Keeping Sanity In Prison

This is my second prison talk on line, the first one about the visit of the Iraqi Officials generated lots of questions. Mostly I was asked if we saw the visitors. Yes, we saw them, they even ate the same food as we and in a designated area inside our dining hall; they also walked inside our housing units; further, an inmate was the one who was driving the van with the visitors. She is a very pretty, tall, slender, blue eyed, blonde haired girl. I asked her if the Iraqi visitors spoke to her, she said that they only said "hi". I wonder what they thought about her. Within the Iraqi visitors was an Iraqi female and she was wearing her Muslim Religious outfit (Sari-Dupata(veil)). I wonder if she asked why her religious sister (Muslim-prisoners) at Coleman-Camp were not wearing the Sari or Dupata. I was also asked about my fellow prisoner who did not know who Osama Bin Laden was. Well she really does not know who Bin Laden is; she is truly a character. Actually she is the only fellow prisoner that I have allowed to joke/play with me for the first time in my nearly 10 years of incarceration. She does not know where north or south is; nor who George Bush is; when you question her, she answered that her brain has been burned down by drugs, that she has taken so much drug that there is not a single hole in her body that has not tasted drugs; she is in her 40's; very funny looking (almost toothless--having only 4 decaying eyeteeth-- two in the top and two in bottom), straight unkempt hair, she wears big very big clothes, she sometimes talks like a child, others like a retard and rarely normal, but she is always smiling. She is so freaking funny looking that when you see that old very wrinkled toothless big smiling face you must laugh. I am going to call her Be-Be, sometimes Be-Be talks loud all day long and drives all of us crazy and we beg her to stop the talking. We must tell her that we love her in order for her to stop the talking. Two weeks ago was her birthday and some of the girls prepared a surprise for her and decorated her cubicle with banners, balloons, roses, notes, flowers-- everything made out of paper (we prisoners must practice our imagination). Lots of birthday cards were placed on top of her lockers. When she returned from her job detail she was so happy that she cried and cried and said that no one had ever made her feel so special. Those moments of kindness among us is one of my tools to keeping my sanity in this very cruel environment. Believe me it is very, very hard to avoid psychiatric injuries inside prison. Sometimes I wonder if all mentally ill people are inside prison, or if all human beings have some kind of mental disability. Other times I wonder if I am mentally ill too. We are over 100 in each unit, 2 per cubicle. A regular day begin like this: at 3:15 a.m. the alarm clocks begin ringing every 15 minutes from different cubicles (for some of us to take showers and about the line at 6:00 a.m.); so from 3:15 a.m. until 7:00 a.m. you hear Ring... Ring....Ring....Ring....Ring... from all different directions; you put ear-plugs on; cover your face with blankets or pillows and still you hear the Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring...You have no other option than get-up and to face over 100 people with different characters or mental illness. I already mentioned Be-Be; there is another one that says that she is Bi-polar; I am going to call her Li-Li. One day she smiles to you, ask about your children, offer coffee and the next day if you try to say hello she scream at you and says, " What are you looking at me for? What is wrong with you?"; so you never know when to say hello or ignore her. There is also another one who keeps claiming that she is getting the wrong medicine; she is a tall, white, slim lady, and also an animal lover. She does not talk to anybody. She walks very, very slowly with lost vision and looks like a zombie. I am going to call her Mi-Mi. So when Mi-Mi walks through the narrow halls you must move, because she walks straight no matter what. There is also a 19 year old who was very drug addictive, and the authorities give her drugs (legal), I am going to call her Ta-Ta. She sleep all day and if she is not sleeping, she laughs and laugh for hours like a maniac. We have a few that scream all day long, they do not talk, they scream and very loudly. There are others who do not walk, just run all day back and forth inside those very narrow halls. The elderly who can hardly walk; the ills that can not make it to the bathroom and pee or poop themselves on their way to the bathroom. We have another one, the new born Christian, that reads the Bible all day (very loudly) and sing songs loud all day. I am going to call her Cha-Cha. When the late afternoon arrives, I am already exhausted looking forward for the sound of silent, but the reality is that there is never silent inside prison. Be-Be is talking and talking like a baby with no time to stop; Li-Li the Bi-polar is screaming to whoever passes by; Mi-Mi the Zombie is walking back and forth just looking but not talking; Ta-Ta is laughing loud for hours; Cha-Cha the religious singing loud; 3 or 4 screaming to each other from one end to the other having a conversation; and 2 or 3 more having sex and making noise in the next cubicle. This goes on until 12 midnight and when you are hoping to get into your first step of sleep, Mi-Mi the Zombie begins talking in her sleep very, very loudly. She talks to her animals (dogs, kitties, birds, etc) and she argues with her animals. Ta-Ta cries and cries in her sleep and fights with her dad and screams, "Dad please do not hurt me!" There is one from Israel that begins calling "ABBA ABBA" (is a Hebrew word for father) Cha-Cha speaks in tongues about Simon and Peter (in the Bible). Bi-Bi snores like a train. Li-Li the Bi-polar walk in their sleep, getting into others room and much, much more. This goes on for 2 or 3 hours; by that time the alarms clocks begin the ...Ring ...Ring ...Ring again. Sometimes I hardly can make it. I go to the bathroom, stand in front of the mirror and ask myself personal questions to see if I still remember who I am and how old I am. When crazy thoughts come to my mind I look for a priest or psychologist and I ask for a talk and at the end I ask them, "Do you think that I am still sane?"
If you have ever wondered why the percentage of recidivism rate in prisoners is so high, here is your answer: Living 5-10-15 years or more like this will leave real deep psychiatric injuries that will bar any human being from surviving in society. If prosecutors, judges or any of our lawmakers (senators and congressman) would spend a few days like my every day life for the last 10 years, they will change their mind about such draconian sentences for first-time non-violent offenders. My sons, the support of my family and the caring of all of you who have supported and helped me to keep contact with the outside world has definitely helped me to keep my sanity. I love you all. Yraida