It’s silent this morning. My favorite time of the day here. Girls can be loud, they talk about themselves a lot, and in here, you can see people portraying their lives with false happiness and drama. I like to stay quiet and observe. I never really talk about myself or my outside life because I know it’s not what they want to hear and they don’t really care. In jail, a girl who changes her whole life and is living well isn’t very appealing…dramatic stories are appealing, something they can relate to.
They call me “princess” on the inside…it’s more an insult then a compliment as you would expect. No one wants to ever be called a princess after the age of 12 unless maybe Prince William is your husband.
Morning is kind to me. Morning is a time where they like to sleep in till 12pm if they can make it to then so half the day is gone. If I ever sleep in till then, my bones start to snap and crackle and my body gets really weak—feels dehydrated.
Morning is a time where I sneak in a little yoga and exercise, the only time when I am not stopped with the questions about what body parts I’m working and then proceeding to telling me a story about how they used to be skinny and pretty too.
I’m not used to my body being this soft. I’m not used to feeling skin and bones where I used to only feel muscle. I’m not used to my brain tricking me into thinking I’m fat because most my muscles have subsided to cushion. I have to remember that I am beautiful just as I am and that all of this is temporary. I wish all these girls would feel the same but here in jail, there are no scales, no full body mirrors, just your crazy little brain and these baggy clothes. Every meal is a different form of carbohydrates and it’s hard to keep healthy when every meal is bread, mashed potatoes, spaghetti noodles, cake and canned peas. But when I read about third world countries and when I think about the alternative to sobriety….it really could be worse and I need to just be grateful.
Spending 90 days in here is like being in a social experiment…we are given this food and everyone trades it around, fights over the sugar items and asks you if you’re going to eat certain items before you’ve even decided for yourself. Then the rest of it-they hide under their beds.
You can really see the raw human behavior come out of people in a place like this. Girls come in, girls go— some come in as victims which is like putting a target on you saying “please, bully me”. Then there are some in here for their 5th, 6th, 7th times and I know it won’t be their last…they know the ropes around here and all the guards names, and aren’t phased by a thing. Some are here for just a few days and others, for a few months. Many come in kicking heroin so you have to listen them scream and cry and sweat and curse God but people like them because they usually don’t eat at all so people steal their food. I didn’t realize there were also so many adult bullies. I’ve never been one to get bullied nor have I been one to do that to others but in here I see it all.
I hope someday the light switch goes off for some in here….I hate hearing that they have huge families only to have broken relationships and their relatives take custody over their kids while the women continue this lifestyle.
All of this reminds me that all of this–allllll of it—is a learning experience. I am sober today, I have the best family, friends and work-family in the world and without all this support, I may be still challenging life and choosing an unhealthy existence. In the morning I am reminded that it’s a new day and I have the choice to be a victim or a positive force of light to inspire others.
