Letter 44

June 16, 2011

Dear Mom,

I'm in a predicament and badly need help with getting it put right. Please call the Col. here on the phone and accept no substitutes...speak directly with the Col. himself. Ask him the following question: Why are the open-population inmates only permitted T.V. until 11 p.m. while C.M. inmates have to have it on until the middle of the day?

I'm on thin ice with this issue. It is a constant source of irritation; we are being subjected to an endless moronathon of rap music in here. If this problem can be resolved, my time here will proceed to an uneventful close. If you can't have a calm and rational discussion with the man, the time left will stretch out forever and I may come to grievous harm before I'm through with it. Harsh, but true...I'm just shooting blind here.

I've had about four hours sleep now, as I got some more sleep medication in me over night. A clearer picture of what nearly happened last night/yesterday is coming out now. Let me rewind so I can present it as it took place. As usual, I was awakened without having completed sleeping, but that was okay as long as we could pass a dorm inspection. I was able to sleep all day. Right. We had back to back inspections until 10:30 a.m. After the last one came through, we were forced to eat the lunch from the kitchen here, as I no longer have anything to doctor it with. Then, I got as comfortable as I could with all the noise here and a guy in a cell on one side started talking trash to a guy in another part of the building.

This happens daily. I believe the generally permissive ways of the guards here have more to do with it than anything. That put me in a mood, as I did not have access to ear plugs and no amount of ignoring it helped in this echo chamber. At that point, all I could do was to "wear it" and wait. In a state of sleep-deprivation, I'm thinking all sorts of crazy things by now. They let half the part of the building I am in come out and watch T.V., gamble, argue loudly, etc.

By no means is this intended to be a complete or accurate representation of what it's like here now, only a rough outline. I well know it isn't intended to be an environment catering to the individual needs of a wide variety of guys, all from different walks of life. It's getting to be more of a high tension environment than anything else, and with all the changes happening it is much easier to put oneself in a position of immediate harsh consequences now, more than ever before.

I'm waiting for the 4:00 p.m. shift now. It is 3:30 p.m. already...similar to the way I was when paying a doctor out of my meager funds for medicine to allow me to get over an illness faster. I know it's needed, but very risky to do. Depending on who the barber is, I may or may not have a haircut/shave done. I think I got the entire wing angry enough to fight me, if they could, over night. I'll definitely have to watch myself to/from the shower when we get access to them on the next shift.

Getting more practiced in maintaining the illusion of normalcy here. Been reading the book by D. Millman, No Ordinary Moments some. I guess I must not be spiritually advanced enough to put the majority of his ideas into action. I get the gist of what he teaches, reminding myself of what I know and other teachings...but for the lessons I require more practice as they are still theoretical to me. Although, I am able to grasp the concepts easily enough. I further speculate the most needed part of the picture is the tincture of time.

The latest crew of hostiles is slowly replacing the faces I'd come to expect seeing most days. The tincture at work.

Just got the latest letter from you and am letting Jesus read the part where you mentioned his friend. Bless him, he really hung in with me during one of my crises. Told me just enough to where I didn't require a showing of force/spraying, but knows not to carp at me.

I'll get on the visitation forms ASAP and with haste. You can only imagine how much I would enjoy seeing my daughter! It is sad that I missed out on so much of her life, but I'm determined not to be an absentee dad anymore.

I remember exactly the situation, if not the exact year, I got a G.E.D. It was while I was whacked, but in Topeka at Menninger's, not Louisiana. Wow, that takes me back to the good ol' days. I just didn't realize it.

Can't imagine what is going through Shawn's mind. Yes, I remember him well.

I've got more to write, but time is not on my side. I need to get this into the outbound mail so it will survive the weekend. More to follow...

Much love,
James