I almost killed myself on April 08, 2020 in Redgranite Correctional Institution in Redgranite, Wisconsin.
I’d had enough this day. I exposed a few officers and the unit manager, calling them on what they have been doing. After a few threats to their safety and mine, I was detained and taken to the restricted housing unit and placed on observation status. I was stripped naked and given a vest that hung to my knees and placed in a cold concrete cell with extremely bright lighting. A few hours went by and I started complaining about the numbness in my hands and toes, and the light. I was ignored. I finally sat on the plastic mat they had on the floor and balled up to bring my feet and hands under the gown for warmth. This did minimal to help me get warm as only so much of my body could fit inside the gown. On top of this, there was a vent in the wall at the back of the cell blowing cool air hard all across the cell. The vent blowing the air was about one foot off of the floor and the cool air hit me in all corners across from it. The last two corners on the wall with the vent had the metal toilet sink combination on one side and the shower on the other.
I decided to pull the plastic mat up to the wall and used what amounted to half of it to block the cool air. This put me on the floor between the scummy toilet and the shower drain, both had a powerful old stale water stench to them. It also put close to half of my body on the cold cement floor. As I lay there, I unbuckled the vest and attempted to bring my head under the gown to escape the bright light. This only worked when balled into a fetal position. I also started itching and scratching, thinking that it was the stickiness of my body to the mat that was causing the sensation. I then heard a loud banging on the glass at the door. I looked in the direction and the officer walked away. I continued to try and get some sleep, this is when I noticed that aside of my body sticking to the half of the mat I could lay on, were two kinds of winged insects that had been biting me. Another loud banging on the door as I lay there it repeated until I looked up and the officer walked away again. It seemed that if I was moving then they wouldn’t bang. But after I noticed they banged on the door every 10 minutes.
I began to plot the best way to kill myself in this position; it would be a swan dive off of the sink to the hard cement floor. More banging interrupted my thoughts and I decided it may not be a sure thing. I could end up just paralyzed doing time. My night went on enduring the insects bites, sticking to the mat, extreme lights, and loud banging on the door. I could tell that the shift changed and it meant morning. I got up to use the toilet and breakfast came. Two cold stale bread sandwiches. I paced the room to try and warm up but nothing helped my hands and feet. I had a bowel movement and was provided only 8 squares of single ply toilet paper to wipe with. I asked for soap to wash my hands with and was told “no”. I forcefully rinsed my hands several times in the sink. I began pacing again, and once again considered the swan dive off the sink to just be done with it all. I noticed a lot of officers outside the cell by the officer station. I stood at the window to see what all the commotion was. Apparently someone died and was discovered that morning. He was being taken out in a body bag on a gurney. I spent the rest of the morning pacing and disturbed about this. Thinking if the man was at peace and if it was the Covid-19 virus that killed him.
Lunch came and I felt in worse condition mentally than when I first came. Two stale bread cold sandwiches again. As I tried to eat I kept smelling a foul odor like someone was in the cell with me decaying. It only took two bites to notice my hands and fingers had a stank of fecal residue from my morning movement. I gagged and vomited a little in my mouth. Then thinking about what was on my hands forced me to spit it in the toilet. I just couldn’t swallow. I scrubbed my hands some more but the smell was still there. I hate being hungry so I forced myself to finish one of the sandwiches. Then I thought letting hunger set in with all the misery would push me to do the swan dive. There was a knock on the door. The psych doctor had come to see me asking if I still wanted to hurt myself or others. The truth was that at the time, I wanted even more than before, but I knew that was not what she wanted to hear. So I lied to her and told her “no”. She told me she would get me released back to the general population.
No problem was addressed here. The night under those conditions didn’t fix the issue and only worsened any mental illness there may be. So crazy in the system.
