Imprisonment: Behind Bars or In My Own Thoughts

 

I remember the day I was taken to ASPC Perryville, from Estrella County Jail. I had been up for 14-16 hours, in a tiny holding tank with 5 other women, no bench to sit on, not blankets, and no pillows. After sitting in this tank all night, freezing, starving and so tired that you can't even think straight, a van finally picked us up and transferred us from county jail to the state prison facility. I remember sitting in the van, chains on my ankles and cuffs on my wrists, peeking out of the tiny corner of the window with a huge smile on my face. I could see civilization! After a month of sitting in county jail, I hadn't seen a car drive on the freeway, or a tree, or the sky for that matter. So I sat against the door and watched carefully as we made our way to DOC.

When we pulled up to the gates at Lumley, one of Perryville's maximum security yards, we were lined up against a chain fence, uncuffed and sniffed out by the dogs. Now, some of you may be thinking, "that's horrible!" But let me tell you, we were promised that if we were on good behavior we would never wear a pair of handcuffs again, and that was something that means a whole lot after any time spent in a pair. I was so excited to finally get to Perryville, it meant better food, contact visits with my family, boyfriend and friends, no handcuffs, TV, being able to roam outside in a yard, and so much more. After losing these privileges of everyday life, you start to appreciate the really small things. I was ready to get these next few months knocked out, so I could go home, and if it meant some extra freedom along the way, I was all for it.

The first 8 hours upon arrival meant sitting in medical and receiving various tests and evaluations. Some processes are to make sure you are healthy enough to be held in public population, and others help classify your security level and medical clearance for work. It was a long process, and it went smooth until the last hour. I came in with a pair of plastic framed glasses, for a reason. I knew that metal frames were not allowed in the jails, and I have horrible vision, so I prepared. Well, After sitting through county for a month with no problem, and the first 7 hours of intake at Perryville, my glasses had not been a problem. About an hour before we were done, I was called to the Correction Officer's desk and asked to sign a form. As I glanced over the form, I realized it was property form that had information about my eye glasses already filled out. The C.O. then asked me to remove my glasses and surrender them to her.

"No, no. This can't be happening. I can't see without these." I kept thinking to myself. I explained that they were a plastic frame and was told i could keep them. She told me there was a small piece of metal at the hinges, and therefore they were not acceptable. She confiscated them, and told me to have a family member pick them up. My heart sank. I am legally blind without my glasses, and cannot see further than 6 inches away from my face. I was terrified. I am in prison, I have never been here before, I can't see, and I'm scared out of my mind. My mind starts racing at 1000 miles an hour, and the tears start streaming down my face. I wanted so badly to call home and talk to someone, anyone  familiar. I wanted to hug my mom, I wanted to lay in my own bed, I wanted Dan to tell me it was going to be OK, I wanted to feel safe. Honestly, I kept praying that I would wake up from this nightmare still...after 30 days ,a part of me thought it could still be a dream.

After we finished at medical they proceeded to take us to Receiving and Assignment (R&A). I had heard stories of this portion of the DOC journey, but again, nothing could fully prepare you for this. It was 23 hour a day lock down in a cell with 1-2 other cell mates. You are released for 15 minutes 3 times a day during the week, and 2 times a day on the weekends to eat, and 1 hour a day every 2-3 days for "Rec" where you can sit outside or take a shower. The first day in R&A, I was assigned a room with one of the women I had come from Estrella with, and we were told to go straight to our cell and "lock down." I remember as if it were yesterday, the feeling I had when I closed that door and I was confined to my cell. Overcome with fear, trembling to hold my tears back, once again, and feeling so much anxiety that it seemed as though I might just burst into a million pieces. I wanted to die. I literally wanted to give up, and call it quits rather than to go through this anymore.

The next few days were the toughest days I have ever had in my entire life. Not only could I not see anything, I could not call home, I had no paper to write a letter, I had no books to read, I couldn't sleep, I hadn't showered in 3 days (one of the women had our Rec taken away for bad behavior), the list went on and on. I was in so much fear and victimization, that I couldn't even get to a place of gratitude for one second!  I felt so broken, and it seemed as though I was never going to be able to recover from this. My release date was so far away, I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be a free woman again.

It wasn't until a few days after my arrival at Perryville that I had a moment of complete and utter clarity. I was standing at my tiny window in the door, looking out at the shadows to guess what time of day it was. I saw some birds on the rail in front of my cell, and I started to just focus on the birds. I started to think of what it would be like to be those birds. "If I were those birds, I would be as far away from this place as possible. Why do they chose to come here? There is no food, no water, no nothing." I stood in front of this door for a while, and I just observed. And suddenly it became very clear to me, "these birds don't know any different that to come here, to this prison, and search for food to survive. There must be something here for them to keep coming back." The more I pondered on that thought, the more I started to shift my perception of my situation. Prior to my court dates, and sentencing, I had a really positive attitude about this upcoming prison sentence. Somewhere along the way, I had lost that positivity, and got sucked into identifying myself with this prison. I had bought in to the illusion that I was a prisoner. I had bought into the illusion that I was worthless, and didn't deserve anything good in life. By watching these birds for who knows how long, I was able to become aware of the veil I had over myself. And ever so slowly, I started to peel it away.

The very moment I made the choice to accept my situation for what it was, a learning experience and nothing more, The gripping fear slowly started to release from me. It didn't happen immediately, but bit by bit things started happening. On my 4th day, I got my first letter from my father. It was a simple post card that said "Andre - I think about you everyday, and smile comes to my face when I think that we will be together again soon." I remember the feeling of warmth that started to fill my heart as I read those words. I remember the smile that came across my face, and the tears that followed. I wasn't alone. Even though I felt so far away, the simple reminder from my father helped me to see the truth of everything. My family was still there for me. My friends were still there for me. My boyfriend was still there for me. I had the same support that I did when I was home, I just had to stop looking outside for it. All I had to do was dig in and connect to my own heart to feel it.

My sponsor told me before I left, "If you can be free in prison, you can be free anywhere." I finally started to see that there was a solid truth to those words. The locked doors and cells and handcuffs could not imprison me. My own thoughts, judgments, and beliefs were the only bars that I could place on my life. Identifying myself with the things I had done, the places I had been, and the situations I had put myself in was going to be the only imprisonment that could exist. I was done playing the game, I was done buying into the illusion that I was worthless and less of a person for being where I was. And I made a committment to myself to stop feeling sorry for myself, and to accept responsibility for my actions, and learn from every part of this experience. I wanted to get to know the women around me, and learn from them, I wanted to take this break from society and cleanse myself. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that for the next few months I didn't have to worry about taking care of anyone but myself. This was ME time. I thank God for giving me that moment of awareness. I am grateful that I was able to take a step out of my own mind and observe what I was saying to myself. No wonder I couldn't get a positive thought out, I was too busy beating myself up and kicking myself when I was down. Once I was able to listen to my own thoughts, and not judge them, I was able to shift my perception completely. It didn't matter that I didn't have my glasses, or that I couldn't call my family yet. This was all temporary. The emptiness and loneliness that I felt was my own creation, and I didn't have to spend the next few months sulking in it. And let me tell you, those next few months held some of the happiest moments in my life. I shared beautiful connections with not only the women incarcerated with me, but with those back home. My relationships started to grow with my parents, my boyfriend, my friends and extended family. Here I thought that being gone would cause people to forget about me, and it did the opposite. It brought me closer to everyone, including myself.

Two months after getting to Perryville I finally had a pair of glasses sent to me from my father. I remember putting them on, and crying, I was so happy! It was very symbolic for me, it was as of God gave me my eyes back. After going the first two months hardly seeing a thing, and learning not to judge anyone of anything based on my eye sight, I was allowed to see again. Only this time, I could actually SEE. I appreciated what it was that appeared before me, prison and all. I embraced it, and those around me. I truly saw the women I was surrounded by and had learned to love them. And last....I could see myself. The best part was, I loved what I saw. I had learned to Love myself for the very first time....ever. and that was the most irreplaceable gift. When I look back at the months I spent in prison, I no longer have to dwell in the darkness, I can celebrate the light that came from it. I am actually proud of the woman I have become, and a large part of that growth is attributed to my stay behind bars.

  -Drea S.