Saturday, October 1, 2011
So, jail is and isn't like what you see on television or in the movies. In 2006, I had the pleasure of being locked up in South Lake Tahoe, El Dorado County, California and the displeasure of being locked up in Yerington, Lyons County, Nevada. In the Tahoe jail I made friends and worked in the laundry. There was a sense of camaraderie I didn't expect but came to appreciate and was grateful for. Having never been in trouble before and certainly never in jail before I did not know what to expect and was frightful going in. But, I soon lost my fear and became integrated into the life of the women's pod. I must give a shout out to the COs (correctional officers) of El Dorado County because though they took their jobs seriously they did not treat the inmates with contempt or disrespect. I applied for and was given a job in the laundry which made my five months there fly by. I worked from 7:00 am to 6:00 pm six days a week. With a job there are privileges, such as, a private cell, an extra mattress, pillow, and blanket, and regular coffee while working. We were also given food stuff and sundries without having to purchase them and we were able to watch television and listen to the radio. Of course, jail meant orange suits, cavity searches, and hand and ankle cuffs but these were tolerable in El Dorado County. Lyon County Jail was a different story. From the minute the transport officer arrived till the time I was released there was nothing redeeming about Lyon County Jail. The cavity search was demeaning and black and white uniform, three sizes too big and raggedy, made one feel like a member of a chain gang. The COs were verbally abusive. The female pod was small and packed with inmates sleeping in the day room on pads once the bunks were full. An inmate was not allowed to speak until spoken too and had to face the wall when a CO was in the pod. The COs were all men and sexually harrassed the female inmates. One day an inmate asked if it were snowing outside and the CO said "no, but it can snow inside." Then he, and two other COs, brought in cans of Comet Cleanser and covered everything, and I mean everything, with a thick layer of white cleanser. We then had to clean it up. It took hours to clean and in that time we were not allowed to rest or have anything to eat or drink. The women incarcerated with me in Lyon County were not the same temperament that I had met in El Dorado County. They were harder and less apt to accept a new person into the fold. I stayed in my cell the majority of the time and read. Though I spent only two months in Lyon County it seemed longer than my time in El Dorado. It was during my time in jail that Mike relapsed for the first time and so I didn't see him or talk to him often. My only visitor, other than Mike, in El Dorado was my second daughter who visited once. In Lyon County I had no visitors and the only person I talked to was my son. I did correspond by mail to my family outside and am grateful for all the support I received. Though I am regretful of my actions that led to my incarceration I am grateful for the experience and for the psychiatric help I received inside. I was put back on meds and my mania was managed. It was inside El Dorado Jail that I made my first contact with the therapist that I would see for the next six months and she was wonderful in helping me to come to terms with what had happen. I was put on probation and part of probation was participating in the Behavior Health Court program. This program was designed for offenders with mental health issues and monitors the progress of those in the program as they transition back into their regular lives. My time in the program was invaluable as I came out of jail without a job, close to losing my apartment, and into a relationship with Mike who was fully in his meth and alcohol addiction. The time since then has been filled with ups and downs and I am still trying to find a way to be at peace with myself. This is what this blog is about, my finding peace with myself again, my forgiving myself, and my finding a place to call home.
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