I hope Paula’s doing OK. I miss the hell out of her. Not like I miss Tom, though!

I wonder if I’ll even remember what freedom’s like when I get out. The question is, though – just how much freedom will I have? And just how torn between living and dying will I be? I’m sick of being a victim of society and having my life dictated to me by one fucked up system after another. I don’t want another 35 years of being society and God’s slave, and to hell with what I want. I’ve thought about killing myself a lot.

It isn’t only my not being able to recover from this humiliating trauma that worries me; it’s how much harder decision-making is going to be that also worries me. I so rarely have had the opportunity to make my own decisions in life, both as a kid and as an adult. So whenever the rare occasion came along where a choice was mine to make, it was very hard. I’m simply not used to it. So I can just imagine how much harder making my own decisions will be after 6 months of people deciding everything for me!

I wouldn’t mind taking some drawing classes, but I don’t know where we’d get the money for that at this time. Why can’t I just do what I want for a change and go home and get on with my life as the homemaker I was content enough to be? How many more years can I be punished for something I shouldn’t even be punished for? When’s enough ever enough? These people just won’t go away and leave me the fuck alone, and I swear they’re going to haunt me for the rest of my life! FUCKING freeloaders! If it were up to me, I’d go home, live like a hermit, and never deal with more than the half a dozen or so people I know out here. I hate people! I just don’t trust them. All they want to do is fuck everyone over.

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It’s dead quiet for a change, Kim’s asleep, so this is as close as I get to having any peace, space and privacy in a place that makes the NHA seem quiet.

I can’t believe we haven’t had another celly thrown in here yet.

Although you can pretty much sleep whenever you want to, I never get more than 3-5 hours of sleep without something interrupting it. I sleep on and off. Very few people sleep 8 hours straight in jail. Oh, how I miss my soft comfortable bed! I want to go home and sleep 10 hours straight, too.

Tomorrow they change stripes and sheets. I’m so fucking sick of being dressed like a zebra!

Tom got a new brown rat and named him Harry (the real Houdini’s first name) so Houdini could have a roommate. He’s kind of small and is in the tank. He says Houdini jumps in to see him.

God, I miss Houdini! I miss playing with him and seeing him at the door, waiting for me to come and let him out.