Consumer Prisoner Writes from the SHU
Mental illness results in cruel punishment in prisons
Carlos Sabater
Carlos Sabater is a mental health consumer who has been released recently from a New York State prison after suffering the degradations of life in a special housing unit (SHU) for over five months. The SHU is a tiny room with little or no light where prisoners who break the rules are locked away 23-hours per day in isolation. Rules are too often broken by people who have mental illnesses. Below is his last letter from the SHU.
These days continue to languish slowly from one to the other. I find myself wishing the days would hurry up and pass on to the next so I can get out of this prison.
Each day I am confronted with a greater obstacle to overcome. [I cannot] look forward to days filled with anguish and exhaustion that demand every ounce of strength to remain focused until the nights come and I can try to lose myself within its darkness.
I [find myself in] a fetal position, believing that’s how it was when I was still in my mother’s womb.
I search for an escape from this prison that has a hold of my mind without my consent. I am tormented with visions. [When combined with] what I believe I am hearing [I remain very] uncomfortable.
[I have recently received] a diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder that was packaged and delivered for me with regular issuance of psychotropic medications like Seroquel and Zoloft. Are these supposed to be the keys that will release me from my horrendous prison?
This mental illness, the thoughts that haunts me day in and day out, shadows my very existence. Living in fear of the ghosts, illusions, and delusions is like treading on thin ice, wondering if the next step taken will deliver the pressure and weight that’ll break the ice. I [believe that I] have…schizophrenia…with anxiety…and paranoia.
How will I ever be released from this prison that disturbs me even when I dwell in the immense darkness of the night in a fetal position seeking comfort, protection and warmth?
I fight to keep myself from being swept away by the conditions of my mental prison and I seek that light at the end of the tunnel that is often spoken of by those imprisoned. This light is the hope I have that all of you know [about our situation here] and that there are people who [will fight for our] release.
It is my hope [to reach] the light at the end of the tunnel where I’ll be freed of the haunting, the sorrow, the grief, anguish and exhaustion. I just can’t wait to be freed.
I want to get well and enjoy life instead of having to fear it.
I have read the book Invisible Man sent to me and enjoyed it. It has a lot of jewels worth keeping in my mind. I can definitely relate to being invisible myself especially after being misdiagnosed. It is one hell of a struggle to live in this manner.
Jennifer Parish from the Urban Justice Center sent me information. I wrote her back and told her that I [had been assured that I would be] released soon and that I do have a mental illness. I also wrote to Lisa Ortega from RIPPD (Rights for Incarcerated Prisoners with Psych Disabilities) and sent her a few papers and letters about what’s assisting with discharge planning. Maybe they can help make a difference in this prison for others in similar situations.
Other than that, I…ask you to please thank everyone for me. Even if they are not assisting me personally, I’m sure they are assisting someone with a mental illness who is struggling to remain well and within the realm of reality.