January Darts
For the month of January, Mankato artist Dana Sikkila will be creating a daily blog about her extreme day to day lifestyle.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Approaching the Finsh Line, and More to Go.
Over the past week my emotional level
has turned me into a verbal snapping turtle. It's hard to stay calm
about things when you spend your nights sleeping on foam board, and
having to watch TV while listening to repeated incomplete
conversations. Jail isn't something that is physically demanding,
but is an emotionally damaging roller coaster. While inside, taking
a few low blows has definitely gotten to my head, which I'm sure has
happened to many a few. My words to the public have definitely pissed
people off, but these words have also opened conversations from those
who've shared similar trials as mine. With these two sides fighting,
it makes my mental cradle rock. One second you're ok with the idea of
being locked up for the crime you've committed, but then the next it
seems like you'd do anything to take it back; there's no winning in
jail.
This week has truly tested my ability
to stay afloat. With working 40 hours, running the gallery through
emails and phone calls, as well as taking on the stress of following
rules and regulations of being contained, there's no more energy to
go around. Work release has been my savior within this whole
process, but with having to juggle real life with temporary life,
it's still proven to be a great challenge. I'm not about to let 10
days in jail damage years of effort I've put in to creating the
person I am today. Yes, I've made mistakes and I'm sure you have too,
but I'm over those mistakes and doing time in jail is just something
a lot of us have to do. Knowing that this time I'm spending was in
my near future, I wanted to turn the tables on it by sharing my
reactions with people who cared to read. It's definitely not a walk
in the park, but it's also not comparable to being burned at the
stake. Just don't fuck up and you won't have to find out.
When you read this I will be finishing
my last several hours within the county jail. It's so close it
almost makes me anxiously sick to the point that it can be hard to
hold down sleep for the night. Not wanting to eat much to keep my
energy low, I snack on small chips and fruit. I'm hoping to keep this
low enthusiasm going since, I'm not having to wake up in the morning
and report to work. I'll be able to sleep more steadily through the
next day to ignore the thoughts of the hours getting more and more
decreased.
But once I wake up Saturday morning it
will be less than 24 hours till my release, and till I feel like
myself again. Over this time I'm thankful for my friends, family,
and coworkers for the support through emails, phone calls, and
conversation. Also to my readers who I know, and to those who I've
never met, thank you for the random emails of humorous fuck-ups and
serious matters. The month of January has already thrown me in
circles without wanting to dance. But with it not stopping anytime
soon, I plan to take things as they come, no matter how rough the
road may be. It's all smooth sailing from here.
"Cheated Hearts" - Yeahs Yeahs Yeahs
"Cheated Hearts" - Yeahs Yeahs Yeahs
Thursday, January 10, 2013
They Come and They Go
It's Thursday, and I'm happy to say
after today I only have two more days left of being held inside the
clink. I'm ready to get rid of my constant nose bleeds from the dry
jail air, I know they must import it from McShitville. I hope to
spend Friday being completely overloaded at work till my brain
explodes, and in the evening, confining myself to my private dorm
room to finish up my newly composed artist statement. How many other
artists can say they've written their statement while in jail? I'm
sure not too many, so I do plan to milk that for what it's worth.
With tomorrow marking a week of being
incarcerated, I've seen ladies come and go out of the housing unit.
Even though I haven't known these women for very long, and not to say
I like them or they like me, I still got a tiny glimpse into who they
are, and once they've left, the space seems to change. But when it
comes down to it, it's not always how long you spent inside, but what
you choose to do once you've escaped (in a legal way). I plan to hang
out with Murphy and draw picture; that's a good thing so I must be
cured.
Bring these to me! |
But with these big plans on hold till
Sunday morning, I will wait for tomorrow to come. I'm excited for my
last day of work release, and in case you hadn't heard, I will be
taking Diet Pepsi donations throughout the day. My plan is to pump my
veins so full that I will hopefully survive until Sunday morning.
Cross your fingers.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Girls
When returning from work tonight I'll make sure to keep my mouth shut about my limited time outside the holding cell today. Yesterday I made the mistake of mentioning the food I was able to eat, and with the rest of the girls forced to eat watered down soup with peas and carrots for lunch, let's just say I wouldn't have been picked first to play the friendship game. A day or two ago I thought the number one killer of being incarcerated was the idea of confinement, but I'm now learning jealousy is a close runner up. You're not going to make many friends if you get any visitors, have the nicer shampoo, or even if you choose the television channel that the majority of the time no one watches.
You thought the girl sitting next to you in science class might not like the idea of you getting a better grade then her, try having 12 girls you live with, by no choice, be jealous of the extra butter you got at dinner. Learn that girls can be crazy no matter where you are, it's just the level of crazy that can change.
For example, last night the topic of conversation was men, I guess the majority of the time the conversations deal with dudes. I understand a few of these ladies have been inside the bars for a while now, and miss the idea of the male population. Sometimes even watching TV gets to be a challenge. I could see yes, Mark Wahlberg or Johnny Depp coming onto the television and hearing, “oh, he's pretty cute,” but it's when we're watching the local news and scopping out the up and coming criminals, hoping to get a glimpse of them in the hallway or through in the window while in recreation. I guess there is a Jack for every Jill, but sometimes when there's only three Jacks and three Jills, your options are as slim as early winter ice.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Christmas in January
Today is the closest thing to Christmas
morning for an adult as you can get. After waking up to blinding
lights up top my ceiling and ignoring the breakfast bell I stayed in
to complete my morning routine in time for my first day of work
release. Finally getting to step back into my jeans and murphy vest
reminded me to not take my identity for granted. Being welcomed to
work with coffee and soda was like opening my first presents at
Christmas and getting the new bike and dolly I had been asking for.
With the rest of work being spent
catching up on assignments, I took time on my breaks to talk to my
family and friends. With recognizing their support I was unable to
compose a fully detailed blog. First things first, and family and
friends should always be on the top of that list.
With the feeling of my independence
some what back I know the rest of the week should fly by and the
thought of early Sunday morning coffee at Perkins would soon be
approaching.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Stories From the Sharing Circle
As the day continued, my relationships
with the other girls started to open. I found myself inside gossip
of: “she said, he said”, and emotional stories of crime,
children, and even cancer. The majority of women in here are not too
much younger or older than myself. With experiences ranging from
years of being in and out of jail, insecure households, abusive
relationships, to addiction. It makes us think as humans how far we
have to go to improve ourselves. They say it starts with our
surroundings, which is why they put you in here. But for some it
seems the scars are too deep to be fixed with just “sitting time”.
Since I've been here phone messages regarding deceased boyfriends,
cheating husbands, and family problems flood the phone lines. Angry
outbursts followed by tears fill the housing unit. With nowhere else
to go I find myself being involved in the situations due to just
being another person in the room. You never realize how hard life can
be until you feel the experience of it through the mouth of it's
victims. The women who I call my roommates are incarcerated for
offenses ranging from drug trafficking, trespassing, to arson. With
10 other women sitting in the Sharing Circle, I could overflow 10
blogs with the intense stories I've been told.
Do any of them intimidate or scare me?
No, because I know that at the end of the day we are all somewhat
similar; we all need to be fixed sometimes.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
F203
Last night after passing through the
metal doors, a sense of calm came over my body. I was ready to get
this shit over with. As I waited for my turn to be called, a man
entered through the door. Glancing my direction he said: “I saw you
in the paper”. After a small one-sided conversation about his
thirty-six day sentence and weather curiosity, I was directed into
another door. As I was about to turn my back, the man said slightly
under his breath: “Good luck Dana”. The thought of how I never
introduced myself to him pulled a trigger in my head, making me
realize that people in here are waiting to read what I write.
After signing in, and agreeing to be
nice and to mind my own business, I showered and was handed my new
navy colored attire and croc shoes. I was handed a tote filled with
bed sheets, which reminded me of my freshman year of college. I was
also given items such as toilet paper, a tooth brush and a comb. I
declined a second roll of toilet paper, due to my plan to keep my
food and liquid intake low, as to not have to pee too much right next
to my place of rest.
Following behind the officer, we
entered the housing unit. We came upon a large open space filled with
tables and chairs; Seinfeld was playing on the television. Scattered
groups of women sat around the tables coloring images of Scooby-Doo
and Disney princesses. Cells lined the perimeter of the open space
and were stacked two stories high. Up the stairs we walked, where the
officer assigned me a cell. Explaining a couple of rules, she left me
to figure out the rest for myself.
The remainder of the evening I spent
searching the old coloring books for blank pages to write on as well
as browsing through used books and movies. A little television sits
next to the table of books that they use to show exercise tapes. Jane
Fonda's Start Up VHS sat on top of the pile. I guess girls in
here have been trying to get in shape since the 80's. Sitting at one
of the empty tables, I started to write down the characteristics of
my surroundings. With the rest of the women randomly wandering
around, I didn't pay too much attention to what they were doing. With
my head stuck in my paper, I was spooked by a loud voice yelling out
swear words, and (in a nice way), repeating threats of “mind your
own business” to the woman across from me. Minding MY own business
(like I signed up for), I just took notes and watched it unfold from
the corner of my eye. 10 minutes passed and it seemed the air had
calmed down. Trying to write seemed too difficult with the
distractions of the TV and the women surrounding me. I headed to my
cell, which I like to call my dorm room, to write and listen to the
radio for the rest of the evening. In and out of writing, I glanced
at the pages of my newest book. Adam Steele: Bloody Border.
There's nothing like ending your evening reading snippets about
widowers and the blood they wanted to spill... eek!... maybe not the
best reading material for here.
Lights
out at 12:30am, but the radio plays through the darkness. I guess you
could say Michael Jackson and Fergie sang me to sleep.
This
morning up at 6:30am like normal, newspaper, diet pepsi and TV... not
the worst yet.
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