Hell that I Created

The battle to overcome addiction for me is the same as the battle to be mature and to remember that I am the only person or thing that I can control and those are my actions, perspective and how I conduct myself in a variety of situations, both positive and negative as I battle within to keep a cool head.

Everyday I am confronted with a vast array of opportunities to behave as a beast or child. I am surprised at how easily I succumb to the negative, even if I don't outwardly show it. I do not use illicit drugs or alcohol in here to cope, so all I experience is raw emotion that is not blunted by any kind of mind altering substance. If I don't get out of the shu, I will come out of this experience 'worse for wear".

I crave a conventional life, to be happy with Julie, my family and to enjoy the innocuous things most others enjoy as law-abiding citizens, even if that comes with routine and the some boredom that accompanies a stable existence. If there is someone out there who is wealthy, Julie and I need a little relief.

A day in the life in the shu: I have to keep disinfectant with me and mop my floor daily and I wipe down my toilet with disinfectant and toilet paper after each time I urinate. I have a coffee mug that I made with a milk carton, paper and the cloth from the inside of a state prison shoe.

I have a piece of a pen filler that I broke off and that serves as a tongue ring. I have pieces of a straw in my nose and ears and all of that is considered contraband. I use hair grease as lotion, tooth powder and deodorant that I have wrapped in plastic wrap, which again, is contraband.

Since I am in Ad-Seg I never leave my cell without being hand-cuffed. I do have photos on my wall of those out there I love, such as Julie & I, Julie, Mom, Sis, Step-Dad and my grand-parents. I have a picture of my father and my paternal sister from a magazine. I do not have any photos of Michael Elias Brown and it is unlikely that he will visit me while I am in prison.

I don't exercise much; I look forward to eating and receiving mail. I can spend $55/mo and I really need that amount, but since it is only Mom providing funds for me, I can only spend $25/mo. Small things like getting an extra cookie, a few pieces of bread ends up being very important during one of my mundane and yet very painful days of just existing.

Now my doctor says that my blood pressure is in the stroke range and my initial response is, "Ha. Oh well". Oh yeah, DVI has roaches the size of my thumb, so I clean continuously to keep them from occupying the cell with me. There are no mirrors in the this cell, the water is nasty...oh yeah, my toothbrush is all of 2 inches long. And my "pillow" is made out of a sheet and bunch of extra laundry. This is home?!?!

Where is home? Am I alone? Julie, Mom, Boo-Boo, Big Daddy, Garvin, Rissa...they aren't here.