Rolling Stone

There is a feature article about the circumstances that led to my arrest in the current issue of Rolling Stone Magazine.  The article focuses on the elusive, malicious figure who was at the helm of the entire seedy, smelly operation.  On the cover, it’s referred to as “The Pot Princess of Beverly Hills.” (Inside, it is dubbed “The Gangster Princess of Beverly Hills.”)

Being on house arrest, I was (of course) at home when the magazine hit the newsstands.  At least I’m not in prison – I am the only person in the case who is not in prison right now.  A friend I’ve known since childhood called me in the morning to tell me that she was coming to my apartment with Starbucks coffee and an issue of the new Rolling Stone.

“Cady was an aspiring actress fresh from the small town of Bremerton, Washington — a pretty, friendly and goofy oversharer.” -Rolling Stone Magazine (written by Sabrina Ruben Erdely)

I just re-read the article from front to back.  I think that the journalist, Sabrina Ruben Erdely, did a fantastic job.  The real-life story is so convoluted, and the people who lived within it did so under a veil of such secrecy and deception, that I’m sure it was not an easy puzzle for an outsider to make sense of.  Even now, I still look back and find so many elements to be incredible– and I existed in the eye of that storm for years.

It’s over now.

Yes, I have an ankle bracelet on for a year, and yes, I spent thirty days in federal prison—but, all of this was, ultimately, my exit route to safety.  I see that now.  Being arrested extricated me from something that I didn’t know how to escape from, and that could have easily ended my life, eventually.   It’s kind of amazing to think that on June 14, 2010, when I was confronted with an Mp5 sub-machine gun that was aimed at my face, that I was on my way to safety.

I feel like a piece of me died during that whole, horrific experience.  I remember, while in the throes of it, I had constant nightmares about being chased down by either Cartel members or federal officers with guns.  I was afraid to go to sleep some nights.  I suppose that one of those nightmarish scenarios may have been imminent, and the one that became a reality may have been something along the lines of Divine Intervention for me.

Maybe parts of us are meant to break off and die, at certain points in our lives.  I think now that perhaps the piece of me that I feel I lost in that fire was the part that made me susceptible to ever allowing myself to become a part of it in the first place.  If that’s true, then I say good riddance.  Life goes on.  It must.  If I let myself wallow in the heartache of the past, then I won’t be able to experience the joy that can be waiting for me in the future.

“Keep your face to the sun, and you will never see the shadows.”  -Helen Keller

87 days to go.

 

First Blog

I was released from federal prison on November 9th, 2011.  I was incarcerated at Victorville Federal Prison Camp for women in Adelanto, CA, in the desert, for a term of 30 days.  Today is the 12th day of my “freedom”.  I sit in my single apartment, in Los Angeles, alone.  I have a GPS location device on my left ankle. It’s bigger than I thought it would be.  It reminds me of a pair of binoculars, strapped to my ankle with a two-inch thick plastic band.  I am on house arrest.

On August 26th, 2011, I was sentenced by a federal judge in Columbus, OH to serve 30 days in prison, 365 days of home confinement, and two years of probation, following a guilty plea to conspiracy and possession of over 220 pounds of marijuana with intent to distribute.

I will be on the electronic monitoring program until November 14th, 2012.  One year.  Today will mark the completion of my first week of home confinement.  This is my first blog, on any site, ever.  I have never felt any inclination to blog prior to now, or even to post regular updates on Facebook, Twitter, or otherwise.  However, given my recent turn of circumstance, I have decided to document my experience via this website and blog.  This is a new reality for me, and I wonder if sharing my experience may help to alleviate some feeling of detachment or isolation from the “outside” world that could occur during my confinement here.  Then again, it could be worse; I did just come back to LA from being an inmate in federal prison.  I am free, yet confined.  A compromised freedom.

Being here is better than being caged in a prison, but, such as in life, with every change, we trade one set of complications for another.  With this blog I intend to share some details of my current set of complications.

I know that many thousands of people have been in this program, and live in it today.  I have never known anyone who has been in this situation or is in it now, but I would love to connect with others in similar circumstances in a hopefully shared interest to make the best of an unfortunate turn of events, spun out by unfortunate decisions.  Here we go.  More soon…

358 days to go.