Skip to main content

This Isn’t a Mistake. This Is a Pattern.

I’m past frustrated.

At this point, I’m done pretending any of this is accidental.

Today, my husband’s grandmother, the ONLY approved visitor on his list, received an email saying her visit this weekend has been canceled.

No warning.
No explanation that makes sense.
Just “visiting privileges are suspended by administration.”

Here’s the problem with that.

My husband has received ZERO notice.

No write up.
No disciplinary ticket.
No explanation.
Nothing.

So how exactly are privileges being “suspended” when the person they belong to hasn’t even been informed?

Now let’s talk about timing.

Because this didn’t happen in a vacuum.

Earlier today, I was contacted by the Arizona Department of Corrections legal department in response to my formal concerns about ongoing violations, specifically the complete restriction of communication between my husband and I, and how that directly impacts my federally recognized disability rights under the ADA.

No ADA representative has evaluated me.
No legal validation has been provided.
Yet communication has been cut off.

And then on that exact same day, his ONLY approved visit gets canceled.

No notice.
No explanation.
No documentation on his end.

You can call that coincidence if you want.

I don’t.

Because from where I’m standing, this doesn’t look random.

It looks like a pattern.

A pattern of cutting communication.
A pattern of interference.
A pattern of decisions being made without explanation or documentation.

And it doesn’t stop there.

While all of this is happening, my husband is inside a unit where he has to stay on high alert for his own safety. The environment around him is volatile, and the risk is real.

So let me get this straight.

You cut off his only approved visit.
You don’t notify him.
You leave him in an environment where his safety is already a concern.

And I’m supposed to believe this is just policy?

No.

This is the part people don’t see when they hear “prison wife.”

They don’t see the constant uncertainty.
They don’t see the fear that sits in your chest when something isn’t right and you have no control over fixing it.
They don’t see how quickly things escalate behind those walls while the outside world gets fed generic explanations.

“Suspended by administration.”

That means nothing without accountability.

That means nothing without transparency.

And it definitely means nothing when it interferes with the only connection a man has to his family.

I’ve lived on both sides of this system.

I wore the uniform. I carried the keys. I know how things are supposed to work.

And I also know what it looks like when they don’t.

This isn’t a misunderstanding.

This is a pattern.

And I’m done staying quiet about it.

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about a canceled visit.

It’s about connection.
It’s about support.
It’s about basic human access to family.

And when that starts getting taken away without cause?

That’s not order.

That’s damage.

So no, I’m not letting this go.

Not this time. Not any time.

Because the truth is…

The system only gets away with this when people stay quiet.

And I’m not quiet anymore. DO FUCKING BETTER ADCRR! 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Truth About Prison Relationships

  by Ryan People love to say things like: “She’ll move on.” “It’s not real love.” “He’s just using her.” “She’s wasting her life.” Let me be clear: They don’t know a damn thing about prison relationships. They don’t know what it’s like to hold onto love through walls,   wire,  and years. They don’t know what it’s like to fall asleep wondering if she’s okay and wake up praying she hasn’t given up on you yet. They don’t know what it takes for a woman to stay committed to a man society already threw away. And they sure as hell don’t know what it’s like to love someone you can’t touch, can’t hold, can’t protect— but still fight for every single day. My relationship isn't built on physical closeness. It’s built on trust. On pain. On redemption. On showing up for each other through letters, through phone calls, through the worst days of our lives. And let me say this loud and clear: She didn’t wait on me. She stood up for me. When I couldn’t speak, she spoke. When I couldn’t be...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
2 comments
Read more