A friend of mine pulled me aside and told me that his sister just died from the coronavirus and now his mom is fighting the virus. As he explained this to me his eyes began to water, regretfully the only comfort I could offer was just to listen. He eventually pulled himself together and assured me that he’ll be able to solider through. He concluded our talk with, “I don’t know how much more I can take!” I could only offer an empathetic nod.
Our exchange this morning caused me to dwell on the psychological weight that comes with our imprisonment and the extra weight caused by this COVID-19 pandemic. True, prison by its nature is stressful but this COVID-19 adds a different burden to an already heavy experience.
On a personal note, I have constantly stressed about my well being since all this has started. I’m always worrying about my Mom. To a point of paranoia at times. All that stress along with worrying about my own health and safety.
COVID-19 reinforces the feeling that my life is expendable, a feeling that prison already tries to create within us. To understand what I mean by expendable you have to look at things from my perspective. Here I am in the middle of a pandemic with the governor declaring a “state of emergency.” All I’m given to deal with this is a mask, instruction to wash my hands, and to let them know if I feel sick. Then I’m put back into this congestive environment with approximately 80 other prisoners and just told to survive the best we can.
No medical personnel explained to us what we’re facing or how to deal with COVID-19, no test is being offered to the prison population and in light of my medical issues I feel I’m at a high risk when it comes to this virus.
My friend and I, and the majority of us within these prison walls all wonder, how much more can we take? We question our endurance all the while hoping to survive prison. Along with this COVID-19 and the combined weight of both put all of us face to face with death. I wasn’t sentenced to die better yet I have a right to life.