Everything Starts With One Step, My First Step Was in Prison

1 year ago, on May 25th, my life changed.

1 day changed everything, but it required 6 years to create that 1 day.

And, as with any journey, regardless of its length, there has to be a first step.

My first step was in the Otisville Federal Prison Library.

I sat, trapped within the confines of a self-imposed prison cell of shame. Alone at rock bottom with the man who was responsible.

I hated that man; I hated that man so much I wanted him dead.

I’d go to sleep at night, begging and praying for the hand of death to kill me in my sleep. I’d wake up every morning disappointed at the light of a new day.

Suicide became a viable option; I needed and longed for the escape.

I couldn’t share with anyone how I was feeling; if you mention suicide in prison, you get locked in solitary.

I was already alone at rock bottom with the man responsible; the idea of being in solitary with that man scared the hell out of me.

So I bottled it up.

Until I took my 1st step.

I opened my black and white composition notebook, picked up my Bic pen, and I began to write.