Hopeless Insomnia in the Prison Industrial Complex
Fluorescent lights, slamming doors, and indistinct chatter convince me I'm no longer asleep. And as much as I hate it, this is every morning of my life. I have no idea what time it is but I'm definitely not asleep. I'm awake long before I ever open my eyes. My nightly waltz, tossing, turning, shifting and thrashing, in an attempt to find a position comfortable enough to buy me a few more seconds of annihilation, is coming to its futile end. This kinetic plea for sleep has to be pissing off my bunkie by now. My prayers go unanswered as I come, kicking and screaming, to the heartbreaking realization that there's not another minute of sleep to be had here, not another unconscious moment I can pass in slumber—at least not right now.
My heartbreak turns to acid in my chest as this fucked up world comes to life around me; my veins spread poison at the idea that I have to take part. My eyes open, frustrated and angry. My first waking experience of everyday isn't thought or contemplation, it isn't desire or instinct, it's emotion; it's the anger of the defeated; every morning I'm Poland, World War II.
Only after exhausting all other options, I'm forced out of, what the state of Michigan has been fraudulently passing off as a bed, to meet the day; a day that holds less promise than the last, and only slightly more than next.
My heart sinks and I take a breath to steel myself for the hopeless monotony ahead. I make a cup of instant coffee and muster just enough of a fuck to get through a few more hours...
This is the beginning of my daily nightmare.
Unfortunately this is prison...or what prison's become: no real programing, no real schooling, no therapy, no positive reinforcement, no incentive to change, no rehabilitation... and no real options. Hell, for six years I haven't even been able to find a decent night's sleep.
Lately, in this state of hopeless insomnia, I've been contemplating the idea of hope. It seems to me that hope is dependent on possibility. Limit possibility and you limit hope; kill possibility and you kill hope.
A place like this is devoid of both.
It makes no sense...for anyone.
Michigan's prison system is one of the most backwards, outdated, and dismal in the country and one of only three states in the country without good time, without any incentive to rehabilitate.
In our country no one should be denied a 2nd chance, but more importantly, we should all want those people being released back into society to actually be rehabilitated, and that starts with the opportunity for those inmates who show growth, effort, discipline, and genuine change to be given that 2nd chance sooner than those who don't... As it stands now, there is absolutely zero incentive for any inmate to make those changes, though many still do. There is only punishment, there is no positive reinforcement. Even dog trainers know that positive reinforcement is how you change behavior. This is not justice.
We are all in this together.
One way or another, we will be coming home.
You don't want to find out what happens when a generation of convicts is released back into society, sleep deprived and hopeless.
I promise you don't.
We will all have trouble sleeping then.
We’d love to hear your comments on this (or any other) piece that Bobby created. Please throw a few lines in the Comments section below. After you leave a comment, a box will pop up, all you have to do is throw a name in the first field. Hell, you can make up a name, and you don’t have to leave an email (unless you want to), simply select post as a Guest - just let us know what you think. Please.