10 days

DEC 31, 2020

The notification popped up on my phone. Whenever i got an email from KV it made my heart skip a beat. I've been on eggshells the last 3 months waiting to see how this would play out. 

The subject line said "Plea." 

"Joanna,

The DA has offered an updated plea. It's for 10 days in jail, and pretty much all the other stipulations. I highly recommend you take it. 

Look it over and let me know,

Katherine"

I hit the reply arrow and, in all caps, replied "FUCK YEAH!" 

I don't care what people say about public defenders, this one was amazing! 

2 1/2 years in prison was off the table. I could get my youngest son back soon. I'd be able to have my 15 year old for the summer. I hadn't just lost the last opportunity I had to parent my oldest before they were an adult. My life could continue to move on. And all the work i'd done since getting clean wouldn't be in vain. And i could end the worst year in modern history with a huge ray of sunshine at the end of this tunnel.

10 days would be a breeze. And plus, this would be the first time going into jail sober. I got this. 

I got so excited I squealed. My husband gave me a look.

"The plea came in! It's 10 days in jail." 

He just beamed and reached over, grabbing me into a bear hug. I know he was relieved too. Maintaining the homestead by himself would have been difficult. Plus unless we're working we're inseperable. 

March 2, 2021

We had to leave at 5 am to drive from the little mountain town we live in now to the massive metropolitain cespool from whence we came. It was a 4 hour drive, court was at 11:30 (they're always at 11:30 if they're taking you into custody; that way they can lock the doors behind you) and we had to swing by the airport. A close friend flew in from Wisconsin to have breakfast with my husband and I, and I researched.... I'm a bit of a foodie. And jail food is not foodie food. I found this hidden downtown jem that had Huevos Rancheros. I hadn't had good Huevos Rancheros since I left Prescott almost a decade before. 

We found a picnic table at a park. They were all wrapped in caution tape, though i'm not sure how a table bathed in UV rays in open air wasn't one of the safest ways to dine in the middle of a pandemic, but what do I know? At least I was able to get the vaccine already. Another perk of living in a poor rural community that's mostly a food desert; food service workers were included on the top of the 1B vaccination lists. Another win for my "essential" food service job. 

We sat and chatted and smoked and ate. I savored my food and tobacco and coffee and weed and friends, and my freedom. I tried to soak it up, to try and make it last. I munched a few medables to really make it last.... and headed to court. 

My husband couldn't come in, the court only allowed defendants in. We had to say goodbye at the car. I hugged him and kissed him and tried to soak him up to. My rock. My partner. My strength. I held him as long as I could. 

The walk to the courthouse was ominous. I saw my husband and our friend drive away. I was alone, surrounded by strangers. This was the first time i knew i was going to jail before i went there. I tried to feel the breeze on my face. I inhaled the last few drags of my cigarette (i had spontaneously started smoking a cou0ple days earlier,knowing quitting would be a given in jai.)  I looked down and realized I forgot to change my shirt.....

I brought a paisley print Lucky Brand shirt... pretty much the nicest shirt I own. 

Instead I had a shirt with a Viking Skull on it that said:

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.Except vikings.Vikings will kill you and sing songs about it."

Oh well. Might as well summon my Viking roots to deal with these crazy bitches. I've never been to a jail like this. I'd always had a cell with one other person, and never for more than 3 days, that usually flew by because i was sleeping off a meth bender. 

This was one cramped room with 126 bunks in it. In a pandemic. 

Thank God I had the vaccine. 

I waited outside for my lawyer. KV. Or Katherine. I tried to prepare myself for what was coming. "Just keep your head down, mind your business, and ignore everyone for the next 10 days. This too shall pass." I kept repeating myself. I mentally tried to prepare myself for the events to come. The cold cuffs on my wrists. Shitting in front of strangers. The cold ass cells with their white brick walls covered in grafitti from all those that came before me. 

"Ima mark my 10 days off on my bunk. Scratch off each day. My massive amount of 10 days." I'd joked to my husband a week before, thinking I had a grasp on what I was about to go through.  

"Don't." He said, dead serious. "If you write on the walls you'll be back to see it."

"Fuck that!" 

Definately not writing on the walls. 

I tried to stop my mind and just breathe. It wasn't helping. 

My palms are cold and clammy and it feels like my heart is beating out of my chest. I really didn't think I'd react like this. I didn't think it would be so hard to surrender my freedom. Or maybe I had just avoided thinking about it because there was nothing i could do about it. Resolving residual legal issues is part of recovery, and i am commited to mine. It just has to be done, so why dwell on it?

Well i'm dwelling on it now. 

It feels like time is crawling. My foot taps incessantly until i hear the "click clack" of heels that remind me of the princess shoes my oldest used to wear everywhere. My lawyer came around the corner looking neat as a pin. City folk. I don't mind living somewhere where most people are too poor to care about the latest fashion trends. I don't feel so out of place in my oversized camo jacket, moccasins, and pom pom beanie from the local dispensary. My winter uniform. 

She holds out her hand to shake mine. It's the first time we've actually met in person. Virtual everything is the flavor of the day. Apparently court personnel diserve to live safely but inmates don't. We must not be human enough. But i digress....

"Good morning! How are you doing?" She asks, a little too brightly.

Is that a rhetorical question? "As good as can be expected I guess." 

"Well good. Are you ready?"

Must be another rhetorical question. 

"As ready as I'll ever be!" I try to match her enthusiasm. Mine is much less bright. 

We go into court and the judge appears on the screen before me. We go through all the formalities before she gives me the chance to speak. 

"Is there anything you'd like to say to the court before i hand down your sentence?" The screen asked. 

"Yes ma'am." I pull the crumpled paper out of my pocket and unfold it. I immediately choke up. This is so much harder than i thought it would be. I breathe deeply and try to reign in my emotions. I've spent so long learning how to let my emotions out and not hold them in that now it's almost impossible to keep them in when they come up. I close my eyes and visuslize my kids. This is all for them. 

"First, I want to make sure I express my deep remorse for what I did. I fully recognize the danger I put the public in. The danger I put my son in. And how much more horribly this could have gone had that cop not stopped me when he did. Drugs will make you do things that you wouldn't normally do, and it gives you the ability to rationalize the irrational. That doesn't negate my responsibility for my actions. That just means I had to get rid of the drugs. 

And I did. 21 months clean on the 8th, and I have the hair follicles to prove it. My husband and I got clean, moved 4 hours away from everything and everyone we knew, and bought an acre of undeveloped land in Apache county. My husband and I got our lisences reinstated, we both got full time jobs, we got a house, a car, and have built a completely new off grid life. We got from homeless to homeowners in less than a year. 

And I acknowledge that recovery isn't some apex you reach. It's not something you accomplish and then you're done. My addiction lasted 18 years. It's not going to go away overnight, and I need to be prepared for the rough patches that inevitably come up in life. I have done EMDR therapy to address my childhood trauma, and that changed my life. But it doesn't resolve everything. I currently have a therapist with an extensive background in addiction. I meet with him weekly. I also just initiated family therapy with a therapist I saw when I first went into treatment 6 years ago, so we are doing sessions weekly with her as well. I also have a psychiatrist I meet with monthly to manage my med treatment and keep my bipolar in check. I am dedicated to being the best I can be, so I can be the best mother I can be for my 2 incredible kids. 

I want to make sure I express my gratitude. I want to thank the judge for your role in bringing to light how much mental health can play a part in criminal behavior, and for presiding here today.  Thank you for what you do. 

I would like to thank the prosecution for considering all I have done to improve my life since this crime was committed, as it was over 2 years ago. I fully recognize that I am getting the minimum sentence for the crimes to which I am pleading guilty. 2 1/2 years in prison would have set me back so far. My oldest just turned 15. 2 1/2 years would have meant I would essentially miss out on the last few years I have to parent before my child is an adult. And I'm sure if I had gone to prison my brother and sister in law would have filed for custody of my youngest, as he has been with family in Minnesota for almost 2 years while we have gotten stable. 

Which leads me to my lawyer. Your hard work and dedication have helped me make sure I am still present for my oldest, and my youngest is coming home as soon as I have my jail time out of the way. You have deeply impacted the life of 2 children. Let that touch your heart, because it has definately touched mine. 

And last but not least, I want to publicly and on the record thank the officer that safely delivered my son to my husband that night, and to all the officers that played on his love of law enforcement officers to distract him from what was happening to me. Their attention and care for my son helped prevent this from being a traumatic experience for him. All the officers involved in my arrest we very obviously concerned with public safety, and they did exactly what they were supposed to do. They never made me feel judged or condescended to. It was humiliating, but only because of my own actions.

I am not the woman that got arrested that night. I am so much stronger and healthier than I ever thought I could be. And the plea I have been offered allows me to keep up my progress, while also proving my stability and paying my debt to society. Even in the face of jail time, the light at the end of my tunnel is very bright. One of my children will be home this month, and the other in the beginning of June. And I'm working hard at learning the parenting science that leads to the best outcomes for children, and I am dedicated to being the best mother I can be for them. 

I know that the punishment I am about to recieve is due solely to my poor choices. I accept my punishment with humility, remorse, and gratitude. And I appreciate this opportunity to speak here today. Thank you for your time, and I thank all of you for what you do."

I wipe the tears from my face. I take a deep breath and exhale deeply. It feels like i'm deflating, like I'm exhaling my freedom. And i guess I am, for at least 10 days. 

"Anything else you would like to add?" The stone faced judge asks my lawyer. 

"No, I don't think i could say anything better than that." She looked slighly dumbfounded.

"Alright. Well miss, I do have to take you into custody now. You are aware of this, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am. I knew I was going in today."

The sheriff walks in, cuffs in hand. I hold my wrists out like an obedient child. And on clicks the cold metal. 

March 3rd, 2021

I forgot about this part. The mental warfare. The whole goal is to break you down. To make you feel like you have no control anymore. To make you feel less than. To make you feel weak. 

Or maybe it didn't get to me like it is now. The few times i had been to jail before I already felt broken, weak, less than, and out of control. 

It all reminds me of my old life and I hate it. 

By the time I get to my bunk at 4am the next morning, I was feeling it. I'd been awake over 24 hours, which was much harder to do without the meth, and it made me feel so much like I was actually coming down.  I was exhausted, cold and hungry. The CO's were condescending and demeaning. And it had barely just begin. 

I tried to sleep in the next morning but by the time the morning sack was served at 7am, the sound of 100+ women crammed in a 50x50 foot room with no sound dampeners created a noise I can barely explain. Laughter and yelling and shouting. I tried to focus on the food but I couldn't. The milk was sour, the orange was sour, the bread was hard and the peanut butter was mostly oil. I couldn't believe girls were going so crazy over this food. 

But then again...

At least 2/3 of the bunks were full at any time with girls sleeping off their drug of choice. Who knows the last time most of them had anything other than this for a minute. 

he first lockdown was because some girl shat herself in the shower. I'm not sure how detoxing off drugs and losing bowel control can be stopped by putting us on lockdown, but again, what do I know? I must have forefeited my humanity when I commited a crime.

There's only so far you can keep your head down when your the only one on the top bunk. It's hard to ignore everyone with the high decibal roar that was omnipresent in the room. By 11 that night, after 2 fights and 16 hours of that shreiking roar, I though my head was going to explode. 

This girl Yaya on a bunk across the room sees the look on my face. She yells at me "hey Joanna! How you doin'?" 

I look at her, unable to form the words to express how I feel, but I guess my expression said it all. 

What in the Actual Fuck?! 

She starts laughing her ass off.

This is going to be harder than I thought.