CHAPTER 10

Sleeping in a Cell

8 P.M.

YOU’VE PROBABLY BENT a few errant bedsprings into place trying to make your bed comfortable, and now you’ve quietly settled down, trying not to disturb your cellie. You’ve also probably considered giving into the sob lurking at the back of your throat, but your decision to hold it in is the correct one. The poor crying bastard down the hall is about to get a beat down if he doesn’t shut the hell up and let everyone sleep.

My first night behind bars was a doozy. The bunk bed was hard as hell. The pillow was thin and the lights were bright. Staring at the gray ceiling, I thought about my daughter. This was stated in the opening chapter. How would I explain this madness to her? I was in Paris, Kentucky, in a county jail with just as many blacks as whites, an oddly even racial divide. I was being held in an open-dorm area with eight metal bunk beds. Below me, my “bunkie” was pretty quiet. He didn’t ask many questions at all, which was surprising. It was a good thing, since I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

Crying is off the table. You wanna be all sensitive out in the real world, fine, be my guest. But in prison, that does nothing but send out a flare announcing, “Here lies the weak! Come, beat me!” Plus, it just annoys the crap out of guys who are trying to sleep. Swallow it down, brother.

You are going to face loneliness on a deep level. I know, that seems weird, since you’re sharing a room with at least one dude, if not in an open dormitory with fifteen or more guys. And all night long you can hear the hum of men snoring, farting, or talking in their sleep. But believe me, the loneliness will come. One of my friends just showed me a letter I wrote her from when I was in prison, saying, “You’ve never known what it’s like to be alone until you’ve spent time in jail. Damn! You just cannot fathom what being alone is. Craving is an understatement—but you have to stay focused on the spiritual side of yourself and concentrate on your future.”

Fears and doubts will creep in. In that same letter, I said, “I lie in bed and worry about what it’s going to be like to share a bed with a woman after sleeping alone for eight and a half years, and at times I wonder if I’ll ever make it out of here at all.”

Don’t let it take you over. Lie back and clear your mind. Don’t bother conjuring up images of your “happy place,” not for a while, because that’ll probably just depress you more, knowing you won’t be going to any sandy beach or backyard hammock anytime soon. But you can settle yourself, breathe in, breathe out, and try not to think. Meditate, pray for your family, or focus solely on your breathing.

You don’t have a lot of choices if you’re not tired. Reading, of course. Just consider your roommate. Angle the light, if you can, so the light will not bother him. Even when you’re flipping pages, do it normally, not like a spastic ten-year-old. If you’re anything like one of my old cell mates and you tend to laugh or gasp out loud as you’re reading, that habit will have to be curbed immediately.

While on the inside, I discovered a number of books I enjoyed, some that even changed my way of thinking. I highly, highly suggest you read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, in which he talks about finding meaning during the worst moments, and how no one controls your mind but you even when others are trying to break your spirit. You can respond to hate with more hate and anger, or you can respond with patience and forbearance.

Here are a few more books I recommend: Chin-Ning Chu’s Thick Face Black Heart, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead, Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society’s Mankind’s Search for God, Knowledge that Leads to Everlasting Life, What Does The Bible Really Teach, Stephen Covey’s Principle-Centered Leadership, George G. M. James’s Stolen Legacy, Dr. Naim Akbar’s Breaking the Chains of Psychological Slavery, Visions for Black Men, Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence, Donald Trump’s The Art of the Deal, Pat Riley’s The Winner Within, Will Durant’s The Pleasures of Philosophy, Dr. John Coleman’s The Conspirator’s Hierarchy: The Committee of 300, Milton William Cooper’s Behold a Pale Horse.

Writing is also a great option. Many famous authors have penned their opus from a jail cell, including Miguel de Cervantes (Don Quijote), Henry David Thoreau (Civil Disobedience), Martin Luther King Jr. (Letter From Birmingham City Jail), O’Henry (Gift of the Magi), Nelson Mandela (Conversations with Myself), Jack London (The Call of the Wild). Even Charles Manson, that nutcase, found a publisher for his The Black White Bus.

When I was working as the food service clerk in FCI Fort Dix, I had a friend who would ask me to bring him writing pads. I’d never seen anyone use so many writing pads, within hours sometimes. I finally asked him what in the hell he was doing with so much paper and he replied, “I’m writing books.” He must’ve had fifteen or more books written before he was released from prison. One thing for sure, he used his time wisely. Now that he’s out, he’s still writing, under the name Relentless Aaron, with a mass-market book deal at St. Martin’s Press and two movie deals in the works. I was watching ABC World News one night in 2006 and was shocked and thrilled when they ran a feature story about him and his jump from prison to published author. We still talk from time to time and congratulate each other on the success we have created, in spite of once being incarcerated.

It is important to note, however, that thanks to serial killer Son of Sam, legislation was passed in the 1970s making it a law that convicts can’t collect money from the sale of a book published while they are incarcerated. If you’re not a lifer, take a page from Relentless Aaron’s playbook, and wait until you get out before you start submitting your great American novel to publishers.

I mentioned journaling earlier. You don’t have to write for publication or any audience other than yourself. If you can record your thoughts, feelings, or experiences, maybe it will help you process the anger, fear, and frustration. Or, at the very least, you’ll have a record of the crazy stuff that happens and you can leave prison to go write the next Orange is the New Black. But consider this: If another inmate decides to go through your journal, he might not appreciate reading your description of him as the cell moron. Consider using code names and changing descriptions of cell mates.

But eventually you do need to sleep. Sleep will keep you healthy and strong, both mentally and physically. It also gives you an out from boredom. If you can train yourself to fall asleep early, all the better. That gives your mind an extra thirty minutes of freedom where it’s not trapped in a six-by-nine-foot cell.

Over 200,000 people in the United States last year made a big mistake, and are now, like you, trapped with 2.3 million other convicts, facing an extremely high price for committing a felony. This price goes way beyond incarceration and humiliation. We convicts lose our place in society, our professional careers, friends and, very often, families. So. What are you going to do about it? You cannot change the past, nor can you give in to the fantasy that society is going to welcome you back with open arms, that all will be forgiven. You’re going to have to work to earn trust back. Luckily, the one thing you have is time to do just that.

You can survive prison—maybe even come out a better man. Your choice.