March 2, 2012
Dear Renelle,
Suddenly, or so it seems, I find myself in an agonizingly tension-filled time of waiting. One week is allowed from time of offense to delivery of a D-R, and now they've got until the 4th for my first one. Not that I've never gotten a D-R prior to this; what I mean by first one is the first of a possible series of them. I'll clear up my reasoning for writing on this form, if I can. My short-sightedness in being sent to confinement with no envelopes/stamps/paper sort of breeds other uses for the many forms I've got access to. I spoke to the Investigator, explained my version of the events on the evening in question are unreliable, and expressed my wish(es) to retract the accusation(s) I made. I could tell this saddled him with a dilemma, but don't know what type it is/was. So, it is completely out f my ability to change the end result now.
On that happy note, I'm continuing to heal, though not as rapidly as once would've been, or that would be an ideal case. A nurse who looked at me right after, I heard telling a guard while I was still unable to see very well, that some of the guards put in place to watch over violent and unpredictable inmates lack training as to what steps to take under a crisis situation. I haven't seen that nurse since. It's safe to say that, being an "old hand" at the confinement routine, one would easily think I should get a break once in a while. Do I? I can't answer the question without equivocating at length, which I won't do, as it sickens me. Let me cut to my answer du jour: No. If anything, more is demanded of me in light of my capabilities. Totally unfair, but then I remain unconsulted.
Regarding my dietary habits: Somehow I was put on a "2,800 calorie diet" which I don't even pretend to know anything about. I suspect my words of grievance regarding the amounts of food on the trays have filtered down to the kitchen manager's ears--backed by looming complaints about quality, and before I knew it, I suddenly have what I need. Now, if I could figure out how to get salt. I guess I would deprive myself of the benefits of the jail/prison experience, though, if I did.
Close(r) to the end of the 8-4 shift now, and it looks like a day (important day, too) closer to not getting a D-R and off the hook for whatever possessed the guard's mind to spray me. Words fail to describe the horribly misunderstood state I'm in now, with release merely a ticking clock away from me. For, if the powers controlling my fate don't agree that I should be in confinement, as nothing will get done either Sat./Sun., then I'm out of here. Of course, not having a way to tell time presents some difficulty, yet my principle is sound.
I'm betting it was comical--my following the nurse's instructions that Sunday. My eyesight was still poor/breathing labored because of the spray. I wasn't to lay down because of blows to my head. I couldn't stand because both feet were badly bruised--and I wasn't at all sure I could sit either, as my body felt like a giant bruise too! I was in rough shape. The part I still don't think on without severe rage, is really two parts, why and how it all came about. One second I'm peacefully minding my own, and wham! I'm sprayed without cause the next. After I'd gone down because of blindness, they began hitting/kicking me. Don't think for a second I don't know I'm in a tough spot. I truly understand now about being in a no-win position.
3/3 now, and my mood is much improved. Taking an honest self-appraisal isn't easier just by the fact I can write my name. Also, what is true today possibly won't be true of me in six months. Oh well, not for the first time, I'm finding myself with a quite large inventory of rhetoric, but very limited media with which to convey it to anyone else.
Stay creative, and continue healing too!
The only bird that doesn't fly,
James (Jailbird)
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