Its like I can’t breathe, im under water gasping for air, No oxygen, no thoughts to reason why I should live or dare. It’s like im suffocating with a plastic bag over my head, no escape no thoughts to process why I am dying.
It’s like im yelling help over and over and over and all I heard is people laughing at my demise.
It’s like a cut that won’t heal, a heart that won’t beat.
It’s like having eyes but can’t see, having ears but can’t hear. It’s like being in pain times a million knives stabbing me over and over and over. Am I alive? Can you hear me?
It’s like im banging my head against the wall, ramming my fist into glass windows over and over and over. The walls are talking to me telling me to kill myself. The walls are telling me I am worthless. The walls are closing on me and I can not outrun them. I am lost in a labyrinth, dead in a maze. It’s like im in a dungeon with no light, no fresh air or incentive to live. It’s like im in a desolate and barren field of death. It’s like im in a cave fighting for my life against bears, tigers and bats. It’s like im in a jungle being chased by a ferocious lion. It’s like im in a tub of acid and sulfur, burning alive, screaming to no one. It’s like i am in a tree 9000 ft. in the sky about to jump to the ground with a smile on my face, happy I am about to commit suicide. Nobody cares nobody can hear my cries. It’s like im in an ocean swimming with sharks and killer whales being eaten alive. It’s like im being bitten by a billion fireants and scorpions and im still alive. It’s like im being stab with a million needles and cut with a scapel laced with alcohol.
They ask me what does it feel like to be in solitary confinement for so ling and this is what I think of. My mind can not fathom anything but pain and torture. I’d rather walk on broken glass and eat rat poison. I’d rather put my hand on a burning stove and saw my leg off with a chainsaw. Thats how solitary confinement feels: LIKE TORTURE! Everyday I wonder is this the day I will lose my mind? Is this the day I will succumb to self-harm? Is this the day I will succeed in suicide? The mind of solitary plays its tricks on me consistently.
Murray Unit, Gatesville, Texas
6 years in solitary / ad seg
February 16, 2023
Words by BRITNEY GULLEY
Photography by TEXAS LETTERS