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Bitching, Big, and Surrender

Potter County Women’s Recovery Center

May 30th, 2018

Wednesday

Day 331

8am

Everyone is just bitching incessantly today–it’s exhausting just to listen to. I just can’t fucking wait to get out of here so bad. Now we’re waiting for everyone to get around for Community. Jolene say she needs to shave her tush.

Funny.

I need to shave my legs.

10am

Well, Community was fun. Mr. Big encouraged us to call each other out and be honest in Community about what people are doing wrong. There was just a super hot guy on TV and Jolene said she almost creamed in her pants.

*sigh*

Me too.

Now she’s talking about something called Neflins existing before Adam and Eve. 

I know nothing about that.

John 20:29: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” –Jesus

Now we have “Healthy Relationships” group with the woman from A Way Out. She brought a board game, but she doesn’t know how to play it.

Hm.

11am

Chore time.

Jolene is discussing her situation with her ex with the A Way Out lady. Maybe she’ll finally get her PFA that she wants (and deserves).

John 20:31: “…but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”

John 21:25: “Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

1pm

Now we have Drug and Alcohol group. Today we are writing a letter to our addiction. 

Here’s mine:

From the time I was small, 

Until when I was tall, 

I knew life would be rough, 

And I’d have to be tough.

But you took it to another level, 

From that first needle bevel,

Going into my vein, 

Nothing would ever be the same.

I’d lie and I’d cheat, 

And you knew I’d be beat, 

But I didn’t care, 

You had me in your snare.

But things will be different now,
And I will tell you how.

First comes my Higher Power, 

I no longer have to cower.

Then comes me, 

And my little three.

I know if you had your druthers, 

I’d be dead, six feet under. 

But I no longer have to be scared, 

For, alas, I have been spared.

I have nothing but hate for you now, 

And this is my solemn vow:

I simply love life too much, 

To ever again use you as a crutch.

Very Sincerely, 

Justine

6:30pm 

God. 

Everyone is bitching like crazy right now.

May 31st, 2018

Thursday

Day 332

2pm

Now we’re doing a group on things nobody knows about us. We were supposed to do Community Service, but then Sugar Momma fell down again, so we stayed here. Brenda lived in 22 different homes growing up, and Jo is a triplet. Sandra just said, “Four kids is bad enough!!”

Asshole.

If people don’t want kids, why do they keep having more?!

Ugh.

Grammy is sleeping with her tongue hanging out, which is kind of funny.

10pm

Gawd.

Jo is freaking out again, this time because she’s been pitting first shift against second shift, telling second shift that first shift told her she can smoke at meetings, which is not true. She is only allowed to smoke two cigarettes per day because she gets in trouble so often.

This morning she went so far as to write Tori a note to see if Tori would ask me for my pills!! Of course, I made her show the note to Kat.

I want to scream at Jo–”BITCH, PUT THE SHOVEL DOWN!!”

Geezoman.

When is she going to learn?

I tell her to stop asking me, so she thinks Tori will??

WhatEVER.

Tomorrow I have to get online and see if I can find a place for Tori and I to live when we get out.

GOOD. 

NIGHT!!

June 1st, 2018 

Friday

Day 333

8am

Mr. Big looks hot today. But what am I talking about? He looks hot every day. I had more dreams about him when I went to bed last night.

God.

I fantasize about him when I’m awake, I fantasize about him when I’m asleep…it’s exhausting.

Ugh.

Now he’s in the room. I’ve got to stop.

Anyway…….doot….de doot…..de doooooooooot….not thinking about him at all…..yeah, right.

9am

Inspirational Group

The average American will meet 10,000 people in his or her lifetime. 

Lessons from Admiral speech: (inspirational)

If you want to change the world:

  1. Make your bed every morning.
  2. Ask for help.
  3. Measure people by the size of their heart.
  4. Keep moving forward.
  5. Don’t be afraid of failure (it makes you stronger).
  6. Sometimes you have to slide through the obstacles head first.
  7. Don’t back down.
  8. Be your very best during your darkest moments.
  9. Give hope to others, never give up.
  10. Respect everyone.

11am

I sweated my ass off in Gym. Now I get to sweep and mop the giant dining room floor. I’m finally doing my laundry too. Stupid Jo didn’t go to Gym, so she’s in even more trouble. I guess I’ll get on the computer for 15 minutes and look up apartments.

No luck with apartments. There’s one in Port Allegany that I might consider if it’s okay with Tori.

2:30pm

Big left for the day. Inspirational quote on the board (from And Still She Laughs, by Kate Merrick):

“And so I surrendered. I surrendered the idea that I can play God and control the outcome of my life. I surrendered the sinful attitudes, the self pity, the ugly fits. I surrendered the kicking of feet and lashing out at the One who is carrying me. I surrendered the wasting of time, sitting around paralyzed because I can’t get past the mess my life has become or the disappointments I have suffered. I surrendered what I had been holding back, all the love and adoration I had been withholding from God out of a broken heart: stingy, petulant, and hoarding affection.”

“In all their suffering, He also suffered.”

–Isaiah 63:9

10pm

Watching TV for the first time in over a month. I’m finally off of Restriction. I bought hair dye tonight–I can’t wait to dye my hair, but we’re only allowed to do it on the weekends, so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

Tori does not want to live in Port Allegany, which sucks super bad, because I was kind of hopeful about it.

Ugh.

Now “Knocked Up” is on–for the millionth time.

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Life Uncategorized

Picnics, Fantasies, and some Fuckery

May 26, 2018

Day 327

Saturday

8am

Pancakes for breakfast this morning. I wonder what today will be like. I guess we’re going to an AA/NA picnic for Memorial Day. Sandra is already bitching that we get to go and she doesn’t. She says the ones who have to stay back, they should get to go to the store for soda.

Yeah, right.

11am

On our way to the picnic with Tori, Jo, Jolene, Sugar Momma, and June. I guess Mr. Big is going to be there. 

Hm. 

I painted my nails and am wearing a dress.

I wonder how it will be.

May 27th, 2018

Day 328

Sunday

9:30am

The picnic yesterday was good. Nikolai and Temperance were there, which was nice, except she upset Tori by telling her that it’s been going around that she’s been getting high. 

Tori cried all the way home.

Big was at the picnic looking as hot as ever–a woman there even walked up to him and asked him for his number, but he didn’t give it to her.

I was surprised.

He got hit with a water balloon at one point, and almost took his shirt off, but then he didn’t. 

Boy, would I have loved to see that show. Of course it would be torture at the same time. More fodder for my dreams, I guess, which he’s been showing up in lately.

Anyway, it’s time to do the fucking kitchen inventory now, which I don’t want to do. I rained all last night and my whole body hurts.

12:30pm

I planted in the garden, instead of doing meal planning. I don’t feel like cooking this week–let the new people do it. 

Now I am reading my Bible:

John 8:12: “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

John 8:31: “So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, ‘If you abide by my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’”

May 28th, 2018

Day 329

Monday

11am

Today is Memorial Day, so Big isn’t working. Tori, Grammy, Jo, and I are making picnic food. The rest of the women are at a parade down the road except for Sugar Momma, who is in bed with the barfs.

It seems like she’s sick every day.

We were going to do the roadside rest for our picnic, but we can’t because of her being in bed.

My mother brought the boys yesterday, and we read books for an hour, which was very nice. She didn’t say anything about the letter I wrote her, although she did ask how I was, which is a big step for her. I told her I was sick from being in the sun all day Saturday, and she told me I should invest in a sunhat, which is a good idea.

Now I am praying for the strength and willingness to forgive the others in my life that have wronged me. I have to forgive myself at some point, too, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that. My sponsor came last night to see me too, but we didn’t talk much about the steps. We were just basically catching up, because I didn’t see her last week.

My hands hurt (more rain last night), so I’m going to read my “And Still She Laughs: Defiant Joy in the Depths of Suffering” book:

“I could argue that I should, in fact, stay afraid as a form of protection, because life is brutal and good things don’t last. Or I could say that God was with me, that He received Daisy (her daughter) into his arms, that He carries us through the valley of the shadow of death and will continue to be present in our time of need.”

–Kate Merrick

“Fear causes us to miss out on the beauty and joy that exists in every life.”

2:30pm

We went outside for a while, which was nice. Now we’re doing “Music Therapy,” which is just us listening to music for an hour. Ke$ha’s “Praying” is on right now.

Outside, the garden I planted is doing well. Grammy’s not having a good day. She looks like she’s going to kill someone. Tori has court in nine days to see if she can get out of here a month early. I’ll miss her a lot if she goes, but I’ve been lucky that she’s been in here this long with me. She just wrote me a not saying that it pisses her off when she’s in the bathroom peeing, and somebody shouts, “Who’s in there?” Like she’s going to stop peeing and then go back in and finish peeing in boiled egg and tuna smell.

Gross!

She’s so funny.

Sandra has a fan blowing only on her, and the rest of us are sitting here sweating.

Selfish.

And how do women like Elaine and Brenda have boyfriends and I don’t?!

I need to stop. 

I’m being mean and wallowing in self-pity.

Again.

Ugh.

It’s almost time for being in our rooms, which I enjoy because then I can take a nap. “Fight Song” is on–Tori’s favorite.

Back to my book:

John 14:27 “I am leaving you with a gift–peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”

–Jesus

I bet Sandra regretted that fan–Grammy just farted and it went right in her face.

“We decide if we are willing to laugh without fear.”

Isaiah 63:9: “In all their suffering, He [Jesus] also suffered.”

Heb. 2:18: “Since he himself has gone through suffering and testing, he is able to help us when we are being tested.”

Well, I finished my book. Granny has some wicked gas and is stinking it up in here. Halfway through the book, the author has a miscarriage, but even in her grief, she is grateful for what she has. It reminds me that only three of my nine pregnancies survived past infancy, and four were never born at all. But I, too, can be grateful for the children that I do have, and not bitter (any more) for those that I lost.

6pm

Group.

We’ve watched these “Life Skills videos about a thousand times now. 

Ugh.

Tori is over in the corner snickering about the look on my face. Jo and Diamond are discussing laxatives, Brenda’s buttcrack is hanging out, and Jolene and Sandra are journaling. I guess Sugar Momma’s Grandmother died, which is terrible. I hate it when people lose their loved ones while they’re in here–it makes it that much harder.

The woman in this video has crazy high hair–like beehive hair. She looks like Loretta Lynn.

There are a lot of flies in here–it is super annoying. It’s also well above 80 degrees, which makes everyone miserable, especially Grammy.

I can’t watch this anymore.

I’m going to read my Bible.

10:30pm

Full moon tonight, and boy, can you tell around here. Jolene is hysterical because her ex keeps showing up when we’re out and scaring the shit out of her. He beat her so badly one time in public that she had to have her face reconstructed. The PFA on him expired, so she needs a new one, and Big doesn’t seem to be taking it seriously. This is a mental health disaster waiting to happen. 

I’m worried about her.

She thinks she’s never mattered her whole life, and it’s more of the same here.

May 29th, 2018

Tuesday

Day 330

6am

I’m not sure why, but I got up at 5:30am today. Actually I am sure–I had a dream that it was 7:30am, and Big was here already, and I was late getting up. 

Ugh.

I’m watching a show on TV called “Mom” that’s really funny. Of course I’m not supposed to be watching TV because I’m on Restriction, on Friday. 

I have Crossroads today, which should be nice. 

I didn’t get to go last week because my insurance lapsed.

It’s funny, on this show, the mom says, “It checks out,” just like Jolene does all of the time. I wonder how she’ll do today with talking to Mr. Big, who thinks that she is “overreacting.”

Wow, the women on this show are recovering alcoholics! That’ s kind of cool. Oh, they changed the channel.

Boo.

We’ll probably end up watching the Weather Channel or Hallmark now. 

Ugh. Sandra is up.

Yup–I called it–The Weather Channel. 

Yuck.

Why are people so obsessed with the weather?

7:30am

Omg, I just walked past Jo’s room and she had a spoon sitting on her nightstand!!

WTF is she thinking?!

Geezoman. If she gets caught with that, it’s considered contraband. I hope she’s not using it to cook drugs–that would be the stupidest thing she could do.

Wow.

Dummy.

We haven’t had room searches in weeks, if not months, so they must be coming up soon.

Anyway, I hope today is a good day. I actually love Crossroads, individual and group therapy, and I hope that I am still able to go after I’m out of here. Some people even bring their kids with them. Of course, if I live with Tori, I’ll finally have a babysitter. Shit, that reminds me–I need to call the landlord about this house we might get! 

Oh.

Business phone calls aren’t until 10am, and I’ll be in Wellsboro at 10am.

Poop.

The staff is asking Mr. Big–aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand he said no. 

Predictable.

He hasn’t been out of his office yet this morning, probably because it seems like everyone needs to talk to him urgently. The rest of the women will be leaving for grocery shopping pretty soon. I gave Tori my book, “And Still She Laughs” by Kate Merrick to read–I hope she gets something out of it.

Bible:

John 12:44– “And Jesus cried out and said, ‘Whoever believes in me, believes not in me but in Him who sent me. And whoever sees me sees him who sent me. I have come into the world of light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness. If anyone hears my words and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.”

John 13:31: “‘A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.”

–Jesus

John 14:6: “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’”

John 14:27 “‘Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.’”

–Jesus

John 15:5 “‘I am the vine, you are the branches.’”

John 15:9: “‘As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.’”

–Jesus

8:30am

Oh my–people are giving Jo advice on how to poop again. She’s always constipated. Tori says that she can feel some fuckery about to happen. They had four staff this morning, including Mr. Big, and then Gert left for some reason, and no one has gone grocery shopping yet for some reason, and all the staff have been in the office all morning for some reason. It’s making me nervous.

Great.

Now Jessie came out and told us that no one can smoke all day. This might be because Sandra went out to  smoke yesterday without permission.

FUCK.

How do they think that this is “rehabilitative???”

John 16:22: “‘So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.’”

–Jesus

John 16:27: “‘For the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God.’”

–Jesus

9am

Woooooooooooooow. We’re not allowed to smoke for the whole day, and staff won’t even tell us why. I’m going to guess that this isn’t going to be just a one-day thing, either. 

Great.

This should be a blast.

They sent Stacey with us to make sure we don’t smoke.

Cool.

12pm

Group is over. Now waiting for Tori for an hour while she’s in Individual [Group]. Group was good. I talked about my letter to my mother, forgiveness, and letting go of resentments, which is still difficult for me.

1pm

On our way home. I told Stacey about Jo and Jolene…I couldn’t seem to help it. I don’t know if it was the right thing to do or not, but I prayed about it beforehand, and then felt compelled to tell her, so we’ll see what fuckery this brings.

I hope it’s not bad.

I didn’t really know what else to do–I mean–the girl is leaving fucking spoons in plain view!!

Ugh.

Anyway, it’s just beautiful outside today. The wildflowers are blooming, the sky is pastel blue with big, puffy white clouds, and the temperature is in the 80s. 

Beautiful.

Tori wants to pick the Sweet Williams’ and Rhododendrons and put them in her room, but we’re not allowed to bring flowers in the building because Sugar Momma is allergic. She seems to have a multitude of health problems.

2pm

Now we have parenting class–

The Four Main Parenting Styles–

Authoritarian, Authoritative, Permissive, Uninvolved.

The parenting lady had her phone in her back pocket, and the flashlight was on, and Mr. Big saw it and pointed that her butt was glowing, and she asked why he was looking at it.

Funny.

Score the following using this scale:

1 = Always

2 = Most of the time

3 = Sometimes

4 = Rarely

5 = Never

  1. It is fun and fulfilling to be a member of our family.
  2. Everyone in our family participates in family tasks.
  3. Family togetherness and unity hold high priority in our family.
  4. We promote family love and unity by following certain values and family traditions, such as respecting prayer for the meal.
  5. We plan a family day or do something together at least once a week.

7pm

Now we have an in-house group with Tori’s sponsor, Gena. I didn’t know it, but at 3:30pm, I had a doctor’s appointment to recheck my Hep-C. My liver values are still high, but stable. I’ll find out about my actual viral load in a few days.

We’re on Step 9 now, which is making amends to others. Gena always tells this story about how her fiance (now husband) screwed a different woman, and how after that, Gena was always flipping her off and acting like a fool toward her–and eventually Gena apologized to her for her bad behavior toward her.

I can’t imagine.

Of course she adds in that if she knew then what she knows now, she wouldn’t have married him. 

Geez.

Jolene is talking, yet again, about how her ex is terrorizing her and how she feels worthless. She is hijacking every single group lately with this. I guess on Sunday night, he was driving down the road, and he sped up while some of the women from the Center were crossing the road, and Jolene swears he was trying to hit them. I’m not sure why she would go back to the Galeton meeting at all after the last meltdown.

I don’t mean to be insensitive, I mean, I feel for the girl; but it’s obvious that the solution is a PFA and some serious mental health counseling.

“Pain is the touchstone of all spiritual progress.”

–Unknown (12 Steps and 12 Traditions, AA)

9pm

Geezoman.

Now Jo, Jolene, and Tori are getting their rooms searched. Apparently they found something in Jo’s room, because she just came out and flipped out about it, saying, “This is fucking bullshit!! Somebody’s been running their fucking mouths!”

I meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaan….she had a damn spoon on her nightstand for God’s sake!!

What did she expect?!

Whatever.

The fuckery continues.

Oh, she just came out and said that she had a lighter and a cigarette in her room.

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Life Uncategorized

INTERVIEW: Jupiter

MUNCY STATE PRISON

INTERVIEW

“Jupiter”

White

Female

41yrs 

Three daughters

History of mental illness?

Yes, PTSD, Bipolar II, anxiety/depression

Trauma?

Childhood sexual abuse, neglect/emotional abuse by mother–led to physical abuse in relationships as an adult

Addiction?

Mostly alcohol, marijuana started when stepdad provided alcohol at 10yrs old

How long have you been incarcerated in your lifetime?

Seven years

This time?

Three years

What happened?

Mismanaged mental health, awful history of coping with substances, DUI, slew of reckless endangerments–hit a pick-up truck, sideswiped a school bus, 7am, car died, sat there

Sentence: 1-2 years

Original charge–4th offense DUI with Child Endangerment, 2-5 years in 2018–maxes in August–has one year left.

Public Defender/Plea Deal

Wanted to take it to trial, threatened with being charged separately, not run concurrent, more time

Have you been to rehab?

Yes, once, in 2010–didn’t stay sober, didn’t want to go.

Police waited two hours to draw blood, mom had just died. 

“Knowing what I know now, I should have worked on mental health stuff.”

Sexually abused by stepdad–hot tub, motorcycle, alcohol, Mom said not to act so slutty, Mom said Jupiter was jealous of her.

–Had DUI in 200 or 2001 first time

How were you treated by the police, court system, etc.?

“I was held to a higher standard because I had a college education, and because I was a woman and a mother.”

What are your plans for the future?

“I probably down the road want to be a domestic violence counselor, want to let other women know that they’re not alone, we can make a difference, our stories matter.”

DUI’s seemed to always correlate with negative life events

“I don’t think the system cares about that stuff.”

Do you think prison is rehabilitative?

“No. Not the DOC (Department of Corrections), I have met people or groups here that have helped me. I feel like it’s a numbers game.”

What do you do for fun?

“I love to be outside, hiking, skiing, music is a must. Playing with my girls when they were little.”

“I feel [the DOC] needs a lot more trauma-informed people in the system. The Parole Board told me I’m not capable of change. It makes no sense to not understand the person as a whole.”

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INTERVIEW–“Cricket”

INTERVIEW

“Cricket”

Female

40yrs

Three children

Trauma?

“Yes, my dad was in and out of jail my whole life, mom was an alcoholic. I became a parent at five years old to my siblings. I don’t remember the sexual abuse, but I know it happened. My maternal grandmother died of cancer when I was 10 years old, she was my safe haven. I watched my other grandma die of cancer. There was always violence in my home.”

“The love of my life has schizophrenia. Bath salts–everything changed overnight. I got us out of the shelter and got us a house, but that was my undoing–my grandma died at the same time. We could never be together. I ended up having a nervous breakdown, wouldn’t leave the apartment for a year.”

New husband —> Volatile relationship–domestic violence.

“He almost killed me a couple of times.”

“I’m married to my best friend. We went through hell. In a sick way, he showed me how to grieve.”

Mental Illness?

Depression, PTSD, ADHD, generalized anxiety

“I used to be on meds on the outside, but they won’t give me [here] what I was on.”

Addiction?

“Yes, started using at 13. It became a problem at 21 years old, I was on Medically Assisted Treatment [Suboxone/Subutex/etc.] successfully, but after breakdown…speed, coke, fentanyl.”

How long have you been in prison this time?

One year, five months.

In your lifetime?

Eight times–possession, paraphernalia

What happened this time?

“I ran from probation. I wanted to take drugs into the jail, gave them to too many people, three people overdosed, one died. She was my friend–$1million wrongful death lawsuit–she could’ve been saved.”

Sentence?

Seven years and three months to 20 years

How were you treated?

“It was election year–my lawyer said I wouldn’t do any better (on plea deal), had a court appointed lawyer who was buddies with the DA. I wasn’t offered any kind of drug treatment. I begged for treatment court.”

Plea Deal

Threatened with 15 years if she took it to trial.

Had PWID (Possession with Intent to Deliver) charges–had evidence on a recorded device.

How were you treated by the police?

“A couple were nice, but they lied to me–said people told him I did things…”

Contact with victim’s family?

Lawyer read apology letter in court

“She was my dealer on the outside–no hard feelings from her brother. They looked like they wanted to kill me in the courtroom.”

Do you have any outside support?

Mom is supportive, dad–died. Kids, husband.

What do you do for fun?

“I used to love to sing and dance and play with my kids. We’d laugh all the time. They’re funny (cries). AA in here is fun.”

Do you think prison is rehabilitative?

“No. Maybe long bids because they separate you from the crime. They wouldn’t let me do SDTP (State Drug Treatment Program) even though I have a drug case. They gave me no chance at all. They gave me the TC to do four months before my minimum.

I am a really good person, and I had it together at one time. I don’t feel like I was ever given a chance. I had no help. I would have done long-term rehab, but I wasn’t given that option (cries).”

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Life Uncategorized

Get the Picture?

Muncy State Prison

May 6, 2024

Monday

2:20pm

I haven’t done anything today. Library in five minutes. Everything’s scheduled down to the minute here. Hopefully I’ll find something good  to read.

Book:

Women Doing Life: Gender Punishment, and the Struggle for Identity, by Lora Bex Lempert © 2016

P. 1-2

“One thor of all the incarcerated women in the world are in U.S. prisons. Although men constitute 93% of the U.S. prison population, the number of women under state and federal correctional authority is the fastest growing segment of the U.S. prison population. Between 1980 and 2010 the population of incarcerated women increased 646%. In 2011 more than 1,400,00 women were under the supervision of the criminal-processing system, that is, on probation or parole incarcerated, or subject to other forms of formal justice control. Race is significant in these incarcerations, as black non-Hispanic women are incarcerated at 2-3 times the rate of white women (129 vs. 51 per 100,000) and Latina women are incarcerated at 1.4 times the rate of white women (71 vs. 51 per 100,000), although reflecting their higher percentage in the U.S. population, more white than black or Hispanic women are incarcerated. Age is also significant: About 60% of both white and black imprisoned females are 39 or younger, as are 67% of Hispanic females.

Additionally, many incarcerated women were single heads of households and mothers of dependent children prior to imprisonment…”

P. 2

“The dramatic increase in female imprisonment, the 646% increase, have not been a response to more violent female criminality as media constructions would have us believe. Women’s share of violent crime as remained more or less stable since the 1980s. There are, however, more female arrests now than in the past.” 

P. 9

“Criminologists have convincingly demonstrated that maternal incarceration is more damaging to children than the incarceration of fathers. The children of incarcerated mothers feel their mothers’ absence more acutely, and they experience more disruption than the children of incarcerated fathers, putting them at risk for adverse outcomes. Children with imprisoned mothers suffer the shame and stigma of maternal incarceration; face particular challenges of family instability (e.g., moving to new home environments one or more times); undergo disrupted attachments, not only from a mother, but also from siblings, other family members, friends, schools, and communities; experience school failures; engage in antisocial, aggressive, and delinquent behaviors; and are two and a half times more likely to be incarcerated as adults than are children of incarcerated fathers.

Additionally, criminologists Vernetta Young and Rebecca Reviere and Jane Seigel have demonstrated that prisons do not meet the needs of women or the hundreds of thousands of children they leave behind…The Bureau of Justice Statistics reports that 59% of parents in state facilities and 45% in federal facilities have had no personal visits with their dependent children during the periods of their incarceration.

P. 10

“As Erin George, an incarcerated poet and mother, notes, such forfeiture of contact with children is a “soul-killing loss” borne by both life-sentenced mothers and their children.”

P. 11-12

“Most criminal-processing books are geared toward men, as are penal codes, sentencing guidelines, and correctional programs and opportunities. Officials at every level of the criminal-processing system are overwhelmingly male…The continuing focus on men has meant fewer carceral resources for increasing numbers of women, reliance on one-size-fits all gender-stereotyped programming, and inattention to gender-specific needs like substance abuse, HIV treatment, obstetrics and gynecology, child care, and psychological needs. In a system designed for violent men, it is a challenge to get adequate health care for women’s particular physical and mental needs…In their pre-incarceration lives, women experience higher rates of drug and alcohol abuse; report disproportionately more histories of rape, incest, and physical abuse; are diagnosed with higher rates of illness and mental health problems; and are the primary caretakers of dependent children. The Bureau of Justice Statistics provides evidence for these claims: 57% of women in state prisons have been victims of violence in their lifetimes, 47% have experienced physical abuse, and 39% have been victims of sexual abuse. Many have experienced multiple types of abuse. One-third of women in state prisons (33%) reported having been raped prior to their imprisonments.”

P. 13

“Most often, women’s offenses are crimes generated by poverty and ensuing strategies for survival.”

P. 14 “Mass imprisonment is silently absorbing women who have been abandoned by formal and informal safety nets, and, in the process, it is destroying and demoralizing communities.”

Categories
Life Uncategorized

Mr. Big, Sex, and Addictions

Potter County Women’s Center

Day 53

August 26, 2017

Saturday

I don’t have any winter clothes. Hm. I’ll have to go to the Community Closet (and put in a request for that). Now we need request slips to take a shit, it seems. We’re off to Wellsboro for that crappy meeting. Only two or three people besides us ever show up, so it’s ridiculously boring. There’s always supposed to be a speaker, but they never show up. 

I’m sitting in the front, so I’m in charge of the radio. Mr. Big has been having fun making all kinds of new rules lately, which makes me like him even less. It also makes it harder not to get written up, which sucks. I can’t get in trouble here because I still have the threat of state prison hanging over my head. 

I sent an application and resume to the closest vet clinic, which is 20 minutes away. That’s probably a bit much to hope for, so I’m applying for jobs in Coudersport too. Stupid jobs like “Sandwich Artist” at Subway. I’d like to waitress or bartend so I can make tips. This morning our bathroom wasn’t working, so I took a shower in the staff bathroom (with permission), shut the door and everything, and got walked in on my staff anyway while I was half-naked!

Hope she enjoyed the show.

At least it wasn’t Mr. Big. That would’ve been horrifying.

I don’t really know how I feel about eight more months here. Of course I don’t want to, but I’m trying to be grateful that I’m not in state prison. That sounds awful. Mr. Big seems to like me, he had me run a group yesterday. I decided to make it about God/Higher Power(s)–it went well and even lasted a whole hour, which I was surprised about. It was hard for me to change my address to here, but I did it.

Everybody is singing, “Hold on, hold on to me, cuz I’m a little unsteady…a little unsteady…” I miss singing. Just blasting music (especially in a car) and singing at the top of my lungs. It’s therapeutic. Always makes me feel better anyway. None of the music on the radio seems good to me anymore. 

Does that mean I’m old?

1:25pm
The meeting was good. There was a baby there that I got to hold. Reminds me of my sons when they were little. When Tiger was little like that, everything was a blur. I was drinking then. A lot.

My Superman said to me once, “Mommy, I know who my Daddy is.” I, terrified that somehow Prynot had weasled his way into their lives, alarmingly replied, “Who?!” Superman calmly replied, “You are.” That made my heart just melt. I love those kids so much it hurts. Taylor Swift is singing, “Shake it Off.” I feel like I have a million things I can’t shake off. My health problems right now, my extended stay here, the constant ache in my heart for my kids, and so many other things. 

I really, REALLY hope this publisher wants to publish my book Kidowed. Right now it’s only available through Smashwords.com as a free download. Maybe I’ll put it back on Amazon for free too. Chantilly and I have been walking more, which is good for me. I can’t get under 150lbs though. My doctor told me I should be happy with that after five children, but the BMI chart on the wall taunts me, saying I’m 15lbs overweight. I feel like it’s more like 25lbs. I weighed 117lbs after the twins, but when they (my parents and Dubya) teamed up and took all three of my kids away from me, all I could do was eat. And I started drinking again. Couldn’t find a reason not to. Then later I started doing drugs too. I just let the overwhelming depression consume me. I’m still having a lot of trouble with anger, acceptance, and gratitude. 

And oh, the Pain.

The oppressive, enveloping pain.

On the board at the meeting, it said, “What is Happiness?” I don’t know anymore. I’m really unhappy that I’m not in remission from lupus anymore. That explains the constant pain lately. My hips and knees have been screaming at me despite the daily Meloxicam. It’s been humid and raining a lot. Fourteen miles till Westfield–where I used to get my Vicodin. My friend John Wayne (deceased) used to ride along with me, then he would take me out to eat. He loved the store Ackley’s , and he would lovingly stare at all of the guns, even though he wasn’t allowed to buy one because he shot and killed a man in a bar fight once. He was quite a character. I miss him. I wonder if I hadn’t met him during my using years if I would have cared more about his health (he was 350lbs), gotten him out more, and maybe he would have lived longer. Of course he drank a 30-pack per day. 

I have a lot of guilt about our relationship. I used to manipulate him out of his pain meds all of the time (he didn’t take them), using them as payment for cleaning his house or taking him somewhere. Of course he manipulated me too, knowing I would do almost anything to get them. He used to know a couple women who would give him blow jobs for Tylenol 3’s. I never went that far, but he sure tried. 

What a relationship.

Two addicts in the grips of a downhill spiral. I was still with Dubya at the time. What a mother I was to Lilly. 

Enough of that. 

Guilt city. In Westfield now. The song, “Slow Hands” is on, which reminds me of how much I miss sex. It’s not as bad as it was last time I was in here. Of course that time I was sort of withdrawing from Luke. He was like an addiction in himself. I was addicted to everything about him–he oozed sex appeal, thought I was sexy as Hell, and what a freakin’ body! Sexy, sexy. I wonder if I’ll ever have sex like that again. We literally couldn’t get enough of each other–we would have sex for hours, and it always just worked–it never felt forced or uncomfortable. 

Amazing.

And I lost 20 freakin’ pounds over that winter with him. Even more amazing. But the fact remains that I was just a fling and his heart belongs to another woman. 

Ah, well.

Of course I keep having sex dreams about Mr. Big, but that’s just because he’s he only man I see all day. It’s weird, waking up all turned on, and then having to look him in the face all day.

Categories
Life

Criminal “Justice” and Public Pretenders

Back in 2015, my parents started suing me for custody over and over again until they won, and I started drinking again full-time like it was my job, because my life was crumbling before my eyes and I felt helpless to stop it. I was also trying to navigate my new criminal charges with no money and no good advice from the Public Defender, who was set to retire and flat-out refused to take my case to trial. I refused the first two “deals” by the DA at the Criminal Conferences, and then at the third one, he started screaming at me that he was “GOING TO WIN!!” with his face all red and veins bulging, if I tried to take it to trial.

Both the Public Defender and his secretary then began pleading with me to take the final deal, which included years of probation, house arrest, and a weekend in the McKean County Jail.

I felt backed into a corner.

The lawyer emphatically and flatly refused to defend me. I was finally coerced into taking the plea deal (and then was forced to sign paperwork and tell a judge that I wasn’t coerced). 

This was my introduction to the criminal “justice” system.

Categories
Life

lupus and daisies

Saturday

3/23/24

8:45am

I’m a wheelchair pusher today, so I took Ms. Grumpy Crabass to the Library. I was able to get a book, so there was an upside to walking in the rain. I have to return it on April 6th. Another one of Ethan’s death anniversaries in prison.

10am

I called the boys. We didn’t have much to say to each other. I wonder if I’m losing them like I lost Lilly.

That didn’t take long.

Ten must be the magical age where they begin to hate.

12:15pm

We got searched. No problems, thank the Lord. Now they’re taking somebody’s stinger, which is a contraption people cook with.

Did I mention that I feel like shit today and I’m having a lupus flare? I just want to sleep all day. This book, about people serving Life Without Parole (LWOP) sentences, is very depressing. Although I feel like I should bear witness to their suffering, instead of giving up on the book like a coward.

I cannot get comfortable.

I’m sad, depressed, and I feel like shit. And it’s raining to boot. Why is it always raining?

***********************************************************************

INTERVIEW

“Daisy”

Age: 41 years

Female

White

7 children from 7-22 years old

From Somerset County

History of trauma and abuse?

Yes, watched a lady get stabbed 17 times when daisy was 14

Father drowned when she was 8

Had had five abusive relationships–last one—> Met ex in 2019, extremely abusive, stalked Daisy to get to know her, then tried to kill her several times during the course of the relationship. They met after Daisy’s first incarceration–started incarceration cycle

History of addiction?

Yes, started using at 14–weed, cocaine, then coke/crack until 27, alcoholoc from 27-35, then from 35-present-meth

Had periods of sobriety, went to rehab twice to stay out of jail

Never has gone to rehab voluntarily

History of mental illness?

Yes–attempted suicide at 15, diagnosed with Battered Woman Syndrome, ADD, PTSD, depression with mania, night terrors

How much time have you spent incarcerated?

Off and on since 2019

How were you treated by the court?

“They just assumed I was an alcoholic…I was fleeing my husband because he had tried to kill me…I had the kids in the car. The cops didn’t care that my husband was abusive, they just wanted to know where he was. They said if I was going to leave him, I already would have. Now he’s taking his case to trial and they’re bringing up the abuse. He raped our daughter. There was a no-contact order and they put us in the same jail.”

Charges?

2015–DUI third tier, Child Endangerment

2024–Simple possession, Possession with Intent to Distribute, Hindering Apprehension

Paid private attorney or public defender?

Public Defender

Plans for the future?

“I don’t want to get high. There’s no support for women in my county. I want to work in a field that creates healthy support systems for women. I’ve missed a lot of time with my kids. I want to go home and be a better mother to my kids. I have to get out of Pennsylvania. I’m going to have a grandchild while I’m in prison. I’ve missed two graduations.”

What do you do for fun?

“I paint furniture and pictures. I make wreaths and garden. I like to grow things.”

Categories
Life

Bipolar 1, tigers, and criminal charges

Wednesday

3/20/2024

8am

The phones are down. I have a phone call at 9:45am, of course. They only gave me eight Mobic (anti-inflammatory pill), and I don’t know how to get it refilled.

Ugh.

They’re acting like it’s a prn (as needed), and it’s definitely not. I have to take that every day. I’ll ask the nurse if they ever decide to call meds.

I asked.

The prison nurse said it’s a prn and that I have to put in a Sick Call paper. 

That’s great.

Like–I have lupus every day, not eight times per month.

Assholes.

I have some Psych appointment at 1:15pm.

Fun times.

Of course, on the way back from  meds, Daisy told me a story about someone she was related to who had lupus, but died at 35 years old. 

Gangrene.

Lovely.

How did I know that was coming?

12pm

They gave us like five seconds to eat in the Chow Hall. 

Ridiculous.

I’m going to go check the kiosk.

No messages.

2pm I went to my Psych appointment, and the Nurse Practitioner told me that they don’t have the Abilify injection and I can’t stay on Wellbutrin. 

Cool.

I’m now reading a book called, “Conversations with Nostradamus.” In it, I found a request slip to the Superintendent here from an inmate that asks why she is on two different antibiotics, and then asks: “Are y’all trying to make me sick? … It seems like you’re milking me for every little penny that I have. This facility receives what, about $1,700 a day for me being here? Three meals that average around $0.19 each? I don’t understand. My charges were dropped before coming here, then PA picked up my case before I got to this point. After that, I was oversentenced, when I should have went [sic] home in December.”

Sounds about right.

The request slip is dated 2/11/24.

I checked the kiosk and Motorcycle and Gem finally got my letters. They both sent nice messages.

Thursday

3/21/24

10:30am

So, I went to the therapist today and she made me cry.

Ugh.

Asking me questions about my kids and shit.

Then, of course, she followed up with asking me if I wanted to kill myself, probably because she made me cry.

In other news, I guess my aunt put some money on my books, because my mother is blocked from doing it. She messaged me on the kiosk and so did Motorcycle and Gem. Gem mostly talks about how unfair it is that I am here, and Motorcycle mostly talks about how much he misses me.

What a sweetheart.

Currently, Burgundy and Daisy are both doing Burgundy’s homework. I guess Burgundy recruited Daisy against her will. I don’t think I like Burgundy very much. She’s always talking about how she’s such a good person and God this and blessings that…it’s very tiring. Then, of course, she has to point out that  most everyone else in the world is not a good person, according to her.

Spare me. 

4pm

So I went to that therapist this morning, then to get my Driver’s License renewed, then parole. The parole lady basically coerced me into waiving my parole hearing, and then made me sign a paper saying that I wasn’t coerced. At first I said no, and then she put down her pen, stared at me for an uncomfortably long time, then listed all of the reasons I should waive it.

Sounds like the DOC.

She already had the waiver paperwork filled out before I got there. 

Fuck my life.

Then she gave me paperwork with my charges:

2/27/24

Resisting arrest/other law enforcement (M2)

Disorderly conduct engaging in fighting (M3)

Resisting arrest/other law enforcement (M2)

Disorderly conduct hazardous (M3)

Also, the phones are working on every other unit, but not this one.

7pm

Motorcycle messaged me. He’s worried I’m not okay because I sent him a short message. I’m fine, I just keep writing short messages because the kiosks seem to be a favorite hangout for some very nosy people. It’s very uncomfortable to write personal messages with strangers all around me. 

The ladies next door are talking about how one of them mailed a grey hair home to show how prison ages a person.

If they only knew how true that is.

******************************************************************

After Kaylee died, I found myself penniless and stuck living with my parents in the armpit of Pennsylvania (also known as “God’s Country”), Potter County.

I was suddenly childless, and for the first time since I was 15, jobless. I had a useless Vet Tech degree and license, and now, nothing to do with my life. I was also floundering in a sea of grief after burying two babies, struggling with undiagnosed PTSD, and depressed out of my mind. I got a meaningless job as a bartender to match my meaningless life.

This is where I met nice, sweet Dubya. He had a John Cusack in “Say Anything” air about him, and kind of looked like him too. I met him in a bar, of course. I could imagine him holding a radio above his head outside my bedroom window, and we went on seven dates in seven days.

I fell so fast and so hard for him that I nearly cracked my head wide open.

You shoulda heard the thud.

I was desperate for any excuse to get out of my parent’s house, so we moved in together pretty quickly. As  my mother would accuse me later– “You were happy.” 

And I was as happy as I could be at the time, I guess. Dubya was always good to me, and when he asked me to marry him, I said yes.

Then Tiger was born three days after Christmas 2009. My life should have been perfect. Tiger was as healthy as a baby could be, and I was married to the nicest, sweetest man I had ever met up until that point in my life.

However, I couldn’t find a job, and my vodka problem had come back with a vengeance, along with its sister, a Vicodin problem. I was still struggling mightily with PTSD symptoms, and it turns out I am also bipolar and didn’t know it, and so wasn’t treated for it. Things got really bad when Tiger was about five weeks old and my sister Elizabeth (who lived with us at the time) and I decided to go out to the bar that was located basically in our front yard.

We went.

I got blackout drunk after not drinking for 10 months and started screaming at the rain.

When I came to several hours later, I was still sobbing and repeating, “I can’t do this anymore,” over and over again, through gritted teeth.

It was around 3am, and my poor husband (and Elizabeth) didn’t quite know what to do with me. I was sitting outside in the freezing cold at the end of January and refused to come inside. 

They called my mother.

She came, and they took me to the hospital, which referred me to a psychiatric facility. This was my introduction to Bipolar I Disorder with Psychotic Features, which wouldn’t be diagnosed formally until 2015, long after the effects of it had ruined my life.