â€œClick, click, click.â€ As the steel door opens, I realize that it is the beginning of what seems to be one long, never ending day. It is now 5:30 AM, and the time has come to be herded like cattle for chow. The extreme chill of the pod (living quarters) is almost overbearing when I first step out of my cell. The foul stench of body odor and bad food overcomes me. Slowly and silently, faces of desperation emerge from their cells to be counted like sheep. Day after day, with the monotony never ending, I seem to grow more and more indigent. No one should have to undergo the demoralization of jail. The feeling of demoralization is common amongst inmates. This feeling stems from thoughts of feeling less than human, an overwhelming lack of privacy, and not having any sense of freedom.
Very quickly I learned that in ...view middle of the document...
None of which was at all pleasing for the average human being.
Privacy was another issue that I faced on a daily basis. At no point in the day was I allowed to have a single moment to myself. There was always someone looking down on me from the guard station that floated above like a cloud in the sky. Even as I slept, I was being watched. The most uncomfortable aspect of it all was when it was time to use the restroom; there were still eyes on me. However, as time passed, I began to feel comfortable with the evasion of my privacy and that alone was a scary realization to deal with.
Worst of it all, was simply the lack of freedom. All of my life I had taken my freedom for granted. Knowing that I could not come and go as I pleased or simply go outside. Having to go months on end without even getting to feel the blistering sun, gleam down on my body. I would have been willing to give anything just to be able to take one deep breath of the cool, summer air or to feel something as simple as a raindrop roll slowly down my arm. Things that at one time seemed so simple, but for now, were far from my current grasp. The only contact I had with Mother Nature was the one hour a month that we got to spend out in the recreation area. It was a small, concrete room with tiny slits in the ceiling that allowed miniature rays of sunlight to scarcely come into the room. I could not feel the sun, but at least I knew that there was still one there.
The demoralization I was going through, however, was of my own doing. I was the one who made the conscience decision to break the law. Ironically, the experience of jail, with its demoralization of the human spirit, probably saved my life. The road I was traveling down would either had led me to a life of addiction or certain death. The awakening that prison provided me has made a lasting impression on my life. I made a decision that I would never feel the demoralization that I felt while encaged in the depths of hell. There is not a single day that goes by that I do not remember how jail made me feel. â€œClick, click, click.â€