reg's jail journals ... Sleepy Hollow Correctional Centre
Day 2 (October 29, 1998)
I woke today not feeling bitter. I have a certain level of acceptance of my situation. These are not the feelings that I had expected. But I am here so I may as well make the best of it.
Breakfast was at 8:00. I was able to get to speak to George M. in the kitchen (he is in one of the other units within max. We eat together but are locked in our separate units throughout the day). Anyway, George’s brother and I were roommates at Talbot House so I feel that I already know him. Actually, we did meet once before in a detox centre, where I helped him to escape. But that’s another story. He didn’t even remember the incident until I brought it up.)
George seems to be a good man (he try’s to see the best in people) … I was going to carry on a little further here but perhaps I should change the subject keeping in mind that outgoing and incoming mail / paperwork will be read by the guards and I shouldn’t make personal observations / judgements on other inmates.
I did some writing in the morning; a letter (rough draft) that I hope to present to the court to help explain my point of view. I find it easy to express my thoughts on paper and I get a wonderful feeling of satisfaction (pride?) upon completion (is this how a woman feels when she gives birth?? Probably that’s a little different, a bit more painful too!).
… just took a little break. I went down to ask the other guys if I could include them in my writing. Each person I meet affects my life and becomes part of my story. We are made up of our own experiences, are we not? There are others in my unit. One seems to be interested, but the others seem to be ok with it (“as long as you tell ‘em how good looking I am!”) We’ll be spending a lot of time together so it seems logical that we get to know each other. At the moment, I sit here writing and they are involved in a game of cards.
The canteen here is open on Mon., Wed., and Friday. Today is Thursday. The guards here made an exception and let me order some junk food today. I appreciate this. It’s nice that we can treat each other with at least some respect. There are a lot of other institutions where you don’t see that. They also allowed one of the other guys to order some tobacco, another nice gesture of goodwill toward your fellow man. I suppose that no matter what our occupations are, when we go home at night, people (we) are all basically the same, here and around the world as well. (now I must take a break. I would really like to enjoy a cigarette at this moment, and so I will).
I was speaking with one of my fellow inmates just now (I don’t know his name yet) and he was talking about his friend, Mark S., who lives in Moncton and is a close friend of a female friend of his. I related that I was in treatment with a guy named Mark who was transferred to a halfway house in Moncton. Same guy. Small world isn’t it. (But I wouldn’t want to paint it!)
All the other guys are gone to the gym now, so I sit here alone working on this (and watching “Class of the Angry Lovers” on Jerry Springer) Just a few minutes ago, I was in the office talking to my councilor (?), case worker (?) and the nurse about my situation. It’s quite complicated.
I was sentenced in June of this year to a 2 years less a day conditional sentence for the possession of cocaine for the purpose of trafficking to be served in the community with the final year to be served in Talbot House or Homewood Health Centre (Guelph, Ont) as recommended by Dr. Marjorie Jones. By using drugs in Talbot House, I was discharged from the house, thus breaching this condition. Dr. Jones has been out sick for the past 4-5 weeks (I haven’t been able to discuss my experience in Homewood, where I was in September and had some problems which played a part in my drug use last weekend) and I am unable to contact her. Therefore, I am sent here where I remain in limbo until I appear before the judge next Friday, November 6 for her final decision on the matter. I also have little confidence in my lawyer (former lawyer?) so I am feeling anxious and uncertain about the situation. Also, my court supervisor who should have been able to handle this situation yesterday, was out sick as well so the case (from his office) was taken over by one of his co-workers who I have never met before and this is probably unfamiliar with the case. All I can do now is wait for a call from the Legal Aid lawyer, who is, so far today, out of her office ...
... OK, I’m back again after a several hour break. You would think that I would be lying around doing nothing but so much has happened. My lawyer called. I spoke with her for a few minutes but she will have to get my files and meet with me at the first of the week. At least, I have some hope.
I also spoke on the phone with my probation officer, Gordon Garretty. I am unsure of what to say when talking to him because I don’t know exactly what his position is, who’s side he is on. I must remain guarded until I get this figured out. Strategy must be discussed first with my lawyer.
And I spoke with John back at Talbot House. I called him to make sure my belongings are collected for my family to pick up. I have a good relationship with John and having his brother George here on my side can only make things easier for me.
Prisoners are not allowed to make phone calls here on Thursdays and Sundays but somehow I was able to make several calls. The reason phone calls are not allowed on these days is because these are the days you can have visitors. But until you’ve been here ten days you can’t have visitors. So for the first 10 days, I am kind of … fucked.
They have quite an elaborate paperwork system here. Every time you wish to speak with anyone you have to fill out a request and wait for approval, which may take hours. I’m surprised that you don’t have to file a request to wipe your arse (but there’s still paper involved).
I forgot to mention supper. When I talked to John on the phone he told me that they had Chinese food for supper at Talbot House. Their meals are brought in from the jail here. Because the maximum unit, which I’m in, is the last to go to the dining room, the food at Talbot is delivered before we even get to eat. So I know what was for supper tonight a half hour in advance. Funny. Hmmm.
I received advice from some “jailhouse lawyers’ over supper. All are telling me to fight this thing and they have some valid points, one of them being: “if you plead guilty, you’re fucked, but if you plead not guilty and get off, you’re laughing”. Being the open-minded guy that I am, I will consider any and all advice no matter what the source.
I noticed one of the older guys (George) talking to the nurse a while ago. I recognized the nurse on duty tonight as being one of the detox staff (she has 2 jobs) who I know fairly well because my mother is also a nurse for addictions. So I have put in a request to see her, hoping to be able to probe her for information on Dr. Jones.
Tonight at supper, I ate rice for the first time in my life. I’ve been on this planet for 32 years and I’ve always managed to avoid this seemingly incredible substance. Actually, it wasn’t all that bad. Makes me wonder why I ever had such an irrational fear of rice (riceophobia – is that one in the medical books?) … this place may yet drive me foolish. But AA promised me I would get my sanity back. What’s up with that?
I did get to see Sharon, the nurse, tonight. We had a good conversation. I love talking to people, probing their brains. I never used to be a very talkative guy. Hmm. Makes me wonder. Her opinion is that the judicial system is higher up the totem pole than the medical system (where does spirituality fit into this equation?). I find it interesting that everyone has a different perspective on life and I value everyones opinion (well almost – there are always exceptions).
Hmmm. Suddenly, I encounter writers block. Must take break – must have cigarettes (my higher power at the moment).
OK, maybe I’ll just close up for the day. This is my last piece of paper anyway. I’ll have to fill out another (fucking?) request for more paper. It may take some time getting used to the strange ways of the correctional system. But my time would be better spent somewhere else. Things could get boring in here. Right now I have the challenge of preparing myself for court, and I like a good challenge. But after that? Will I encounter freedom, or sink deep into madness?
So far today I’ve written a letter to the patients at Talbot, a letter to the staff, a letter I intend to present to the court and these eight pages. Very productive day. Now the Simpsons are on and I must watch. Sometimes I think Krusty the Clown is my higher power …
Draft written statement to the Court – Day 2 of Max
Note: This is a draft, it appears of a statement that he was going to make to the judge. A few pages into it, he has notes which help him focus on the message that his target audience – the judge – would like to hear. He notes the following: judicial point of view, medical, spiritual. Whether or not the following is true and from the heart is debatable, but he does make a good statement.
Your honor, the reason I stood before you in June of this year was to answer to a charge involving the sale of drugs. I have not returned to this activity and I am determined never to do so.
What has happened is that I have tested positive for phenol-barbitol. I would like to describe the circumstances leading up to this event.
In September of this year, I was sent to a 28-day rehab program at Homewood Health Center in Guelph, Ontario. I went there with great expectations, hoping to learn about this disease and how it affects my behavior.
The person I shared a room with was a heroin addict from Vancouver, only 19 years old. We got along well and reminded me a lot of myself as I was at an early stager in my addiction. However, several days into the program, he came back from a walk downtown stoned on heroin. None of the staff or other patients noticed this but I did. It brought to the surface cravings and negative feelings in me that I hadn’t seen for months and had thought were no longer part of me. His behavior continued for several days and then he took off back to Vancouver without telling anyone. I had asked him to confess to the staff about what he was doing. He told me he would but kept putting it off and then he was gone. When I talked to the nurse about this she told me I was wrong for not turning him in, that I was bad. Meanwhile several other patients had gone home on weekend passes and come back intoxicated. They were not punished for this as I had been used to seeing here. Their reasons for using were discussed in group so as to help them and others from doing this again.
I was confused about this because it was a different approach than I have seen here. I attempted to ask questions about relapse but was told, “it sounds like you’re looking for an excuse to relapse, Reg”. That was not my intention but the response I received led me to lose trust in the staff. I was afraid to speak in group because I felt that anything I said could be misinterpreted and turned against me. As a result of this I was sent home from the program after 23 days, incomplete.
A few weeks after I returned to Talbot House, a patient there, who I had become close friends with was discharged for using drugs. I thought that he needed help but it seemed to me like he was pushed out the door and made to feel like a failure. Again I was confused and attempted to ask questions about relapse but I was made to feel like there was something wrong with my thinking. I felt that I couldn’t share my feelings openly and honestly with the staff. Apparently, the subject of relapse, which I feel is a major part of addiction, is taboo in treatment. I had cravings and thoughts about drugs which I felt I couldn’t share. I wanted to get them out but I didn’t know how. I took a phenobarb pill, which is used in detox to subdue cravings. I didn’t want to get high, I just wanted these unwelcome feelings to go away. I knew that it was wrong to take anything not prescribed by a doctor but at that moment, I was able to justify its use. Despite all the consequences, which I was fully aware of, I could still justify it to myself taking that pill. That in itself says something about the power of addiction.
I have been using drugs for about 20 years and I never expected that I would be cured in four months. I firmly believe that my intentions are good even though sometimes my behavior indicates otherwise.
I believe that I have made many positive changes in my life this far. I have attended Alcoholics Anonymous meetings daily for the last six months, mended relationships with family and friends that I thought were beyond repair. I’ve been involved in forming a narcotics anonymous group in Charlottetown which was needed in the area, and perhaps most important, I have allow my spirituality to develop and grow.
I don’t expect to be excused for my actions. I seek only understanding and the opportunity to move forward in life… Regardless of how this turns out, nothing that anyone can say or do to me will make me feel like a failure for / because I know in my heart that I am on the right path and one day correct my behavior, keeping in mind that I am only human and none of us is perfect.
I have spent the last nine months of my life in hospitals, detox’s, treatment centres, and now jail. I have been attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings daily during this period. I was involved in organizing and founding a narcotics anonymous group in Charlottetown in the past few weeks. I have the support of my family and AA members throughout the island.
I am attempting to pursue a career in journalism and have had some work published in the Guardian. I am in contact with a journalist (Holland College) for advice and guidance.
I firmly believe that my intentions are good even though sometimes my behavior indicates otherwise. Each persons acts can be perceived in many different ways (notes on judicial point of view, medical, spirituality) and I think that being in treatment under the direction of the courts biases some peoples views toward my own actions. But, I believe that anyone who knows my background can see that I have made many positive changes and most important of all to me, spiritual progress, although I accept that I will never attain perfection.
Alcoholics Anonymous teaches us that no man is perfect, we all have our defects of character. But with the support of one another we can improve the quality of our lives and become productive members of society. I don’t mean to preach or ramble here, but I feel it is important that I state my opinion at this point.
To focus on the positive, what I have done in the last eight months is to repair relationships with family and friends that I thought impossible to achieve at one point, attend AA meetings daily, take the initiative to start a new Narcotics Anonymous group which I felt was needed.
Your honor, the reason I stood before you in June of this year was to answer a charge involving trafficking in drugs. I have not returned to this activity and am determined never to do so.
What has happened is that I have had a short relapse. I can’t fully explain why this happened nor can I fully understand why it happened. What I know is that I am dealing with a disease that is both cunning and baffling. I am trying very hard to control / tame it and I feel that I have made great progress. Feelings of low self esteem, low self confidence, and inferiority that I once had are gone. Relationships with family and friends that I thought were beyond repair are being dealt with and mended. But I never expected to be cured in four months. Much time and effort is required to change 20 years involvement with drugs. I have been taking steps to.
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