March 13, 2014~

G here.  I am sitting here in my cell, trying to keep from dying of sheer boredom, but it ain't easy.  

I am missing my boy, C, Jr., real bad.  I wish I could see him or at least hold him in my arms one more time.  I also miss C, his daddy.  I know I am a screw up; I just hope that C and C., Jr. will find it in their heart to forgive me, especially when C., Jr. gets old enough.

I am sure he will have questions, many, many questions, about where his momma (me) is and why she isn't a part of his life.  I am sure he will ask about why I am in prison and if I will ever get out on parole (or eventually, freedom).

There isn't a day where I don't cry whenever I think about what's happened.  When I killed my husband, I get majorly depressed.  I am on medication, but it doesn't appear to be helping.  I wonder if killing myself will be the answer; it seems to be the only viable solution, because I am so miserable right now it isn't even funny.

I have been trying to keep my mind busy by reading or by journaling, but it doesn't seem to be getting anywhere.  Whenever I am not journaling or reading (or exercising or going to my counselor appointments here at the prison; I talk to my counselor twice a week), I lie in my bunk and read or journal (or daydream).  Whenever I DO let my mind wander, I think of C and of C., Jr., and I wonder what kind of life they're leading.  

They're probably a lot better off without me.  In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if C. dumps me for another woman because there's such a stigma about someone being in prison (for whatever reason it may be).

Well, I'm gonna go; feel like crying again.  Seems that's all I have done ever since I first came here.  I am so sorry I screwed up, God; will You ever find it in Your heart to forgive me for the terrible things I have done??

~G.

~To be continued!~