When I walked out of prison, I thought I’d finally found freedom. The shackles were off, and the world was mine to explore. However, the truth is that I was still trapped. The trauma of my experience lingered, a constant reminder that some wounds run deeper than steel and stone.

Inside, I found solace in the unlikeliest of places.  Fellow inmates, my discovery of poetry, the quiet strength of my Christian faith, and the camaraderie of those who understood the darkness. It was a glimmer of hope in a place designed to break me. I counted down the days, eager to leave behind the sounds, the smells, and the suffocating confinement.

But as I stepped into the world outside, I realised that freedom wasn’t just a physical state, it’s a mental and emotional one too. The PTSD was a constant companion, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on my vulnerabilities. Crowds became a challenge, confined spaces a trigger, and darkness a reminder of the cell I’d left behind.

It’s not that I didn’t deserve punishment; I did. I committed a crime, and I paid the price. But what about the preparation for life after? What about the support for those of us trying to rebuild, to rediscover ourselves outside the razor wire?

We need to talk about the trauma of prison. Not just the physical scars, but the emotional and psychological ones that linger long after release. The sounds of prison still echo in my head, the clang of steel doors, the yells in the night, the silence that’s louder than any scream. The memories seep into my dreams, and sometimes, I wake up wondering if it’s all just a bad dream.

But I’m not here to share my story for sympathy. I’m here to say that we’re failing those who are released from prison. We’re sending them back into the world with scars, but no map to navigate the minefield of triggers and anxieties. We’re expecting them to ‘just get on with it’, without acknowledging the trauma they’ve endured.

We need better support systems, more resources for rehabilitation, and a willingness to listen to those who’ve walked the walk. We need to recognise that release from prison isn’t the end of the journey, it’s just the beginning.

For those who think a prison sentence is a neat, tidy package, think again. The trauma doesn’t stay behind bars; it follows you, a constant reminder of the past. And for those who’ve experienced it, it’s a harsh reality check: freedom isn’t just a word; it’s a privilege, a gift, and a struggle.

I’m still navigating this new world, still learning to cope, and still finding my way. But I’m not alone. There are others out there, fighting similar battles, and it’s time we started talking about it. It’s time we started listening.

So, to those who’ve been where I am, hold on. To those who’ve never experienced it, listen. And to those who think we’re ‘just’ ex-prisoners, think again. We’re human beings, deserving of compassion, understanding, and support.

Let’s break the silence, and let’s start the conversation. Let’s work towards a world where prison isn’t just a punishment, but a stepping stone towards redemption and rehabilitation.

Written by Darren Parker

Blogger @PoemStellium