Freedom

On July 4, 1776, fifty-six delegates of the Continental Congress ratified the Declaration of Independence, declaring our intention to become free states separate from the rule of the British Empire. 

I got my independence on June 11, 2011.

Growing up in the United States, I believe that many of us take our freedom for granted.  Most of us  wake up in the morning at the time we choose to wake.  We go to the kitchen and choose what to eat and when to eat it.  We go to the jobs of our choice, talk on the phone without time limits and travel freely.  As of January 1, 2010, 1,612,171 men and women in Federal and State prisons did not have these freedoms. In May  of that year, I became one of them.

For five months, I was told when to wake and sleep, what to eat, what to wear and where to go work for 12 cents per hour.  My calls were subject to approval and limited to 15 minutes.  I rarely got out of bed in the middle of the night to use the bathroom out of fear of interrupting  count time and being punished by having what little contact I had with the outside world be taken from me.  During five more months on house arrest, I was limited in my travel, had to call my PO if I wanted to pick up extra shifts at work and was completely stressed if I knew I was going to be even one minute late getting home at my federally approved curfew.

Never again will I say that I'm having a bad day because, I lived with 300 women who have bad days everyday for years.

The end of my 10 month sentence was celebrated this weekend with many good friends.  It was a long and wonderful day.  As tired as I was, I stayed out until 5 am strictly because I could.

Now I live in a different prison. It's a prison created in my mind, because I am still having a hard time putting 11 years behind me.  No matter where I go, or who I'm with, I still think of him.  I can't escape the memories I have and the pain that comes with them. 

I've lost my career, my freedom and the man I wanted to spend my life with. I've had many labels in my lifetime:  daughter, sister, aunt, friend, girlfriend and teacher.  Now I add a new label: FELON.

So what do I do now?  The only thing I can do.... take each day as it comes and rebuild my life.  As an inmate, my choices were limited, but not anymore. 

The next time you have a "bad day", consider this:  Most of you don't live with 300 people who share 20 toilets and showers.  You went into your closet and had a multitude of colors to choose from.  You most likely didn't wait in line for 45 minutes to have a Chef's salad for dinner (only served once every 5 weeks).  You talked on the phone without a friendly recorded message reminding you that the call was being made by an inmate in a Federal prison.  You smoked your cigarette or drank your beer on the comfort of a couch.  Your coffee actually tasted GOOD.  You hugged your children, kissed your significant other and maybe took a parent out to lunch.  You had the freedom to make choices.

So really..... how was your day?