In true military fashion, Captain hit the floor early this morning. And when she stepped out of her door the lights came on so that she could see her poster. When I tell you her tears flowed for what seemed like twenty minutes. She was so happy. She said, “This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time. You all are stuck with me for life.”

One thing I have noticed is that the ladies who have left [this place] all seem to go through a stage of anxiousness; mainly because they have no idea what they want to do or what they are going to do once they get out. As a matter of fact, I have been asking a lot of people here what they feel is missing, and many say re-entry prep. They feel like we take classes just to check a box, but overall they are not being given the tools and skills to help them re-enter society successfully.

When I first arrived, my body was in so much pain. My knee hurt, my wrist was swollen, and I was overweight. I came up with a term to describe the weight I put on, “case weight.” So many women spoke about how much weight they had gained once they caught their cases. That was me too. Once I found out that I was under investigation and could possibility go to prison, mentally, emotionally, and physically I fell apart. Honestly speaking, I did not want to live. I wore my anxiety and pain on my body.

There had to be at least twenty of us standing outside waiting for the girls. When they opened the car door and stepped out, we were going crazy. Jumping, waving, clapping, and of course...crying. Not just me, ALL OF US. There was not a dry eye out there

After three months, I finally get to see my girls. OMG! I am over the moon right now. There is so much I want to say and to talk about. I can't wait to hear about everything that has been going on in their lives.

This Monday, I noticed myself getting a little irritated and moody. I decided to leave my room and find a space where I could work on my business plans. I also got in a workout and journaled. I kept wondering why my mood had shifted and I really could not put my finger on it. At first I thought I was jealous, so I explored that emotion. But, that wasn't quite it. After having a conversation with my friend, I realized that I may be more of an empath than I may have realized.

We had a situation/conversation/disagreement, etc. about the use of the N word and who is allowed to use it; not me per se, but the individuals on my hall. More specifically, some of the Black girls on my hall found the use of the word offensive coming from one of the Puerto Rican girls. This sparked a small debate. I, in true PhD form, needed some facts.

When he initiated the recount, I knew it was his way of getting revenge for the giggling and smiling. As he walked down the hall, he stopped in front of one person and asked what her smile was for. She responded, "so we aren't allowed to smile?" This obviously pissed him off even more. Just when we thought the coast was clear, just when I returned to my room to finish reading my paper, he yelled, "Clear the hall. We are having a shake down." SMH. As I packed up my room and walked past the officers, he then said, "I love shake downs, I want to smile too."

Once the signal was given, Queen then took her walk down the long path, through the barbed wire fence that she entered earlier this year. As the van drove off, we looked back and waved. Her smile was so big as she waved her graceful goodbye. The tears began to fill my eyes. I just couldn't contain myself. I guess the others felt the same because they began to cry as well. Wow. Just like that, Queen was free.

Outside of me missing home, I just really feel alone. I miss my family and friends so much. I mainly miss the ocean deep conversations that I had with someone almost daily. The conversations where I could just talk, with no judgement, no holding back, and I could just be myself. Here, I feel alone. I watch my words and interactions with people.

I am not just this super professional, uptight nerd that everyone thinks I am. Even here people say things like…"you seem like you have it all together," "you are so sophisticated," "you are smart," and "I feel like I need to be quiet and Zen when I am around you." I don't always know how to take that because that is just one aspect of me. I think I have worn that mask so long that I really don’t know how to take it off.

My new bunkie is not good for my health. She has been down for a while and she knows all of the prison cuisine recipes. Nightly, instead of going to the chow to eat, I am greeted with a hearty and fattening meal in my room. The heater came on a couple of days ago, so the prison kitchens are wide open.

I saw the smiles, heard the laughter, witnessed the tears, and listened closely to the words that poured from the hearts of women who traveled with them through one of life's most challenging times. At one point I was reminded that this moment is temporary. That each one of us would one day say our goodbyes. I imagined us one by one vanishing away. I was reminded that we are souls embodied in flesh and one day our spirits would continue on our travels. 

This past week has been filled with a lot of emotions from anxiety, anger, relief, joy, disappointment, and clarity. For me, I am just grateful. I am grateful that if there was ever a better time to go to federal prison, it is now and that I am able to receive the benefits of the FSA; this means I will not have to serve my full term incarcerated.

Last night I received word that my dog of 14 years had to be put down. My mom told me that he was sick a few days ago. She thought he had a cold. Apparently, it was much more serious. He was suffering from heart failure. Needless to say, reading that email was devastating. Not only because he was gone, but mainly because I was not at home to comfort my family, especially my girls. I felt, and still feel, helpless. 

Even on the inside, everything is a hustle. You need your room cleaned? You can get it. You need your laundry done? Check. Braids? Check. Pedicure? Check. Massage? Check. Everything on the inside, just like the outside, has a price tag on it.

The smile on her face, the brightness in her eyes, how the wind was in her hair, but more than anything the tears that streamed down her face. As she hugged me she just kept saying, "thank you." I was so emotional. But when she said, "I have to call my mom and tell her I did it. I finally did something right," was the moment my tears began to flow.

Today, before one lady left she came to my classroom looking for her friend, who is my student. She hugged a few people and told them goodbye and that she loved them. You could tell that it was a bitter sweet moment. Yes, she was ready to go home, but at the same time she created bonds with the women she was locked up with. These bonds are strong because these women have seen you at your worst. In here, you are naked, no mask. There is only you in your most vulnerable state.

Honestly, this time has been a much needed break for me mentally. I am realizing just how run down and tired I really was. Most of it was because of the stress of the case. Today, on my 60 day anniversary, I got up, did laundry, and went back to bed until 2pm. At home I would have never done this. Here, I give myself permission to do nothing.

In order for us to exit, I had to climb one flight of stairs to get to the main floor. As soon as I entered the stairwell I knew there was something strange happening. When I finally reached the outside of the building, just outside of the green sea of prison uniforms, I saw a van approaching the building. Then out of the van an army of guards exited and told us to line up in a single file line. That is when the fun began.