No Rest Behind the Wall: Byron Speaks!!

amcjami
Sep 19
3 min read

No Rest Behind the Wall: Byron Speaks on Sleep Deprivation and Survival in Prison

By Jamesina GreeneFounder, A Mother’s Cry

When my son Byron told me he only gets two to three hours of sleep each night, my heart clenched. Not from surprise, but from the weight of a truth too many people don’t hear—or don’t want to hear.

I asked him, “Why?”

His response was raw and real:

“Because it’s never quiet. It’s never dark. And it’s never safe.”

What Keeps a Man Awake Every Night

Byron, like thousands of other incarcerated individuals, lives in a constant state of hypervigilance. Prison is not a place of rest. It’s a battlefield.

The lights never go off. The noise never stops. The danger never sleeps. Here are just a few of the reasons he shared:

Constant noise: Metal doors opening and slamming shut at all hours.
Perpetual light: No true darkness to signal the body that it’s time to rest.
Violence and fear: Ongoing fights, stabbings, and even murders.
Banging and chaos: Inmates banging on their doors for help, attention, or medication.
Drug overdoses: People collapsing or dying just feet away—multiple times a day and night.

It's a sensory war zone. And war zones are meant to destroy.

The Cost of Sleep Deprivation

Byron explained that lack of sleep is not a side effect—it’s a strategy. It erodes the body. It breaks down the mind.

Mental sharpness fades.
Physical health deteriorates.
Irritability intensifies.
Emotional control vanishes.

Byron said to me:

“Even people who’ve been sent to a war zone may not actually see war—but they come home with PTSD. Prison is worse than a war zone. Because there is no break. You see everything. Every day. All the time.”

Some men lose eyes. Others lose limbs. Many lose their minds. Some lose their lives. And all of this is not accidental. Byron firmly believes:

“This system is designed to break people. It’s Quantanamo Bay, just with a different name.”

How This Impacts Loved Ones on the Outside

Another layer of torment emerges when incarcerated individuals try to connect with their loved ones—through visits, phone calls, or letters.

Sleep-deprived, emotionally raw, and mentally strained, their interactions can come across as distant, irritable, or even aggressive. But what’s truly happening is:

A human being is fighting for their sanity.
A parent or sibling is trying to mask their pain.
A soul is surviving the unspeakable, while trying to be present for someone they love.

Byron admitted that many inmates request psychiatric medication just to sleep. Not to “feel better.” Just to rest. Just to breathe in silence.

Prison is a Mental Hospital Disguised as Justice

Byron called it “The Walking Dead.”

And that image is chillingly accurate. The eyes of those around him are vacant. Shoulders are hunched from carrying too much grief. Conversations are often disjointed. Many are over-medicated. Some are hallucinating.

What was once a place of supposed “correction” has become a holding ground for broken spirits.

And yet, Byron said something that I cannot stop thinking about:

“It takes superhuman strength to survive this. The brothers and sisters behind these walls are doing the impossible—not just for themselves, but for each other. That level of endurance is phenomenal.”

We Must Bear Witness

This blog is not to shock you. It is to awaken you.

We must stop pretending that incarceration is simply the loss of freedom. It is the intentional stripping of human dignity, mental stability, and physical health. It is designed this way.

But my son is still standing. Still enduring. Still speaking.

And as long as he can speak, I will echo his truth.

No one should have to endure this. And we cannot change what we are unwilling to see.

If this moved you,

I invite you to share it. Let the truth travel farther than the lies. And never forget: Byron is one voice among thousands who endure sleepless nights and soul-crushing silence—while the world sleeps in ignorance.

🕊️ Ase and Amen.