The words I offer here are my attempt to express how I experience the world of working inside a prison — a world that is dirty, harsh, and unforgiving. It’s a world I chose to step into in order to provide for myself and my family — the people who make up the other, very different, world I inhabit. Two worlds: one of light, one of shadow. As different as day and night.
The outside world — the world I share with my family — should be filled with love, laughter, and hope for the future.
The inside world — the prison world — is a place defined by frustration, anger, violence, and despair.
When I first began this career, I was rooted firmly in the outside world. But as time passed, I became so wrapped up in the inside world that I began to embrace it. Each day spent within it pulled me in deeper. Slowly, I lost pieces of myself — the parts that once cherished the outside world. I found myself drawn to the chaos, the unpredictability, the adrenaline. It became more thrilling to respond to a crisis than to watch my child perform in a school talent show. The rush was addictive.
The yelling, the rage, the use of force — the illusion of control and power — it all felt so real. But it was an intoxicant, and no one ever warned us of the price. It’s like a mental heroin.
And just like with any drug — physical or psychological — the high is always followed by a crash. And then, the craving for more. But at what cost?
The cost of getting wrapped up in the inside world is the slow erosion of who we once were. We begin to lose touch with the joy and peace we used to find in the outside world. We grow distant from those we love. We carry the inside world home with us. We start picking up destructive habits — searching for that same rush, or maybe just trying to numb ourselves to the boredom and stillness of the world we used to hold dear.
This story I share is a blend of my own life and the lives I’ve witnessed around me. The line between observation and personal experience has blurred. I feel it all.
The rabbit hole is deep, dark, and terrifying. And at some point, each of us must face a choice: do we keep chasing that rush, hoping we’ll somehow find our way back someday? Or do we turn away from the darkness, and make the hard, deliberate effort to remain anchored in the world of light?
