Over the Wall

By Anonymous

Over the wall was what my next several years would look like: maximum security prison. The women's facility was one of the largest in the world. I needed all the mental help I could get, but not everyone in prison sees it this way. While the average person views medical records as confidential, it is one of the confidentialities you lose while incarcerated. In prison, your record follows you: disciplinary, medical, mental, personal grievances, etc. Any sign of any-doing in these records can be used for you or against you when it comes to parole. As a woman with a life sentence, my record is reviewed by the California Board of Parole (BPH). While the stigmas behind mental health still exist, they are very much alive within the prison system. Incarcerated People (IP) feel any mark on the mental health board will keep you in prison longer—even if that mark meant asking for help. As a Gen Z, it took me a long time to understand this concept. As a twenty-something in prison, I believed I needed more health and wellness in my life than ever before. The saying "prison food makes you fat" became my tummy's terrible tale. Working out became less accessible and 100° hotter in the California desert. I never had leaky gut, but my gut was leaking thoughts full of toxins directly into my brain. I didn't know how I was going to survive—let alone thrive. After many footsteps full of fear, I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Another round of anti-depressants later, I finally found what works for me. The battle of mental health in prison is a battle I will never win because it is an ongoing cycle. As an addict, I had to unlearn "take this one pill, and it will all go away." I realized it wasn't going to happen in one pill, one bottle, one day, or one year. For me, it's a mindful battle I continue to put work into fighting. It is knowing a burst of anxiety doesn't mean my world is ending. It serves as a mindful moment: I am human and I am okay.