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!

8 Years

Mother's Day, 2016. This week marked my 8th anniversary of my "Devine intervention" - my last gamble, getting caught, coming clean with the people around me and myself, stopping my impending suicide, and beginning the path that would start my road to recovery. My life has certainly moved forward a long way, looking back I was in a place of believing myself "broken" and beyond repair. I was unlovable, never good enough, and undeserving of anything and everything in my life (these things I believed). I could not see past my own issues of addiction, shame, guilt, and fear to fully experience anything in my life.

Today, my life is full of wonder and awe. I live in confidence, love, honesty, openness, willingness, peace, and much more happiness. I am married and surrounded by young people. I give back to my community and do my best to do so without expectation of anything in return. I am forgiving. I seek forgiveness when necessary without expectation of forgiveness in return. I try to make healthy choices of mind, body, and spirit.

I make amends for my past in various ways both public and private. I speak openly as a felon and of my crime and those I hurt. I do not hide from my past, as perhaps I can help open minds and educate others. I take my recovery seriously and continue in my recovery knowing that no one is ever cured of addiction and that we must always be there for the new people who walk into our rooms. I give back by taking leadership through participation in Gambler's Anonymous intergroup and helping with area rooms and conferences. I make my monthly reports to my Probation Officer, showing that I have not gambled, have not done anything in violation of my supervision and that I am doing everything I can to ensure I would not find myself in the position to commit an addiction motivated crime again.

I rebuild relationships with those I hurt as much as I can. Any chance I see anyone in person, my openness, honesty, and willingness to speak and ask forgiveness is usually accepted. Those that have chosen to not forgive me, I will never give up trying to make amends to. I shall carry their names with me and if/when the time comes, I shall ask again. It will always be up to them.

I pay my restitution every month. Some months are harder than others to honestly meet the 10% of income threshold. We have 3 college students in our household and our finances are tight. It is a priority payment, though, and it is paid. It is something I do not just because I am told I must, but because it is a very real reminder of where just one gambling bet could take me. I do not have urges to gamble, but if I ever did, I just need to remember that I already have 10% of my income going out because of gambling, I certainly do not need more (besides violations of my supervision, etc.). I could not imagine anything taking me back to gambling, yet 95% of people who start recovery, do go back out. I guess I am fortunate to not have had a relapse (knock on wood). I surrendered to recovery and GA the minute I walked into the door. I knew I had a problem and wanted to find a way to stop. It was no longer fun - I just could not stop. GA gave me a way, as long as I was willing to sit and listen to those who stood in my shoes before me. Crazy to think I am now one of those people who helps the new person now.

Things have not been all roses. I have been sick for months. This academic semester brought with it the Norovirus and several additional infections over a period of time. I've had bronchitis for over 1 1/2 months. One thing seems to get better and the next hits me. My docs have me off all my meds for my chronic health issues in hopes that my body could fight off the infections, but it has not been helping, so my pain and fatigue levels have gone up. It's been very difficult and I was not able to finish my thesis this semester due to my health. I now have a goal of June. The stress of everything with fighting the school appeared to make it all a bit worst.

However, I am alive. I have a job I love. I am looking forward to classes that will challenge and enlighten me. I have an incredible family. I will get off supervision in 2016. I am loved. I am good enough. I deserve the good that happens in my life. What a difference 8 years makes!

I do want to put a shout out to all the Mom's in Carswell or incarcerated anywhere. I remember that day well. It is a very hard day for Mothers. Be good to your Mom today. Happy Mother's Day!

My First Real Criminal Justice Class

There are three areas that criminal justice programs tend to cover broadly - policing, courts, and incarceration. To say that I have a real personal insight into each one of those areas is an understatement. So much so far in this first three hour class focused on a system that conflicts between punishing wrongdoers and due process - yet there is so much grey area in the middle. Students didn't question that everyone is arrested before arraignment, yet I sat in there, an example of someone never technically arrested. The discussion in class was lively and I showed myself to be interested, inquisitive, cynical, flexible, and perhaps a bit annoying (who knows). Well, I hope not annoying - it was the first day of the class.

At one point in the class, we all had to sign up to work together in teams of four on issues. Initially I signed up on the restorative justice team, since I am a trained facilitator. However, six of us signed up and we had to limit each group to four. The professor said something about "flipping a coin," and I said that "I don't gamble," to the whole class which made people laugh. If they only knew that my gambling led me to the criminal justice system they so desperately want to work within. In GA the main book (yellow book) it includes that we cannot "flip a coin," so that's why I ended up just saying that I'd volunteer to go to another team. Now I'm on the Sentencing Guidelines team... Yep, I know a bit about that too. I'll be looking at it all from a federal point of view - I think that will be my specialty. Seems, so far, most everyone I meet, works on the state level.  One Prof already told me it is hard to get fed data - that should surprise nobody!!!

I do not have another class until next Wednesday due to the holiday, so I have time to get my hands on some textbooks, start assignments, and get back in the groove. In the meantime, it's a four day weekend for me. Not sure I've been working enough to earn a Labor Day, so I promise to keep myself busy!

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!

Slab of Concrete

Sporty, T.S. and I live in a townhome that is very affordable and offers us ample room for all our things. It's fairly quiet and close enough to a couple shops and restaurants that we don't have to jump in a car when we need something small.

The drawback, though, is that it is a typical 1970's townhome with no upgrades. Imagine brown paneling  kitchen cabinets, incredibly squeaky floors, and very old appliances. We also often find that things are not holding up very well anymore. There's a portion of our floor that seems to be coming up, a large chunk of concrete missing from our stairs at the front stoop, and chips in both our bathroom sink counters. 

It is what it is, though. I don't mind the slight imperfections. I'm so grateful to have a home - with heat and air conditioning, my own room, my Superdog, and a washer, dryer, and dish washer. I don't need even all of this, I've heard of ex-offenders sleeping on the floor at someone's home, or even homeless, so you will never read a complaint from me.

I do worry about safety though. This morning, I opened the front door to let Superdog do her business, and the concrete slab that is part of our doorway literally fell right off.

It made a huge crashing sound as it fell. Superdog took little notice, but I was about to step there and I definitely took notice. The slab is too heavy for me to move, so it sits there on our front stoop, waiting to be tripped over, carried off, or just avoided. I wonder how long it will take this complex to fix it. 

I suppose these are the problems of the real world. They are so small compared to the realities of life in prison. There, a slab of concrete on the ground is a potential weapon. The doorway wouldn't be fixed for quite a while, but some make-shift thing would be set up for wheelchairs and walkers, or we would just have to avoid the door until it was fixed. Gossip about how the slab of concrete broke would find it's way around the entire compound until the most elaborate set of lies about someone doing something they shouldn't becomes the story everyone believes. Life is so simple on the outside - the slab of concrete fell off the doorway. Period.

The good news is that we will be moving into a rental home in about six months. A friend is moving and we will be renting her three bedroom home. It's not new construction, I'm sure we will do some fixing up at times, but it has the cutest porch and swing. It has a fenced in yard for Superdog. It has plenty of space to park my new scooter, when I choose it, and the storage in the basement is awesome. We plan to live there until I graduate... In other words, quite a few years! While I am in no position to purchase a home, this will be the best next thing.

Also, it doesn't have brown paneled cabinets, old appliances, or very squeaky floors - just a squeak now and then. It will be made into a real home. Even better, there's no cement slabs on the doorways to fall off. Something to look forward to.

They Lied to Me

I guess I knew it at the time, but I tend to take things at face value. It never made sense how I was first told I was transferring to the Carswell Camp, then told nothing ever had been processed, then told I would be transferred again, and then told I was denied the transfer to the camp due to my enbrel medication. At some point, the frustration just gets to be too much, and you just stop asking questions like, "why?" When you do ask, they don't usually give you a real answer.

It was in a letter I received from someone who went to the camp that I learned there are people there on my same medication and on my same dosage. Not only that, they are going to start my friend on Humira (same type of injection as mine) and she gets to stay at the Carswell Camp. In other words, there is ABSOLUTELY NO REASON, I could not have transferred to the camp.

I was lied to, but so are so many others. People are so lazy there and they are constantly making up new policies. Catch the wrong person on the wrong day, and you are put on the back burner, while others with similar situations get listened to. Problem is, you never know who is the wrong person on any given day.

It has taken Nurse nearly a full year to get her transfer to Victorville, even though she was supposed to go before the 2013 holidays. Freckles had to watch all her RDAP buddies leave, while she had to wait an extra month with no real explanation. People's surgeries are promised to them, but years later they are still being told it will happen. Bandana has been waiting for necessary shoulder surgery for over four years. Taz has to wait five years for dentures because the marshals lost hers when she was transferred to Carswell. Five years without most of her teeth. Really?

For me, I accepted that I would not leave FMC Carswell for the camp. I figured there must have been some reason I wasn't meant to transfer. With my shorter sentence, I was okay staying put with most of my friends.

What I do know, now, though is that the Caswell Camp is way better than the medical center. I've learned that the food is better, visitation is better, jobs are better, the dog program is great, you can enjoy the lake view, the rec is pretty awesome, and they have high quality hobby craft classes. Also, the staff is way more laid back and inmates feel like people, only the puppies are treated like animals (and even they get respect).

I suppose if I knew then what I know now, I would have fought the denial. I can't say it would have done me any good. The medical team refused my transfer without ever meeting me. I guess I was just someone who's paperwork found the wrong person on the wrong day - result "transfer to camp denied."

Was Prison What You Expected?

I get the question often, how did my prison experience match up with my preconceived thoughts of what the experience would be like? My answer: entirely different and worse.

My fears had me believing I'd be in a traditional cell with bars for a door and a toilet in the corner. That would have been horribly hard. So, I guess I'd say the prison environment was far better than my psyche had me prepared for. It was the emotional, mental, and physical toll that I hadn't imagined would be as difficult. It was the sights of seeing people suffering, the red tape no one could get through, the rudeness, the fights, the feeling of being treated like an animal - those are the things that made my experience worse than I expected.

The bonding I experienced with other inmates was nearly almost always started by the sharing of empathy about the outrageous ways we were treated and/or ignored. Perhaps it was a conversation about waiting for a full day to see a doctor, and never getting seen. Or, maybe, it was the fact that someone's roommate was threatening them. Maybe it was the experience of getting in trouble for something no one told you was wrong because only this C.O. has that rule. Maybe we bond over the fact that we have no table or chairs to sit in because they don't have enough for us all, or that someone stole something important to you. We sometimes first connected in a long email or chow line resulting in a half hour long conversation before finally getting access. Or for those in the pill line, a two hour conversation. We all bonded over our mutual unacceptable realities and our powerlessness to do anything about it. After all, we were the ones in khaki.

I guess in reality, I didn't have a clue of what to really expect at FMC Carswell. It's unique from all the other prisons. So many of us should have been in minimum security, but we were punished for having health concerns. Before I went, I had read about hospital style rooms. Those do exist, but only for the sickest. Our housing was like any cell block on most prison television shows - large, two floors, open atrium, loud, dirty, and overcrowded.

All that research I'd done prior to my self-surrender, and I didn't have that image in my head. I didn't have the image of how the CO's would treat us. I didn't have a real image of commissary, chow, or count time. I guess the truth is, until you experience it, there is no way to know what it will be like. The best preparation we can do is accept the unacceptable, be flexible, release control, and ensure we have safe and healthy outlets for the inevitable stress.

I guess I write this because if you are going to self-surrender, you need to get out of your head everything you think prison will be. Just prepare mentally and emotionally that you are walking into an unknown and you will learn to adapt to it. You will also bond with others facing similar circumstances and together you will support each other through the experience. It will be okay.

Supervision

It has been over a week since I met with my PO and I haven't heard from him, he has not stopped by, and I don't (yet) feel any strings pulling me (imagine a puppet). With the restraints of the past year, I feared supervision still resulting in the feeling of being contained. Instead, I feel remarkably free.

My only limit that I really feel so far, is the inability to travel out of state. Truth is, though, finances won't allow me to travel anyway. Without my scooter, I don't even have a current method of transportation. I'm taking public buses to/from campus everyday for my no-pay job. Luckily, I have a lot of quarters. So, my travel consists of where the local buses can take me and I'm comfortable with that fact.

Actually, there is one drawback. The 2pm bus I take home from campus everyday is the last trip before leaving work for the bus driver, so, he drives like a maniac! He swerves, he hits curbs, he drives in the middle of the street... I actually got motion sickness the other day and had to wear those motion sickness arm bands on his bus trip the next day. Luckily, today was his day off, so my ride went smooth and the geeky arm bands stayed in my satchel.

The bus stop is a couple minute walk from my home. Last year, when I was so sick, I wouldn't have been able to walk it. Now, I enjoy every bit of the walk - especially with the nice weather (although I understand the weather down at Carswell is so hot that they are closing the compound... It's never good to keep the inmates all cooped up for too long...). 

I imagine sometime soon, I will see my PO at work or home, or perhaps he will call. I'll be able to tell him about my application into the university, loving being back at my job, and that my goal is to be officially hired and start earning wages on August 15th. 

In the meantime, life is about trying to not spend money (never easy), keep my health up, stay grateful, and keep moving forward while I never forget the people I care about. I won't throw people away that matter. As long as I know I'm doing the next right thing!

I'm going to get to some of those questions a few of you wrote to me after the friend update very soon. I want to spend some time on them. I was also asked to be a guest blogger on someone else's prison related blog. I've never done that before, so I'm trying to work on the right topic. I never run out of things to write, but as all this blog's readers can attest to, some blog posts are better than others!!

I am not going to tell my PO at the present time about the fact that I'm starting to write a book - well, actually working on three books. One has been within me for many, many years, but I didn't know how to end it until now. Another has grown out of my recent experiences. The third is the book I wish I had to prepare myself for self-surrender. I have a lot of dreams and goals in my life, and now I'm embarking on one I've had for more than 20 years - to write a book that sells! I believe I have it in me.

Anyway, this post has certainly swayed around topics quite a bit, but the most important item I'm sharing is that being on "paper," "street time," "probation," "supervision," (whatever you choose to call it), isn't so bad. You no longer have someone pulling all your strings and controlling all your movements. You have choices and as long as you choose healthy, legal things, you will do just fine!

Keep your fingers crossed that the bus driver has tomorrow (oops, after midnight... today) off as well!!!

Hyper Sensitivity

Tonight someone asked me about the day I left Carswell. They wanted to hear how I felt, not just what I did. It's always so much easier to just go through the motions of the day, rather than how it all felt. At first, I said, "anxious," but that's not really the right thing. The closest I could get was, "hyper sensitive."

On the day you walk out of prison and into the rest of the world, everything is suddenly new once again. You get so used to the limitations and realities of life incarcerated, that you don't realize how insane everything is. There are bright colors everywhere. Signs advertising everything. Music. People on cell phone walking and not paying attention. People annoyed being in a short line. Space that has no specific purpose. Artwork. All kind of haircuts. Children. Laughter. Polite security people. Routines. Smiles. People who say, "excuse me," and, "thank you." Rude folks that bump into you. Smells ruminating from restaurants. The smell of McDonald's fries. People running places. Laptops. Pay phones. Calling cards. Cash. Empty chairs. Strangers. All kinds of shoes. Moving sidewalks. 

There's so much and it's all at the same time. Nothing happens fast at Carswell, but everything happens fast in the real world. Strangers talk to you. People sitting next to you are interested in what you are reading. You appear to be the only person without a cell phone, and everyone else's face is buried in theirs. I noticed it all. I tried to capture moments in my writing. There is so much we take for granted on the outside. I don't want to take anything or anyone for granted.

I'll keep thinking about the best words to describe that day, but for now hyper sensitive works for me. I noticed the little things that we usually stop noticing. After prison, tattoos are normal and dressing up is not. Pen and paper is normal and texting is not. A cafeteria is normal and a restaurant is not. A see through bag is normal and luggage is not. Grey and khaki are normal, red and black are not.

I'm home long enough now that I'm starting to get used to everything once again. T.S. did not want me to bring my cell phone with me to watch softball tonight, since I'm constantly using it. I left the phone at home. I'm back to posting nearly everyday on Facebook. I'm driving and not always paying attention to the constant advertisements in my face. I'm back to enjoying working with data and evaluation tools (total geek). 

I'm still quite aware, though. I walk a lot more, even if I don't have to. I try to make sure I thank people properly for everything. I'm more sensitive to the costs of things. I try to avoid khaki. I care about how I look a lot more. I tell those I care about that I love them every time I say goodbye. I still read my Peace a Day at a Time book every night before bed. I care less about what people think of me and have a lot more gusto to go after my goals. I say prayers for my friends still locked up and hope they will get opportunities to experience the hyper sensitivity soon as well.

At no point did I feel excited or particularly happy on the day I left Carswell. The minute Red was put in a cell, I felt the crushing reality of still being in BOP custody. Anything could happen to any of us at any time. I was at peace, though. I knew that I was walking out of the fences and cinder block walls for good. I was one step closer to freedom!

Healthy Goals

I think it's really important that we not only set goals around work when we are released, but we also set goals that will keep us healthy in mind and spirit. For me, that means trying to remain active and continue to lose weight. Even maintaining my weight loss would be a plus.

While I was in prison, it appears activity trackers became very popular. I was curious and put out on Facebook which ones were recommended. I keep a wish list for holidays, etc., and I was putting the recommendation on there. One of my incredibly generous friends had a different idea and yesterday I received a fitbit flex in the mail. Wow!

Now I can track my activities, steps, calories, sleep, and more! How wonderful!

So, here's the irony of it all... I am free, but I choose to have a device that tracks me and everything I do. I've never been handcuffed, yet I choose to wear a tightish "cuff" around my wrist. While I am no longer counted in my bed three times a night by security, now every time I roll over is being counted. I went from having to be monitored to choosing to be monitored. Ah, what is this world coming to?

I have to say, though, I already love my new fitbit flex. Yesterday, it motivated me to add in one more exercise video to my evening and I went for a short walk. I learned that I rolled over in my sleep 19 times (not to good at resting) and it offered me a silent way of waking by vibrating my wrist. I'm already excited to see how many steps a full day includes and if it will warn me that I've been too lazy when I spend my day at a computer. 

I know there are all kinds of ways to keep healthy. I'm not doing it all perfectly. However, something tells me that this little monitoring device might help me reach my goals and have fun doing so.

Friend Updates

I thought you may want some updates on some of my FMC Carswell friends. I'll start with Freckles. If you remember, Freckles was to finish RDAP and move to a halfway house by July 8th. She did graduate last week - yay!!!!! However, she finally received her HWH date and she isn't leaving until mid August. Another casualty of paperwork not being processed on time. She's keeping positive as always, but it's been a tough couple weeks. Like with what happened with me, somehow Freckle's name was put in the middle of some untrue gossip and it led to her dismissal from the department of education. She's an amazing tutor and it's sad that people can make stuff up and get people in trouble based solely on gossip. It gives her time to relax her last month there, so I guess not all is lost - and I know she will continue to tutor folks for free if they need it.

South, yes, I know, you haven't heard about South in a long time. Well, she's doing alright. Somehow, when she left Carswell, she learned that she had an additional six months home confinement. It is crazy that this was not known prior to her incarceration. She never should have been in prison, and now she continues to be under BOP custody. It ends in August. She's doing well, though. She is much healthier now that she has all her medications and can see her doctors.

Lola is doing well at the Carswell Camp. Her husband also made it through his heart surgery alright and is going back to work this week. Lola does not have as good a job at the camp, than she did at the FCI, but it's much more relaxed and she seems good.

Taz is seeking pen pals. She still has a couple years to go and she likes writing with folks. I imagine it would be hard doing time with no outside support or funds. She is also facing some unknown health issues and they say she needs immediate treatment, but have not yet told her for what...

Red is at home, working, and being a mom to her three kids. It took her about a month to find a job, but she was persistent and she did it! She plans to start classes at the state college and has many dreams and goals. I have no doubt she will reach them!

Mama is still trying to get transferred closer to home. The paperwork has been filed, so now it's a waiting game. Her parents are still fighting for custody of Mama's sons, whose father refused to return after a scheduled visitation many months ago. The judge seems to be on Mama's side and even the father seems to realize that raising two boys under 7 years old is a lot of work. Since he took the boys, Mama has not spoken with them once and she prays to hear their little voices again soon!

Danbury is not listed in the state incarceration database where she was fairly sure she would be after her release. I pray that means that she is home, close to her kids and her mom, and moving forward with her life. Somehow I believe our paths will cross at some point in the future.

It's important to never forget that there are decent people who are incarcerated. Most did commit a crime, but many are punished far beyond what would be reasonable - especially the women who find themselves at FMC Carswell. I'll do my best to make updates when I can.

I've written a lot over the last year, and once in a while I receive emails from folks asking me questions. I was thinking, I need to put it out to everyone. Do you have any questions you want me to answer or issues you want me to write about? You can leave a comment/ question anonymously (or not) at the end of this post. Also, if you have any particular favorite posts from this blog, I'd love to know which you have enjoyed or found insightful. Let's make this post a bit more interactive and I look forward to answering your questions and getting your ideas and favorites!

School Update

Last week, I had the opportunity to meet with a professor of criminal justice at my school. We talked about the possibility of my joining the department this fall. On Thursday, I received an email inviting me to apply, even though the official deadline was at the beginning of the year. He'd already talked with other faculty, and they will consider my late application due to extenuating circumstances.

However, initially, if admitted, I would not be a doctoral student, but a master's student in criminal justice. They only accept five doctoral students per year, and their incoming cohort was selected in December. The professor I met with came up with the idea of my applying to the master's program, taking doctoral level courses for this year, and applying into the doctoral program this fall, for fall 2015. Meanwhile, my first year courses would transfer into the doctoral program, so I won't be another year behind. I can also transfer in my credits from many of my education courses as electives.

I know what many may be thinking, why am I considering this switch from education to criminal justice? No answer is easy, but let me start with my past. When I attended law school, I knew I'd never want to practice criminal law - the system is just too flawed. Innocent people are locked up, guilty people go free, racial disparities are huge, and money buys freedom. I could never see myself advocating to find a loophole allowing a rapist to go free or prosecuting a person who I know will spend more time in prison just because of the color of his skin. Instead, I focused more on civil areas of law - employment and family law. 

I did assist a criminal law professor on an interesting research project. We looked at racial disparities for sentencing on similar amounts of crack cocaine. The findings were very telling of the racism within the judicial system. I also did a bit of criminal law research when I was working with an appellate level judge. Other than my own case, the only criminal law cases I ever stepped in a courtroom for was a teen's petty theft (friend's son) and a few traffic violations. 

In the early 2000's, I taught for six years at a college part-time. I mostly taught courses related to business law or for paralegals. However, I was asked to teach a couple criminal justice courses (intro to criminal justice and criminal law). While I never wanted to practice criminal law, I really enjoyed teaching it to college students considering a career in law enforcement. Maybe I could help them understand the ethics behind the choices they will make on the job.

Fast forward to my life over the past year, and I witnessed first hand how flawed our justice system continues to be. From the fact that people are threatened to take plea deals for far more than anything they actually did, to the treatment of inmates in prison, I knew that my future would somehow include connecting my passion for education and the need to advocate change within the criminal justice system. There needs to be more alternatives to imprisonment, and more programs to help people become healthy in mind, body, and spirit while paying the consequences of their prior actions. I want to be a part of the solution... I've always believed that you should never complain unless you are willing to try and change the situation. For me, I want to ensure that people, especially women, have a more humane experience through our criminal justice system. I, also, believe that education, as a preventive medium, as well as a way to combat recidivism is a way to bring my varied interests together.

So, over the next week, I will complete the application process. I struggled to identify my three references, but even though I am not asking anyone from my former department, I was able to ask three wonderful professionals, including two faculty I've worked with, who are more than happy to give me positive and supportive letters, despite their knowledge of my past. 

No matter how many may try to shame you, there are good people in this world that can see you for the person you are. Just keep doing the next right thing. Never give up on your dreams. You have to maintain hope.

I don't know if I will ultimately be accepted into my university's criminal justice program, but applying and putting my best self forward is the only way to find out. I know the Director of the department liked me (in fact, he wants to hire me on the side to tutor his son in algebra based on my sharing what my job was in prison!). No matter what, though, I found another open door (so far many more open doors than closed doors), and being open-minded, honest, and willing are taking me one step closer to getting back in school.

Independence Day

Officially, this is my 319th day from my self-surrender. The holiday and one day credit from the day of my arraignment, allowed my release day to be two days ago. It's officially Independence Day.

I thought I'd be more excited to celebrate this year, since I am no longer in BOP custody. Instead, I am thinking of my friends, locked behind the Carswell fence, and far from freedom. It always pissed me off a bit, at 8am every morning, hearing the Star-Spangled Banner playing out of the base speakers. Is this really the land of the free? I truly believe some people should be in prison, but I sit here and think about a friend, already inside for eight years, away from her three sons, for a conspiracy drug charge. She wasn't the ring leader, but mandatory minimums resulted in her kids growing up without a mother. I'm not an advocate for the legalization of drugs, I'm actually quite conservative when it comes  to issues around drugs, but I don't like how we criminalize it either. 

The drug industry exists for several reasons- one is addiction, and we shouldn't be criminalizing addiction. The other is because the demand in the U.S. outweighs the supply available. Drugs make money and we live in a capitalistic society. In some communities, the drug trade is the only answer out of poverty. It's a very sad reality, but true. My PO made it clear that I was a rare client - someone without a history of significant drug use.

I took a short break between writing the above and now writing... We drove to a parking lot in our town, parked, and we look up and there's fireworks going off in every direction I look, including straight up. This is a strange city for 4th of July. Instead of one big fireworks show, there are about 4-5 going off in every direction. It's like chaos in the sky. Plus, it's a state that allows people to do their own fireworks, so there are people setting off their own fireworks, too. We were driving down a main thoroughfare and a group set off a huge firework right in the middle of the center lane (three lane one-way road leading directly to downtown). Ummm, really???

As a kid, I was the child, under a bunch of blankets, crying at the noise set off by fireworks. I still don't enjoy the noise, but now it's like any other annoyingly loud noise. I do enjoy the beauty, though. I really love fireworks displays set off to music - those take my breath away. There's nothing like that here.

One cool thing I see in the sky, are these Chinese type lanterns with candles flying up into the clouds. I think they are selling them across the street. 

Okay, you can't really tell what that is, but it's a lantern flying up in the sky. I am imagining it to be a wish lantern and if it is, I hope thier wish comes true!

Once the official show started tonight, it was full of color. It reminds me of the night that Lola and I watched random fireworks above the FMC Carswell rec center. I think they are allowing the women to stay out an extra hour tonight and watch the fireworks set off by the military base. I know that just when the fireworks are getting good, it will be inmate recall and a big sigh will communally connect everyone for just a moment.

Here are some pics from tonight's fireworks:

Now, at 11pm, I am out at Denny's with Sporty, T.S., and T.S.' younger sister Hype (9 yrs old), and Hype's niece Minnie (2 1/2 yrs old). T.S. and Hype share a father and Hype's other sister is the mother of Minnie. Okay, no reason to go into their full family dynamics. What matters is that we don't define family entirely by blood, but by love. Anyway, we are at Denny's and they have a $2 menu, which is right up my alley. 

$2 pancakes at Denny's

I really didn't want to be eating after 8pm when I got home, but that hasn't worked so well. I'll have to work on it.

So, it wasn't a bad Independence Day. The fact that I'm out past eleven is what independence allows. In the end I had a good day. I'm thinking of my friends who are not so free, and also grateful that being incarcerated is behind me.

Happy Independence Day to all celebrating!

A Daughter Writes

Many months ago, I wrote about a daughter who reached out to me about her mother who had just self-surrendered. They were readers of this blog and the daughter was worried about how her mom was doing. It took me a couple days, but I figured out who her mom was (she had the wash time just before mine) and I introduced myself. Turns out, she had Danbury's old bunk. Later, when I was moved upstairs, we were neighbors. Small world.

This past week, the world became even smaller for another reader of this blog. Once again, it was her daughter that reached out to me. She and her mom read this blog and she told me it helped them prepare for her mom's self-surrender. My heart sang when I read that. Well, she informs me that her mom was placed in MY old bunk. Out of 1800+ bunks in the facility, this new woman is given my bed!!

The daughter wrote me because her mom is having a difficult time adjusting. It was her first week there, and we all go through that. Here's a bit of what I answered:

"The advice I would give her includes:

1) make a couple friends - safe to usually start with other self surrenders, or people transferred there from a camp. They are also non violent and have many of the same issues dealing with medical. 

Tell her that she does not need to buy everything immediately and what she does buy, is for her only. Young folks and broke folks seek newbies to try and claim they are broke or hungry and take advantage of folks - especially older folks.

Keep her income no more than $300/mth. That way her frp will stay under $50. Tell her to transfer funds she isn't immediately using onto the phone, corlinks, and into her out account for saving. She can transfer corlinks and money in her out account back to her commissary account when she needs it. 

She should buy a radio, but the mp3 just sucks money... Go with the cheapest radio. Most often it's used for watching tv and the basic one actually has the best reception.

If your mom can physically, she should try to walk the track every day for some activity and stress relief. There's a wonderful woman who teaches yoga in the rec. The rec center has a lot of craft classes, too. Most important is finding things to stay busy.

Since your mom is still in her orientation period, she will hear about "sex" and std's a lot. They try to scare folks from being "gay for the stay." It will calm down when she's past her first two weeks.

Her room is her safest place, and unit 1 North is the safest regular housing unit; so hanging out in the atrium is fine. She will meet others by going and sitting with folks watching tv."

I, also, gave some names of friends there for her to seek out for friendship and advice. Those first weeks are the toughest. We are not yet gone long enough to have acclimated to such a different life. Medically, we are neglected as we fight for our medications, stand in the awful pill line, and wait hours/days to be seen in the clinic. From the very start, we try to do whatever we can to get medically cleared and transferred to a camp. Most wait over 6 months to be cleared and another several months for transfer approval. 

The entire experience can be very draining physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Plus we are given the horrible advice of not to cry. So, we try to hold in all our overwhelming emotions. It's truly a recipe for disaster. At some point, most of us break, and we have a good cry. Acceptance comes after that.

Getting to acceptance is really key to getting out of that initial funk. Those of us who self-surrender usually do not have more than months to several years on the inside. Living one day at a time, being your own advocate, trying to keep yourself as healthy as possibly, and keeping busy, will make the time pass.

It's hard in there, but you do not have to become "hard" to endure it. A good cry with friends will help relieve tension. Check out books and get lost in their stories. Write family and friends. Visit religious services, if you seek spiritual connection. Sign up for ACE classes. Take a daily walk. Make an appointment to visit the salon (Cosmo school). Sign up for hobby craft classes. Play games in the rec. Watch sports or join in at outdoor rec. Find employment. There are options to keep your days busy. The best thing is that days end early - 9pm rack up time. So, once dinner is over, you are nearly at the end of the day and you are one day closer to going home.

For those on the outside, send lots of cards/mail/books. A nice journal from Amazon is a great gift. Send crossword or word seek magazines. Subscribe your loved one to their favorite magazines - people, us, cosmo, newsweek, entertainment weekly, reader's digest, tv guide, even the national enquirer are commonly seen at mail call. Letting your incarcerated loved one know that they are loved and cared about is incredibly important. Remember, you are going through this experience too, even though you are not incarcerated.

Everyone adjusts at different amounts of time. For some it's weeks, others months. Sometimes our medical condition makes adjustment very difficult; sometimes there are family issues on the outside that make it hard. Remember that no one can solve all their problems at once, so try to tackle just one thing at a time.

One day, you will be walking the compound and you'll realize that you are halfway through your sentence, that you are able to smile and laugh, that you have incredible friendships, and that you are stronger than you realized. It may be a brief moment, but it will happen. Try to make a list of things you are grateful for at the end of each day. In the morning, read that list before you start your day. You will survive this experience!

I hope the woman who sleeps on my old bunk feels some positive energy left by me. I pray she finds some comfort and that people are kind to her. I hope her medical issues are adequately addressed and she finds healthy ways to deal with the bureaucracy.  While each day feels like a week, each week a month, each month a year, when you look back, you will realize those days, weeks, and months add up and, soon, you will be planning for home.

Thank you to the daughters who love their moms enough to help them through this experience. It is not easy on anyone, but knowing that someone cares enough to reach out for you usually goes on top of that daily grateful list!

Recovering Hope

When I was deciding which university to attend for my doctoral program, I was very specific about the location. I did not want an urban campus. I did not want to have to live too far away from campus. I wanted to ensure that I could use a fun and cute motor scooter as my transportation to/from campus on warmer days. Before I selected my campus, I'd selected my preferred transportation.

The school I selected was definitely the right fit in many ways. It, also, was the perfect school to ride around on a motor scooter. Within a month of moving to the area about 6 miles from campus, I went in search of my future scooter. I was thinking Vespa. They are just so darn cute!!

Instead, next to the Vespas in the showroom were two smaller, less expensive, scooters bearing the name Schwinn. One was tan and white, the other pink and white. The pink one was called a "hope 50." I fell in love. Not only was she the cutest scooter in the shop, but a percentage of her sale would be donated to breast cancer research. She was also a bit closer to the ground - and at 5' tall, I liked the fact that my toes on both of my feet could touch the ground at the same time. We were meant to be together. 

After spending a couple days looking up reviews to ensure I wasn't investing in a lemon, I proudly purchased my scooter. I rode around town with my 50cc bike, knowing I was allowed to park at bike racks, and getting over 100 miles to the gallon. Over winter, I would store her. I treated her well, and she treated me well - always making it to the gas pump just before officially running out.

It was the day I brought the scooter home, that I realized I would name her Hope. I don't usually name my vehicles, or give them a personality, but there was something special about this scooter. I was embarking on a new life and that is when I not only named my scooter Hope, but the word hope became my mantra.

Two years ago, in Vietnam, I purchased the perfect pink helmet with white stars on the sides. Scooters are the primary transportation to the families in Vietnam, and they sold really cool accessories. I would not leave the country without a helmet - which cost me the equivalent of about $8 U.S.

While I was in Texas, Joy stored Hope for me in her garage. I knew I'd be coming home to my cute bike and once off home confinement, I'd be able to don my helmet and take her for a nice ride. Just two days ago, I told someone that the first thing I would do Wednesday, is take Hope for a spin. Sporty picked her up from Joy a couple weeks ago, and she is parked on the sidewalk just outside our door.

So, you can imagine my reaction at 12:00pm today, when Sporty announced, "Hope is gone!" I thought she was playing with me. I went to the door, and she really was gone. She'd been stolen. She was locked to the side, so she was either lifted by very strong people or they jacked the ignition and broke the handlebar lock. Didn't matter though. Someone had my bike.

Immediately, I called the police and my insurance company. I had made sure I had comprehensive coverage for Hope, so she was covered in case of loss. The cop was very nice who came to take the report. I said that since I was having "police interaction," I needed to inform him that I was on home confinement. He didn't even blink and said, "no worries."

The officer told me that scooters are constantly stolen and they usually turn up - minus some parts. A bike like mine, though, he was sure would turn up, because it was one of a kind in this area. Plus, if they were wearing the pink Vietnamese helmet, that would be a definite sign. After dealing with the officer and my insurance company, I just sat and felt defeated. 

It was an hour later when I got the call that Hope had been recovered. Actually, she was recovered prior to my police report. Here's the details:

Hope Update: a male was seen by police riding a pink and white motor scooter at 3am. He dropped the bike and ran. The police thought it odd to see a tall male riding a short pink scooter. The scooter, proudly named "Hope" was brought to an impound lot. Hope's ignition and front cover are busted. Her Vietnamese helmet was still intact in the seat. She could not be started. A small scooter shop picked her up and she will be in the scooter hospital, awaiting State Farm examiners to appraise her condition. The owner looks forward to once again riding the streets of her town with Hope in the near future.

I guess there's irony here, I mean here I am a felon and I'm feeling the victim of a crime- a petty theft in reality. Life is not all black and white- there's so much grey in the middle. The guy riding my bike was not caught - he'd dropped my scooter to the road and ran from the scene. I won't know why he stole it. Is he part of a group that sells parts? Was he doing a prank? Did he need to money he'd earn to feed his kids? Was he just a kid? Did he have help? Where was he taking her? 

I'll never have all the answers. I'm just glad to know that hope has been recovered. I'm not sure if the insurance company will deem her too expensive to fix, and instead total her. I know electrically she can be fixed, but the damage to her body is extensive - especially the front hood, by the gas cap, and the side of the bike that went down in the road.

I guess it doesn't matter. I don't need this specific scooter to give me the hope I have. She brought the word into my life, and now it's my duty to keep restoring hope. Even feeling the violation of my favorite object being stolen and perhaps gone from my life forever, could not take away my hope. If I've learned anything over the last six years, it's that people matter so much more than objects. They can be replaced.

Blogging

This morning I decided to go through my email to see what messages I received while I was incarcerated. I had no idea that I'd received so many emails and comments! Thank you for all your support and for reading this whirlwind of thoughts and observations.

I don't know why it took me so long to read through all the comments. Well, I guess I do. I was not looking forward to reading more comments like from the blog entry about heroes falling I read when I first got out a couple weeks ago. Truth is, that's the only entry that had such hateful and judgmental comments. I feel so much joy, now, knowing that others have found my blog insightful, helpful, and interesting. Writing it has made this whole last year have direction and purpose.

I'm not going to say that I particularly like all the blog entries or that I'm a great writer. However, the ability to reflect openly about experiences is incredibly healing. I had a childhood that was about secrets and hiding. It took recovery for me to realize that all the secrets caused me to become emotionally stunted. Having a blog like this is quite the opposite, I can share the good, the bad, and the ugly. We say in the program, "we are only as sick as our secrets," and I thank god every day that I no longer harbor secrets and the fear of truth.

As time goes forward with this blog, I will share more about the life struggles that led to my addiction and crime. Perhaps a reader will identify with some of the experiences and they will be able to get the help they need before finding themselves at the brink of suicide and self-hatred. The focus of this blog though, will remain on the present and my life now that I have a large "F" for felon symbolically written across my forehead.

Please know that now that I'm home, I welcome comments and questions on this blog or through the link to email me (contact link on right panel). I will do my best to respond to any questions as soon as possible. Also, please feel free to suggest topics you'd like to see appear here. I'm never really at a loss of things to write about, but I want to ensure this blog stays interesting to the readers.

I am so blessed that so many people have found this blog and choose to keep coming back. There are readers from literally around the world - Europe, Asia, South America, etc. When I was leaving to self-surrender, Cache and I were so excited that I had nearly 5,000 hits on this site. Now, we are nearing 50,000. 

So, thank you to all of you! You've helped me through a difficult life experience and given me the strength to keep my hopes alive. I can not imagine life without writing, so you are all stuck with me for the long haul!

Never Forget

A lot of people make an active choice to try to forget their time in prison. They are so emotionally wounded from the experience that they prefer to not talk about it, stay away from media that would remind them of it, and put their experience as far away from their thoughts as they can. I get it. Why relive a nightmare over and over again? We need to live in the present, not the past. I really do understand.

I make a different choice, however. I choose to never forget. It would be so easy to enjoy the comforts of home, ignoring that so many are still there struggling... Ignoring the fact that we have a broken justice system (not that it ever worked "right"). I can't do that, though. I believe that I'm meant to have every experience I have, in order to use that knowledge for good, for change, for helping others. I went to prison to pay for my wrongdoings, but I also went to be a voice for prison reform. I witnessed far too many things that were horribly wrong, for me to sit back and do nothing.

Things have gotten even worse at Carswell since I've been home. The prison is so overcrowded, that they turned a unit TV room into another bus stop, housing a dozen more people. People are packed in like sardines, and the failure to provide a safe environment becomes impossible. My unit that once had about 250 people, now houses 310. Sixty more people, yet the resources are not expanded to accommodate them. 

Friends are still there who are past their community program dates. Even Freckles, who is two weeks from her promised HWH date, has no confirmation or travel arrangements. Others are still being forced to max out, like My Bunkie who should have been processed for community programs back in December. She doesn't even have any medical issues!

Fights and drug smuggling/dealing have increased in number, and people are being released from the SHU early, because there are not enough beds to house everyone. Laundry doesn't have enough uniforms or pillows to accommodate newbies, so they don't get their few items guaranteed by the prison. People are serving sentences for non-violent crimes that are more than double those with violent pasts. Inmates continue to be treated like cattle, rather than people.

Worse of all, people are dying. MRSA is allowed to spread throughout the body before being properly treated. People sit on blue benches for hours, begging to be seen at the clinic, only to be told they'll be put on call-out which never happens. People wait in 3 hour lines, missing their meals, in order to get the medication they need. Treatment for cancers and other serious illnesses are held up for months, while the illness spreads and gets worse, sometimes to the point of no longer being treatable. Necessary medications are withheld, because the prison doesn't want to bare the cost. While I was at Carswell for just over nine months, I witnessed the death of nearly a dozen inmates, half of which for things that I believe were improperly treated, or not treated at all. One unnecessary death is one to many!!

So, no, I will not just close my eyes to the injustice of treatment in our prison system. The vast majority of people are locked up for non-violent crimes (at least in the women's prisons). They are not all bad people, they made mistakes and perhaps some deserve to go to prison, but they are still people and equally deserve humanity. I knew our justice system was broken before I witnessed it first hand. Now, I must be a part of the solution.

I do not know what my future holds and in what ways my voice will be heard. I do know, though, that I have a voice and I must use it. I did my time, and got through it alright (albeit with a little PTSD).  However, I will only be able to truly be comfortable with my freedom, if I am doing what I can to help those still on the inside. I will not forget!

Tweeting

I've been in love with technology since I was a kid. My father built our first computer and I would teach everyone how to use it. Things were so simple back then... Excitement was watching a curser (called a turtle) draw lines and make cool objects on a program called "Logo." I'm aging myself here!

I've done my best to stay up to date on technology and software. However, the social media craze came on super fast and I missed the MySpace bandwagon. I joined Facebook later than many of my peers (although I've more than made up for it in updates and photos).  I now have Instagram, YouTube, LinkedIn and blogger as well. However, I never quite understood the Twitter craze and why tweeting was such a wonderful way to connect.

I was wrong. I started a @DFHazel twitter account yesterday, and in just one day, I've connected with numerous people from both the recovery and prison reform worlds. This blog has been visited by new people, and I've found great blogs by others. I'm already making possible friendly and/or professional connections. I get it now...

I've said from the beginning that my story is neither special nor unique. It's great to connect with others whose stories are similar and different from my own. Social media offers us a way to make new networks for collaboration, sharing, connecting, and fun.

I'm planning on making twitter a new daily connection for myself to the world. Feel free to follow me at @DFHazel - I may choose to follow you back as well. There's so much to learn about people.

My next feat will be to build a DFHazel website. It'll be a place to share resources I developed while away, relevant news, and other valuable information... Stay tuned for that to happen in the near future!

A NutriBullet

Sporty and T.S. brought home a NutriBullet today. If you are not familiar with this gizmo, it is a pulverizing blender used to make juices and liquid meals. Throw in spinach, kale, cucumbers, berries, peanut butter, yogurt, protein powder, ice, carrots, corn, milk, water, pineapple, coconut milk, well, not all these things at one time, but choose like 4-6 items, pulverize, and drink. I tried one with berries, pineapple, milk, and ice. It was good, but lacked sweetness somehow. Back to the drawing board.

I'm sure we will use this new toy over time. A smoothy in place of a meal can be a healthy choice. I know one woman who juiced for nearly 4 months and lost a ton of weight. She used kale as a base and every juice was green. Guess you can get used to anything!

It's really amazing the technology we have these days, and how little of it is offered in our prisons. There are so many women at Carswell who could barely chew food, how great it would be to offer them a quick nutritious meal in a cup! Big problem is that the ingredients are nearly impossible to get in the Feds - no berries, no kale or spinach, no cucumbers, no fresh carrots, no pineapple, no yogurt, etc. The only possible smoothies would include apples, oranges, and milk (and bananas on Wednesdays and Fridays). It's a miracle we can maintain any health in prison, with so few nutrients being served.

My friends and I started to notice that we were bruising super easy over the last several months. The lack of nutrients were also showing on our nails and in our eyes. I'd get a bruise and wouldn't heal from it for weeks.

Just two weeks home and my nails are healthy and I don't have a single bruise on my body. Eating normal has already improved my nutrition big time. It's just crazy to think how unhealthy people get from having to spend years on the prison diet!

I wish I could send my friends a nutribullet and the ingredients they need to have a healthier diet. Granted, everything would probably be sold for 10x cost on the underground market, but it would be so nice to see people healthier while incarcerated. Even without the bullet, it would be nice to see more nutritious food offered, period!

Tomorrow, I'm going to make a chocolate, banana and peanut butter smoothy. Something tells me that it won't be my most nutritious option. But, it should taste damn good!!!