(09) NO PIE & 6 MONTHS NO SHOWER: Depression & Prison Parenting
02/20/24 • 22 min
Discover extra content in the blog post – No Pie & 6 Months No Shower!!
In 2012 I began my second year in prison. Facing another 7 years behind bars I wrestled with clinical depression as I struggled to maintain contact with my children while working a prison job. My oldest son, meanwhile, joined the Army and headed to boot camp, from where he sent frequent letters to me.
I discuss serious depression and its effects, with complete transparency including my inability to even shower for nearly 6 months. I share the joy of parenting, even in a difficult situation and the importance of family connections. Are you struggling with serious depression? Are you a parent looking for support? You’ll find steps you can begin today to feel connected to your children in every situation.
TRANSCRIPT:
Are you parenting in a difficult situation? Do you need solutions and strength?
Join me on my journey through prison as I learn being mom despite distance and incarceration. From daily challenges to pride as I follow my son on his own journey through the Army, discover with me the secret to powerful parenting in any circumstance.
Learn steps you can begin today! Listen until the end, you won’t want to miss a word. This is no pie and 6 months no shower.
It was January 2012 and I worked in General Assembly inspecting gaskets at base pay, 50 cents an hour. PIE work, given out on seniority, paid $4-$6 per hour. I set my sights on top pay and planned. I didn’t have long to wait.
One afternoon prison guards entered, strolled through the room and halted at a nearby desk. A co-worker doing PIE work peered up in surprise. I held my breath and waited. I was next in line for PIE work. All that stood in my way were the current employees doing the work. My hopes soared! Could this be the day coming sooner than I expected?
“Stand up,” they told her. My co-worker set down her work, resignation on her face. As she stood a guard clicked handcuffs on her wrists. The room, quiet before was now dead silent. All eyes watched the drama. Work was boring and this was something to talk about.
The guards led my co-worker out of the room and off to seg. Boy was I happy – delighted! I hoped she never came back! Thank God for the police! God, however, was about to teach me a lesson about rejoicing at another’s bad day.
The next day I came to work, eager to start earning top dollar for the first time. I was already spending future paychecks on imaginary canteen. Clenching three boxes of work, my boss left his office and made a path towards my desk. Humming happily I watched him as he dropped the boxes on my desk.
As he arranged the work in front of me, a phone began ringing behind him in his office. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, shuffling off to answer it. I stared at the work on my desk and waited, toes tapping, still shopping in my head.
A few minutes later he returned and began scooping the boxes back up. Confused, I watched as he removed the boxes he’d delivered only minutes ago. Reading my expression he announced, “I’m sorry. Our vendor just called and cancelled the PIE work contract. Please continue your regular work instead.” Lurching back to his office, he stopped to pitch my dreams in the trash by the door.
shocked, my head felt wooden. I could not believe that had just happened. What are the odds of that timing? It felt like a cruel joke. Next I thought, What are my options? I quickly discovered the other half of General Assembly still earned PIE work.
I immediately requested a transfer. I felt it couldn’t happen fast enough. Transfer granted, I worked to learn this new job so I could do well. It was a weird job and I just wanted to understand expectations of me and how to do well so I could earn the most money possible. Praise was also welcome.
March 19th, 2012
email subject: we got the box
Email From: Tommy
Message: Hi Mom we got the box you sent us it’s really nice I love love my hat and ring the ring fits perfect and so does the hat I sent you a picture with me wearing the hat. I hope you like it. Vivi thought the ring was hers so good thing I got it first. Vivi loves the purse you sent her and I painted my rocket for camp casey navy blue. I will take a picture of that too and sent it to you. Tim likes his had too. I like the inside and I love you too.
Love Tommy
Struggling with depression, stability remained a challenge for me. Forty hours a week – bankers hours – an impossible task for me to perform consistantly. We were all permitted one day off a month, and I always took it. sometimes, ok usually, I risked an extra day. Due to my attendance record I was never given a raise.
As a result of my skill on the job, I was giv...
Discover extra content in the blog post – No Pie & 6 Months No Shower!!
In 2012 I began my second year in prison. Facing another 7 years behind bars I wrestled with clinical depression as I struggled to maintain contact with my children while working a prison job. My oldest son, meanwhile, joined the Army and headed to boot camp, from where he sent frequent letters to me.
I discuss serious depression and its effects, with complete transparency including my inability to even shower for nearly 6 months. I share the joy of parenting, even in a difficult situation and the importance of family connections. Are you struggling with serious depression? Are you a parent looking for support? You’ll find steps you can begin today to feel connected to your children in every situation.
TRANSCRIPT:
Are you parenting in a difficult situation? Do you need solutions and strength?
Join me on my journey through prison as I learn being mom despite distance and incarceration. From daily challenges to pride as I follow my son on his own journey through the Army, discover with me the secret to powerful parenting in any circumstance.
Learn steps you can begin today! Listen until the end, you won’t want to miss a word. This is no pie and 6 months no shower.
It was January 2012 and I worked in General Assembly inspecting gaskets at base pay, 50 cents an hour. PIE work, given out on seniority, paid $4-$6 per hour. I set my sights on top pay and planned. I didn’t have long to wait.
One afternoon prison guards entered, strolled through the room and halted at a nearby desk. A co-worker doing PIE work peered up in surprise. I held my breath and waited. I was next in line for PIE work. All that stood in my way were the current employees doing the work. My hopes soared! Could this be the day coming sooner than I expected?
“Stand up,” they told her. My co-worker set down her work, resignation on her face. As she stood a guard clicked handcuffs on her wrists. The room, quiet before was now dead silent. All eyes watched the drama. Work was boring and this was something to talk about.
The guards led my co-worker out of the room and off to seg. Boy was I happy – delighted! I hoped she never came back! Thank God for the police! God, however, was about to teach me a lesson about rejoicing at another’s bad day.
The next day I came to work, eager to start earning top dollar for the first time. I was already spending future paychecks on imaginary canteen. Clenching three boxes of work, my boss left his office and made a path towards my desk. Humming happily I watched him as he dropped the boxes on my desk.
As he arranged the work in front of me, a phone began ringing behind him in his office. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, shuffling off to answer it. I stared at the work on my desk and waited, toes tapping, still shopping in my head.
A few minutes later he returned and began scooping the boxes back up. Confused, I watched as he removed the boxes he’d delivered only minutes ago. Reading my expression he announced, “I’m sorry. Our vendor just called and cancelled the PIE work contract. Please continue your regular work instead.” Lurching back to his office, he stopped to pitch my dreams in the trash by the door.
shocked, my head felt wooden. I could not believe that had just happened. What are the odds of that timing? It felt like a cruel joke. Next I thought, What are my options? I quickly discovered the other half of General Assembly still earned PIE work.
I immediately requested a transfer. I felt it couldn’t happen fast enough. Transfer granted, I worked to learn this new job so I could do well. It was a weird job and I just wanted to understand expectations of me and how to do well so I could earn the most money possible. Praise was also welcome.
March 19th, 2012
email subject: we got the box
Email From: Tommy
Message: Hi Mom we got the box you sent us it’s really nice I love love my hat and ring the ring fits perfect and so does the hat I sent you a picture with me wearing the hat. I hope you like it. Vivi thought the ring was hers so good thing I got it first. Vivi loves the purse you sent her and I painted my rocket for camp casey navy blue. I will take a picture of that too and sent it to you. Tim likes his had too. I like the inside and I love you too.
Love Tommy
Struggling with depression, stability remained a challenge for me. Forty hours a week – bankers hours – an impossible task for me to perform consistantly. We were all permitted one day off a month, and I always took it. sometimes, ok usually, I risked an extra day. Due to my attendance record I was never given a raise.
As a result of my skill on the job, I was giv...
Previous Episode
(08) RING TOSS & DOPPELGANGERS
Discover extra content in the blog post – Ring Toss & Doppelgangers!
In November 2011 I was finishing my first year in prison. I had recently been on suicide watch in the prison’s segregation unit after my husband left the state with our children. A brief stay afterwards in the prison’s mental health program had brought me to General Assembly – my newest job.
I share unique prison job experiences, unusual co-workers, supervisors, and guards I met in General Assembly and some unexpected life lessons I still use today in leadership positions I’ve been given.
I discuss making an impact in the lives of others, loving those around us in profound ways, and the small steps that can be taken today that make a big difference tomorrow.
TRANSCRIPT
Are you seeking purpose and direction? Are you eager to make a difference?
Join me as I navigate a prison job environment, encountering new challenges and unexpected lessons. Brace yourself for difficult coworkers and gripping tales of leadership.
Discover the dynamics of power, revealing defiance and resilience. We’ll reveal the secret to making a profound impact for others. Listen til the end, you won’t want to it! This, is Ring Toss and Dopplegangers!
I began my job in General Assembly at the end of November 2011. Also called Rubber, it was housed in a large warehouse building shared by several educational and industry job opportunities.
There were 2 main jobs – ring inspections and cutting rubber. Rings were actually gaskets needing quality control inspections. Cutting rubber involved trimming excess rubber from molded car parts. The room was divided in half, each with its own supervisor and leads. I was assigned to rings.
Base pay was 50 cents. It was an industry job though, and one could do “pie work” (work at non-prison wages) at $4-$6 per hour! I was eager for that privilege.
Working rings started by retrieving a tub of gaskets and returning to your desk. You examine each for flaws, removing small imperfections and rejecting ones with cracks. Slowly the tub would empty, rejects and perfects identified.
I was just getting settled when Danielle arrived, launching her new career in rings to my right. Danielle didn’t want this job. Why didn’t she take a sick every day until she was fired? “Sicking out” is an option.
Danielle was determined to get fired for bad behavior. Her new supervisor seemed determined to keep her here. A bizarre power struggle unfolded. It soon became clear Danielle was a veteran in this type of war.
Danielle employed several awesome bad behaviors with drama. She’d arrive at work and slap herself into her desk. Dramatically. Danielle was tall, in her 20’s, with long brown hair. Tossing her coat to the floor she’d stamp over to grab a tub of rings, much heavy sighing and shoulder heaving added for effect. Returning to her desk she’d begin a vigil.
She slept at her desk with a blue prison coat tucked under her chin. Snoring was an option. She occasionally awoke. Waiting to catch her supervisor’s eye, she’d toss rings high into the air ’round the room like candy at a parade. Gaskets bouncing and rolling across the floor, she’d continued to empty her tub of rings faster than the rest of us.
Interested (and outraged) I waited for our supervisor’s response. I thought she was awful. Gaskets rolled past my feet as I examined another one of my own for tiny cracks and set it in the perfects pile. I considered throwing a few at her back.
Officer Mike was the guard who ran our half of General Assembly. Mike would occasionally have a talk with Danielle. I would have preferred these talks be stern lectures and threats of discipline. They were not. It appeared Officer Mike was trying to help her. I do not remember the outcome, what happened to Danielle as relates to that job. I took this all in though. I was learning that guards can be people who care about people.
Can you relate to dealing with a difficult person? Have you been a difficult person at one time or another?
The other half of the room was run by a guard named Officer Kim. Miss Kim was small and intimidating. She didn’t take any crap. She ran General Assembly much like the classrooms at the private school I grew up in. Stern. She missed nothing.
No talking, and there was no talking. People were afraid to talk and if they did it was in hushed whispers. She could still hear you and would come out of the office to chide the room. She sent an inmate to seg once for having a pen. To be fair, she commanded the inmate to turn over the pen. Three times. The inmat...
Next Episode
(10) SEX OFFENDER (S0) TREATMENT: Personal Growth and Transformation
Discover extra content in the blog post Sex Offender (SO) Treatment!!
During my prison experience in 2012, I initially resisted a sex offender treatment program, feeling misunderstood and defensive. Embracing change, I pursued a new job and healthy lifestyle, losing weight and feeling better.
I share difficult experiences such as a misunderstanding in jail, and I describe parenting from behind bars and my joyful reunion with my children after a year and a half.
I discuss my difficult journey in personal growth and relapse into deeper depression. Are you working towards change today? Are you fearful it won’t ‘stick?’ Learn the difference between behavior modification and permanent life transformation and how you can start today.
TRANSCRIPT
Are you interested in extraordinary personal growth? Do you want to feel great and live a transformed life?
Join me as we explore my prison experience, navigating a sex offender treatment program, a new job, and newfound opportunities. Discover unexpected moments of hope and profound lessons learned along the way.
From resistance to redemption, we’ll uncover the secret to permanent total life transformation and how you can begin today! Listen until the end, you won’t want to miss a word! This is sex offender treatment.
Told sex offender treatment would remove barriers and open doors to privileges, I nevertheless began in December 2012 with an attitude problem. I’d asked repeatedly over the past year to be admitted to the program as early as possible, yet now that I was here, I felt vulnerable.
Intake began with hours of psychological testing, both written and interviewed. Afterwards I sulked in the treatment director’s office, arms crossed, sullen. Noticing my posture she pointed out, “You look upset.”
Miserable, I explained, “I don’t understand why I need sex offender treatment. This is stupid. I am NOT a pedophile!” Having voiced my concern, I glared at the wall. My face burned. I felt hostile, defensive. I was ready to do anything necessary to remove barriers for myself as a parent, but I was outraged at the requirements.
The director leaned over and responded, “We don’t think you are a pedophile. That’s not the purpose of the treatment.”
Surprised, I removed my glare from the wall and shifted my gaze to her desk, considering. My thoughts returned to a time nearly 3 years earlier. Recently arrested, I sat in county jail waiting for bail to be posted. One day I was told a psychologist was there to interview me for sentencing recommendations.
“Ms. Aho, you have a professional visit. Come with me.” Sitting at a table I looked up in surprise. The guard nodded and pointed at the door. I turned to follow her gaze. Another guard waited outside the red door, his face visible through the window.
I stood, smoothed my shirt, and walked to the entrance of the pod. The door clicked open, and I joined the guard in the hall. We headed for a small legal visiting room. As we neared, I could see a woman waiting for me inside. A metal table sat in the middle of the small room.
The door clicked open, and I was led inside. I studied the woman as I sat. She was medium everything, medium size, medium coloring, medium age. She didn’t smile as the guard left us alone, the door clicking behind him.
Nervously I looked around and waited. I began to feel shaky, anxiety tightening my stomach up. The woman coughed and introduced herself, “I am here to ask you some questions, a psych evaluation,” she explained.
I nodded slightly, wondering. The woman picked up a notepad from the table, clutching it in her arms. She studied it a moment. Waiting, my ankle suddenly itched. Mumbling, “Excuse me,” I leaned forward to scratch my leg. Startled, the woman jumped backwards, away from me in fear, staring at my hand.
I am a small person, a mere 5 feet tall, 120 pounds. My crime included no violence, no weapons, no drugs, no addictions, nothing that would indicate a surprise physical attack from me might be likely. Bent forward, my hand still halfway to my ankle, I paused in surprise. Her fear scared me.
I peered up at her questioningly, my eyebrow arched. Frozen, she stared at my hand and didn’t notice. She looked terrified.
I finished scratching my ankle and sat back. I wanted to leave this room. This lady scared me. It seemed she had my psych eval already completed, some conclusions already formed. We hadn’t yet started but it couldn’t end well.
Returning to the present day, I studied our treatment director, my hostility returning. I demanded, “What am I here for then?”
Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her legs and responded, “Let me ask you a question. Why did you have sex with your son’s...
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