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There is nothing that these prison walls have left to offer me. As I have spent eleven long and tedious years under their scrutiny during my incarceration I have lost many family and friends to death. Their final regards being sent with their last gathered breath. Others have moved far away to take a chance on a new life. Uprooted from their communities were both children and wife. And, so it has gone that I have done most of my time alone. Hundreds of people to play cards with though nobody phone at one point I had become bored even with my writing going to quite well. Then the next thing I knew I was put into a prison – rehab cell. Fourteen hours a day were filled with confusing rules and routine. It took me several months to figure out what it really did mean. I was informed that the rules were to break me of my negative ways. So I crammed and I studied them all the rest of my days. In some of the meetings I related my long and pent up grief. Thus making it easier to turn over a new leaf. I sat and I listened as others told stories of their disastrous lives. The loss of their children and separation from wives. I pondered long and hard before making my final choice. It was time that the world got to hear my voice. I looked hard to find my areas that I needed attention. And, also dug out harmful thoughts that needed prevention. In time I gained an entirely different way of thinking. Gone were the old routines of spending long hours each day drinking and the mornings waking up with pounding headaches and bloodshot eyes. The new days were to be much brighter, happier, with clear skies. I had been through a process of molding my thinking habits and more it allowed my vision to see that this would be my last prison tour. I wouldn’t ever again be forced to live another man in a tiny cell or have to breathe the stench that is a prisons’ well known smell or drink water from decaying pipes long unfit for human consumption or eat food I am told is beef, atleast by the cooks assumption. No more nights laying on a plate-steel bunk wondering if I’ll get any mail. Staying out of prison is something at which I cannot afford to fail. I am learning all of the tools I will need to live my life in sobriety. While making a place for myself in a sane and rational society. Through the years that I have been sitting around in prison. Short-term and long-term goals have both fallen and risen. Today, I am not into making plans for a long and eventful life. I’ll just take one day at a time and see if I can find a good wife. All of the aches and pains that fill me will never miss this place. I could never come back here again because it would be an unbearable disgrace.

 

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My name is James Anthony. I’m 25 years old from Halton, Maine. I have a 20 year-old fiance named Kayla, and a beautiful 1 year-old son named Austin. I was arrested for selling 5 hydrocodone to a former friend of mine who was wearing a wire.

I’ve paid fines, previously for weed possession, but other than that I don’t have a record.

I was sentenced to two years with all but 3 months suspended. Right now, I’m in York County Jail doing the 3 months. When I get out of here I’ll have probation for two years. That means that if I get caught drinking or using drugs in the next two years, I’ll go back to jail for two years.

I wasn’t offered the option of rehab. I’ll get released back to my home town, my family & all my old friends.

Two years for five pills. And I missed seeing my baby boy walk his first steps.

Wish me luck.

– James Anthony
MDOC# ????
17 Mallison Falls Rd
Windham, ME 04062

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Political Prisoners

Welcome to the blog from inmates of Maine's jails and prisons.

In collaboration with the Holistic Recovery Project, the Political Prisoners Blog provides a prisoner's view into what's happening at Maine's correctional facilities.

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