My privacy on a platter

At this point in my marriage, I`ve gotten used to the fact that there is no privacy. Letters are scanned, phone calls are recorded, and the only tiny bit of privacy I might have is when I`m visiting my husband and we speak quietly. Other than that, my words and heart are on display, constantly under surveillance, which I`ve grown accustomed to, but which I`ve also grown incredibly tired of.

I`m always careful about what I say, and how I say it, and it seems that my rights to express myself freely to my other half were stolen years ago. Lately my mail to my husband has been getting delayed. Where it usually only takes 3 days for a letter to reach him, it has been taking a week and beyond and that is because they are “monitoring” his mail. Why? Mostly likely because they(whoever “they” is at the prison) has caught wind that legal action is being pursued over the corruption and scandalous behavior of the department of corrections. The last time my mail was delayed like this was before my husband was transferred from medium security to maximum security after he was set up at Lovelock Correctional Center and a guard falsified her report to have institutional charges brought against him. They did quite a bit of delaying and “losing” of my mail to my husband before he was transferred. Now it seems that the staff at Ely State Prison have begun some sort of close monitoring.

It’s always comforting to know that someone’s fingers, whom I did not intended to, glide across my bleeding heart on paper. They must enjoy reading about my personal thoughts, my daily habits, and non-threatening existence. What irritates me is that they hold onto my letters for days. They are supposed to deliver mail or mark it as “unauthorized” within 24 hours, yet they hold my mail for a week or so, reading it, forming opinions, and probably even making copies of them for their records. Someone is making copies of my admissions of love to my husband, the fact that I`ve been depressed lately and everything else that flows from my mind and onto paper. They make copies of what I did on the weekend, how I enjoy kissing my spouse, my hopes and my dreams. The only privacy I have in my marriage is my thoughts and even those feel infiltrated at times.

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About Desiree

Living my truth, one post at a time. View all posts by Desiree

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