A pointless journey through an unwanted life, is what I thought I was living. It was like my feet were moving- yet for twenty-three years, as much as I could move, I never got any further than I was the day before. There I was, stuck an infinite prison corridor. Early on, I was tired. Tired of living afraid that any day my inability to cope would cause me to end my own life.

I worried daily about those I would devastate if I gave in my suicidal to my urges. Mostly I lived, in order not to cause more pain to those I loved. I lived for my mother. Though i often hated living. I was lucky. God blessed me with a ride or die mother, who despite struggling with her own problems somehow managed to stand by me and support me for twenty-three straight years and never once did she leave my side. She is why I still exist.

From behind the front I always knew someday I’d be on my own, but I didn’t foresee prison, that’s for sure. I mean who does? Of the millions of people who go to prison, it’s not like we say as kids, “When I grow up I wanna be an inmate.” Nope life happens good or bad- and what’s worse we can’t undo it.

After the crime, I carried my conscience in such a heavy load. I struggled to understand why I was left breathing. I often wished I could switch places. But no amount of wishing or praying could undo what was already written.

Feeling stuck like a fly in prison’s poison web, I tried to figure out a way not to be devoured by regret and fear.

Home replayed itself over and over in my mind, but each time it became less and less visible, time obstructed my view. Home got so far away I began to forget what it looked like.

By the time I left prison, Home was a big blast of scenery overload, and “I can’t believe I’m really here’s.”

As a woman who was incarcerated for 23 years. I’m extremely invested in a criminal justice.

I am invested in examining the entire corrections system to unveil and remedy all causes of recidivism.

Yes that would be something I’d like to talk about.

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People think its only the road blocks after prison that cause someone to return, but truly a major component is how one is treated in prison. Self-esteem cannot be achieved at the same time one is incurring abuse.

So if progress is purposely impeded by those the state entrusts with our lives- how are we expected to function well after release?