers and more time focused on what I'm doing in my office.

I should be calling my friends when I get home, but I don't. I sit on the couch and relax. I take in the quiet. I take Superdog on a walk. Maybe I'm too independent with my time now. I need to make a much better effort at being a friend, though. So many people have given me the incredible gift of friendship. I need to pay those gifts forward. I don't know exactly what the effect of incarceration is that has made me be more distant from those I care about, but I am going to make a conscious effort to be a better friend. I need to learn from the act of kindness from the friend I bumped into yesterday and apologize to all my friends out there. Know I care about and love you. I'm here and it's time I become the giver for a while!