Tag: bipolar-disorder

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Life Uncategorized

Loneliness, Letters to Tiger, and Lockdowns

Muncy State Prison

May 18th, 2024

10:50am

I had a wonderful dream about me and Tiger. We were outside and talking and laughing in the grass and I hugged and kissed her and it was just wonderful. I think we were having a picnic, like I used to do with the boys every time we would have visitation and it was nice out. Of course Tiger was never there because she goes to a school 45 minutes away and the visits were at 3pm. She didn’t want to go anyway, most of the time. I don’t know what I would say if I wrote her a letter anyway. I’m bipolar, please forgive me?

*sigh*

I don’t know. 

Tiger, 

I don’t really know what to say to you. I had a really good dream about me and you last night where we were outside in the grass talking and laughing. Like normal moms and daughters do.

I never wanted it to be like this. I don’t know if you know this, but I am bipolar. It runs in my mother’s side of the family. This means that I have psychotic episodes sometimes where I have no control over my behavior, and I make bad decisions. This is why I’m in prison now, and what caused me to leave your Dad when you were little. I wasn’t diagnosed yet then, and I didn’t know what was going on with me, but I knew it was very bad. I thought–I honestly thought–that you would be better off without me. Drugs and alcohol are also a part of my story, but I stopped doing that many years ago. I was self-medicating because they made me feel more normal, but then I got addicted to them and it was a disaster. I finally got diagnosed as bipolar in 2015, and was then able to get help with medication But I was already involved in the criminal justice system by then, and my life continued to be very bad. I had no support from anyone, and I was alone. I tried and tried to be allowed to stay in your life, but your father and my parents had decided by then that I wasn’t good for you, so they spent the next 10 years keeping you away from me. We went to court several times, but I always lost because I didn’t have an attorney and they both did.

I never wanted to stay away from you, but my mental health wasn’t stable, and they didn’t want me around you. They thought they were doing what was best for you.

I have a better handle on my mental health now, psychotic episodes still happen to me, and then the police come to arrest me, and then I commonly fight with then because I don’t want to be arrested, and then I end up in prison. I have no memory of these events, and I have no control over them.

Bipolar disorder is a disease that has to do with chemical imbalances in the brain. People cannot help whether they have a mental illness or not. Sometimes I have to be hospitalized in a psychiatric hospital so they can change my medication and stabilize me.

I’m telling you this because I believe that you deserve to know, and not as some excuse for my behavior. This is a reason, not an excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you deserve an explanation.

I hope you are okay. If you ever decide you want to talk to me, I would be overjoyed. If you wanted to write back, you could, using the Florida address on the front of the envelope.

I love you.

Mom

I don’t even know if Dubya will give that letter to her. I don’t know if I should even mail it. I’m sure Dubya will take issue with it, but it’s the truth.

The last part of the book, “Unfair,” says that according to recent research, problem-solving courts that aid in perpetrators apologizing to victims and facilitating forgiveness by victims of the people who committed the crimes are far more effective than punishment. 

Makes sense.

We teach our kids to apologize and forgive, but adults we lock in cages? THAT doesn’t make any sense. Okay, that’s the end of that book. Onto a new book:

“Interrupted Life: Experiences of Incarcerated Women in the United States by Rickie Solinger, Paula C Johnson, Martha L. Raimon, Tina Reynolds, and Ruby C. Tapia © 2010.

Of course, on the first page it says that women prisoners have increased 700 percent since 1977. Some other stats: The majority of incarcerated women are poor, African American or Latina, are there due to nonviolent or drug offenses, are not educated, are mothers, and have had childhood trauma resulting in mental/physical health problems and histories of substance abuse.

No kidding.

6:38pm

Lockdown. I talked to Superman and King–they were watching some princess movie and eating chicken wing dip. They’re building a new tree fort. Apparently there was a fight over on M Unit, that’s why we’re locked down.

Muncy State Prison

May 19th, 2024

Sunday

7:18pm

Not much happened today. Bambi has had the shits for three days, and now Daisy is feeling nauseated. I feel like I’m next. I worked on Bambi’s story a little bit today, and I can’t believe what an incredible idiot she was for believing this guy she was with for so long when she kept catching him in lies over and over and OVER again.

Whatever.

I told her I’d write the story, so I’m writing it.

Muncy State Prison

May 20th, 2024 

Monday

4:17pm

I got ahold of Motorcycle–he hasn’t been feeling well. He’s having dizzy spells and headaches. He also says I’ve ruined him because he never cared about anyone enough to be lonely for them before, and now he’s lonely.

Awe. Sweet.

7pm Lockdown. Fighting.

Categories
Life

Fuck My Life

4/4/24

Thursday

10am

I talked to my mother. Apparently Paul wasn’t the one who called the police. He did call her though, to find out what was going on with me. My mother says the people feeding me information are wrong. She asked Paul not to contact Stryder, and he said that he wouldn’t. My mother says that Stryder loves drama.

Of course he does.

She says I had visitation with the boys on the day I got arrested the second time, and talked to the CYS worker, none of which I remember. I hope I didn’t say anything crazy to the boys.

Fuck. 

This is scary. It’s scary because it’s not like I can stop doing something (like drugs) or start doing something (like meds or therapy) and the crazy will stop. 

I wrote my mother:

Mom, 

I just talked to you. I’m wondering many things. Things like why did you call the police on me instead of CRISIS or an ambulance? Why didn’t you come get me and take me to the hospital? Especially if you were worried about my safety?

The police hate me. 

You know the police hate me.

My hand is still swollen, why wrist is damaged, and I have road rash marks on me still from where they dragged me to the car by the handcuffs. This is after beating on me and tasing me twice. 

Police lead to jail, prison, or death. 

That’s it.

They aren’t going to help me. Why do you not seem to know this?

All you’ve ever done is use my mental illness against me to make my life even worse than it already is. Why don’t you ever help me? I cannot control this, and it’s getting more scary as I age. It’s not like I can stop doing something (like drugs) or start doing something (like meds or therapy) and the crazy will stop. Please stop acting like it’s some sort of behavior problem I can control if I try hard enough. Stop punishing me for it. You’ve been punishing me for over 40 years. 

When does it stop?

I’m doing the best I can. I go to all of my appointments. I see a psychiatrist monthly and a therapist weekly. I take my medication. I don’t use drugs. I work. What more do you want from me? Stop using my mental illness against me. Stop calling the police on me. I don’t know what else to say to you. 

If you cared about me at all, or if you were “on my side,” you would do this.

–Justine

Paul, 

I don’t know what to say to you. I talked to my mother today and she says she’s the one who called the police. I’m trying to piece this story together, because I don’t remember any of it. I want to know why nobody called CRISIS or an ambulance? Why don’t people help me instead of calling the police? The police came and tased me, dragged me, and beat me up. 

Next time, they’ll probably just shoot me. 

This is scary. It’s scary because it’s not like I can just stop doing something (like drugs) or start doing something (like meds or therapy) and the crazy will stop. I had a visit with my boys on Wednesday that I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything until the 29th, when I came to in Clarion Psych.

I want to know what happened. I’m going to have to explain this to a judge and the Parole Board.

Please write back by letter or kiosk (connectnetwork.com) and let me know if I can call you.

–Justine

8:23pm

I talked to Superman. King was sleeping at 7pm. I hope he’s okay. Burgundy finally told me that she thought I was “prejudiced” because I was talking about interviewing more “people of color.” She doesn’t seem to understand that that’s the term people use when they’re NOT racist.

*sigh*

I’m sure she told everyone on the Block too. It’s no wonder people hate me. I apologized for her perception of me and said I wasn’t meaning to come off that way. Things seem okay now.

She reminds me more and more of Sassypants, who told me I act like I think I’m better than everyone else. Like–why am I responsible for your perceptions? Can people really blame me for being miserable? I hear “Fix your face,” all day long. I tend to think to myself, “Of course I’m miserable!! Why the fuck are you so fucking HAPPY?! We’re in GODDAMN PRISON STUPID!!”

Burgundy says I need to find a positive reason for being here. I said I can’t . She says I could have gotten hit by a car or burned down my house if I wasn’t here. This reminds me of the “it could be worse” people when Ethan and Kaylee died. I remember writing in my journal something like, “Is it supposed to make me feel better to imagine somebody who has it WORSE than me??! How does THAT work?”

Fuck my life. 

At least I have a radio and Pink is singing to me. 

There’s my fucking gratitude. 

Are you happy now??

Can you leave me the fuck alone now??!

Categories
Life

Prison blog #2–“Frankie”

Life in Muncy State Prison

Interview

“Frankie”

Age: 36 years

Female

White

2 children

From Fayette County

History of trauma/abuse?

Yes, physical, emotional, sexual abuse as a child, domestic violence as an adult

History of addiction?

Yes, started getting high at 7 years old, drinking and smoking weed. Went to foster care from 11-16 years old, then moved in with Dad, started using again. Trauma led to addiction. Five children in family–state came and took to foster care because of truancy–

“I wouldn’t go to school. I was embarrassed of my upbringing and family situation.”

History of mental illness?

Yes, Muncy State Prison diagnosed with Unspecified Bipolar, PTSD, anxiety disorder–no psych meds.

Has never been on psych meds unless in jail.

Frankie does not believe she’s bipolar–drug use precludes bipolar symptoms. When she is clean, she does not have psych symptoms.

How much time have you spent incarcerated in your lifetime?

6-7 years

This time?

5/8/24 will be 3 years

What happened?

Ate a pressed Xanax baar, doesn’t remember events. Got in car, crashed the car, went in other lane, hit a stopped car with an elderly couple in it. Fell asleep at the wheel, 64mph impact, 76-year old woman died on impact, 77-year old man life-flighted. 

Frankie walked off the scene of the crash, hid, switched clothes. Found a garage with a car in it, took keys, stole car. Ended up at home, got drugs, stuffed drugs (in vagina and rectum), called police.

Sentenced to 15-30 years in prison.

Originally offered a 10-20 year sentence, judge election year–then offered 15-30 years.

How were you treated?

“The judicial system is unfair. When it comes to my victim and his family, it’s fair. I’ve never been mistreated by police. I’ve always had a paid good attorney. I’ve been given ample opportunities to get my shit together.”

What are your plans for the future?

“Initially, all I thought about was Cambridge Springs [Correctional Institution], but it’s best for me to stay here. I want to help my brother build houses. The Maintenance Program here is teaching me a lot. I want to do plumbing, welding, HVAC, etc. And I want to do the Puppy Program. My kids have been adopted by friends. My Dad was my best friend, and he passed away six months after I came to jail. I have a friend who is a very good support to me.”

Are you worried about using drugs in the future?

“No. I don’t think I’m going to go home and relapse. My hands killed somebody. I have a lot of remorse. I’m never going to be able to enjoy getting high again.”

What do you do for fun?

“I chop it up with this bitch right here (points to cellie, Kimberly). I have a few boyfriends. They keep it interesting. I don’t really know what I do for fun on the outside.”

Anything else you want people to know about you?

“My late Aunt said about me that I have the ability to see beauty in anybody. I look for the good parts in the majority of people. I find the light and focus on that.”