Haunted by What I Left Behind: The Lingering Guilt of Silence

Every day I wake up, there’s a part of me that’s still haunted by what I left behind in that prison. Not just the concrete walls, the endless rules, and the broken system, but the guilt that I didn’t speak up sooner. That guilt has lingered, hanging over me like a shadow, reminding me of the silence I once carried. I often ask myself, “Why didn’t I do more? Why didn’t I speak out then?”

The truth is, it wasn’t as simple as just speaking up. When you’re entrenched in a system designed to strip everyone of their humanity — inmates and staff alike — it becomes harder to see your way out, much less make a change from within. At the time, survival meant keeping my head down, following the rules, and making it through each day without becoming another casualty of the system.

But as time passed and I walked away, that survival mode didn’t let me rest. The guilt grew. It was no longer about just doing my job — it was about the broken system I left behind and the voices that were still silenced. I was one of those silenced voices for far too long.

Today, I’m learning how to release that guilt, piece by piece. I may not have had the power to speak up back then, but I do now. It’s taken time, healing, and self-forgiveness to get to this point, but I’m here. I’m using this platform to talk about what I couldn’t say before: the corruption, the mistreatment, and the souls trapped behind bars — both literally and metaphorically.

It’s not easy to confront the past, especially when it’s filled with moments of silence I wish I could change. But every word I write now is a step forward in reclaiming my voice and making sure that what I left behind doesn’t continue without accountability.

The prison system is a heavy place — one that weighs on everyone inside it. My journey from being part of that world to leaving it behind isn’t over. But one thing I know for certain: I won’t be silenced again. I will speak for those who still don’t have the freedom to do so, and I will continue to share my story, unfiltered and unapologetic.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” — Romans 8:1

#PowerOfOurVoices #EppersonEmpowerment #FromGuardToWife #BreakingTheSilence #HealingThroughTruth #SpeakingOut #NoMoreGuilt

Comments

Exposing the Deadly Reality at La Palma Correctional Facility: How Many More Have to Die?

For years, La Palma Correctional Facility in Eloy, Arizona, has been a hotspot for controversy, yet little has been done to address the rampant corruption, officer misconduct, and systemic failures that have turned it into a living hell for those incarcerated within its walls. Most recently, another inmate has died—one of many whose deaths could have been prevented if those in charge had taken real action instead of covering up their negligence. On January 2, 2025, I fought to have my husband moved out of La Palma due to the sheer volume of drugs flooding the yard, which were being brought in by correctional officers. I reported specific names to the Special Security Unit (SSU), thinking that doing the right thing would bring change. Instead, my concerns fell on deaf ears. Now, here we are, with more inmates losing their lives—many of these deaths are suspected overdoses, yet little to no investigation ever seems to result in actual change. A History of Negligence and Deaths This lates...

Another FBOP Failure: Tammy's Story — When “Funding” Becomes a Death Sentence

Here we go again. Another woman, another broken promise behind razor wire. Another excuse that starts with “funding” and ends with neglect. Tammy’s story is not new. It’s not unique. And that’s the biggest tragedy of all. Because her life—and her vision—matter. And so does every other person sitting in a Federal Bureau of Prisons (FBOP) facility, hoping for even the most basic human care. Recently, Tammy reached out to share what’s been going on at her facility, and I think it speaks for itself: "Recently I wrote about how the BOP seems to be broke. They took away several items at food service due to funding—like the salad bar (which, by the way, was just plain lettuce mix and generic dressing), they’ve limited eggs (maybe understandable with the bird flu), and removed extra items like beans and rice. What I didn’t mention, but probably should have, is that my prison doesn’t even repurpose leftovers. They literally throw away pounds and pounds of food daily from our kitche...

Until You’ve Walked Through Those Gates, Sit Down and Be Quiet

-By DeAnna You see memes like this floating around all the time — the ones that crack jokes about how “good” inmates supposedly have it. You know the ones: they talk about sex three times a day, reading books, working out, and then “complaining” about prison life. People laugh, hit share, and feel smug because they think they know something about what it’s like inside. I used to be one of them. I used to think prison was “right.” I believed it was what people deserved if they broke the law. I repeated the clichés: “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” “Three hots and a cot.” “They’ve got it easy in there.” And then… I worked there. Let me tell you something: until you’ve walked through those locking gates — hearing that buzzer, watching that steel door slam behind you, feeling the air shift from free to suffocating — you don’t know a damn thing about prison. Until you’ve seen the reality — the mace, the gas grenades, the cell extractions that leave blood on the floor, the...

From Guard to Wife: My Journey in the Shadows of the Justice System

Search This Blog