What an unexpected journey prison has become. The last two and a half years of my life have been spent in the custody of the Federal Bureau of Prisons. I have fought, cried, forgotten, forgiven, learned, loved, felt, and written. I write because it releases me from the chains that bind my mind to this place, it helps me let go of the despair that torments me daily. Every day is a personal battle against sadness, loneliness, and feelings of inadequacy. Most days I win the battles, but some days just seem too hard. On the bad days, I just keep breathing, reminding myself that this does have an end. On good days, I accomplish more than I’ve ever accomplished on the outside.

Human consciousness is both our blessing and our curse. If I was only an animal, I wouldn’t know what I was missing. I would simply eat, drink, and survive. Instead? I’m consciously aware of the fact that my daughter is growing up, my father is dying without me, and my friends are already dead without me there. Some days feeling anything at all seems like nature’s greatest curse, but then I remember that the same consciousness also gives me a choice. It gives me perspective. It allows me to grow and become a version of myself that I never could’ve been without this experience. Consciousness allows me to see versions of my future and drives me to become who I’m meant to be. It grants me the ability to be proud of who I am now and how I’m overcoming my oppression. This experience has made me know myself and love myself in a way nothing else ever could.

I try to write a reflection post every six months, and a lot has happened since the previous one. The last six months begin with me in Fort Dix, New Jersey, and end with me in a familiar place: the Special Housing Unit, also known as the SHU. I’m here for failing a drug test for cannabis. Some will roll their eyes and say that I’ll never learn my lesson, and I’ll roll my eyes in return and say they’ll never learn theirs. I believe that we should all have a right to use cannabis, and my circumstances will never change that belief. If everyone blindly followed the rules and laws, those rules and laws would never change. There would still be slavery, women who can’t vote, and school segregation. I understand why people give in and follow, but I’ll never be that person. I fight because I know that I can handle the consequences. I know that, in the end, I’ll win. I’ve actually grown to enjoy the simplicity of the SHU and how it allows me to think and create without distraction. This is the worst they can do to me, but I still not only survive, I actually thrive.

My greatest accomplishment of the last six months was transcribing The End of the War on Drugs. Nearly seven hundred dollars worth of typing 184,000 words left me one giant step closer to publishing my first novel. Being able to send each part to people who read along was incredibly exciting and rewarding. A special shoutout to Lindsey Wankling who not only read but also responded to long lists of questions with deep and thoughtful answers that were incredibly valuable and encouraging throughout the journey. A special thank you to Bailey South, author of We Have Come to Burn, for painstakingly editing all of those words and mistakes while I sat here and collected my three meals a day. When I write my next reflection post, I’ll have my first novel published with the second one in progress. I know that all of this hard work and dedication is the foundation of my future greatness. Words cannot convey my excitement for the release of this creation of my mind. I hope that all of those reading will get a copy and enjoy it with a fraction of the amount I had while creating it. If that happens, it’ll be a great success.

The hardest moment of the last six months was losing one of my best friends to addiction. He’s visited my dreams nearly every night since I found out that he was gone. Losing Zach only further motivated me to follow the path I’ve envisioned for my life. We’ll never be able to end addiction completely, but our current methods of punitive punishments on dealers are not working. I’m going to put aside 10% of all the proceeds from my novel to help the fight against opiate addiction. When I get out of prison, I’ll continue that fight by opening my own addiction treatment concept. That is my greatest vision for changing the world in a positive direction. I don’t believe there’s anyone who can match my passion and beliefs on this issue. I know that I can’t save everyone, but that won’t stop me from trying.

30 months in prison have transformed me into a person I never knew that I could be; thriving in a place meant to rip apart the very soul of who I am has taken a personal belief in myself that I didn’t know I was capable of. I’m not just making it through this; I’m preparing for greatness in the second chapter of my life that I never believed possible. I’m proud of myself and thankful for all of the amazing people who’ve stuck by my side. Thank you, Zoe and Greg, for taking care of my beautiful and brilliant princess, Adelina. Thank you, Joanna, for being the best sister in the world. I know I shouldn’t have started a list because now the names are flooding through my mind, but if I try to name everyone, I’ll inadvertently leave someone out. And yes, you, I’m thankful for you, too. If you’re taking the time to read this, then you have my deepest and most sincere thanks. I really believe that what gives me so much strength is the positive connection that I feel from so many people across the world.

“It only takes a small group of committed people to change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

With love always,

Jeremy