To My Incarcerated Child

By Anonymous Mom

This is how incarceration affects your family.

Losing a child to incarceration feels like we are serving time on the inside. Life as we know it has forever changed from one WRONG decision and you can’t take it back.

It’s a grieving process which includes denial, anger, sadness, and at some point we just have to accept it. To add to this, we are humiliated, isolated, and abandoned by choice, your choice. Then there is guilt which gives us a poor self concept.

All of these stages of the grieving process can overlap and cause a state of anxiety and depression.

Denial

How can you do this? How does your family feel?

You’ve robbed your family from having you in their life and you’ve robbed yourself from your family and friends.

Sadness

I am sad for all those that don’t see themselves or their families as better than this.

We don’t get to see you go through high school, go watch you play your favorite sport, teach you to drive a car, or get your DL.

Years of a life have been wiped away. Your family is more important than that.

Isolation

We have lost friends over this; either they don’t know what to say or they just associate me as a prison mom.

Humiliation

We suffer humiliation from public stigmatism and media bashing. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve read or heard Where’s the parents? Charge them too! What?? People, we were sleeping just like you!

Guilt

As a mom I wonder what did I not do right? I must have failed as a parent. If only I had not gone to bed that night.

How this affects YOU

In prison, you no longer get to be a teen.

There’s no DL, dating, school dances, prom, graduation, school football games, things you should enjoy as a teen.

Life on the outs goes on and life freezes on the in.

Time flies but stands still at the same time.

“The Possibilities”

I remember when you were a baby and I held you in my arms and dreamed of all the possibilities. This is not how I’d ever dreamed it would be, but it is what it is.

I cry more than you know. I sleep less than you think and I pray as much as I can. I’m still dreaming of all the possibilities.

Don’t ever give up. I haven’t I’ve loved you before you were born.

Love,

Mom

 

We love you, too Anonymous Mom. And we won’t give up.

Christopher

 

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Stronger Together by Christopher

 

 

 

 

Stronger Together

Back in early 2019 when I started this blog I simply wanted to write about the things I experienced behind these walls. I wrote partly because it was self-therapy, my way of coping with prison life, and partly because I wanted to feel a connection to the outside world. I wanted to know that I wasn’t a forgotten human like so many of us are behind these walls. I didn’t think anyone would be interested in what I had to say save for a smattering of family and friends.

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Turkey Patty Night By Scott Strothers

Turkey Patty Night                                                             Scott Strothers

 

Forward                                                                                                                       By Christopher

Prison food is notorious for being inedible. One of the great scams perpetrated on the public are prison menus. They read like an a la cart offering of pleasantries: cheeseburger with tater tots; spaghetti with garlic bread and salad; breakfast burritos, juice and milk; turkey patty with ketchup, green beans, and fries. In actuality, the food purchased is of the lowest quality, least inexpensive, sourced

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The Walk to New Beginnings by Cara Bailey

Tuesday May 3, 2022.

Hearts beating, minds racing, excitement, sadness, anticipation, anxiety. Thoughts of What if I don’t make it out there? What if I fail? What if I relapse? All these crazy feelings and thoughts. With every step I took, all the way to the vault. My chest was getting tighter. I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t want to leave everything I’ve known since (1/12/17). But is was MY TURN to go finally. My time for freedom.

The wait for my county to arrive to pick me up was excruciating. I was nervous, my stomach hurt. Then the walk to the van came. I was taking in everything (every little detail, mental photographs). The one person I needed to see but couldn’t. It’s not her turn yet. But it’s okay. I know she loves me. This is just as hard for me as it is for her.

I’m sitting in the sheriff’s van watching out the windows. My stomach is in knots. I’m nervous, excited, emotional. I can taste freedom from within these handcuffs and shackles. The whole ride I am car sick. Keeping my head between my legs. Feeling like I’m going to die.

Once I arrived to my county jail I was feeling fine. I spent 8 hours in booking. That was boring. You can only count the bricks on the wall so many times. I sat in a hard chair the whole time, through a storm, through my own sleepiness. I kept asking the guard “How much longer?” I kept getting the same response: Soon. Finally, after 8PM, they took me to A block.

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