My Story...

By Natalie Peters

WHAT IF THE PERSON YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE WAS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN BY A SINGLE ACT?


Natalie Peters is a well-educated and experienced health care professional working in the disability field in the town of Queensland, Australia.

Plagued by ongoing mental health conditions, her life is turned upside down by an uncharacteristic and traumatic crime.

Imprisoned for such offences, she experiences the intriguing hardness of prison life within the Queensland Correctional Service. What is prison life actually like and how will she survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781982297749

Book preview

Copyright © 2023 Natalie Peters.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the author except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com.au

AU TFN: 1 800 844 925 (Toll Free inside Australia)

AU Local: [phone] ([phone] from outside Australia)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use

of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical

problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The

intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help

you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use

any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional

right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New

International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International

Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9775-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9774-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023913706

Balboa Press rev. date:  07/27/2023

Some names and identifying details or places have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals. I have tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from my memories of them.

I would like to especially thank those angels in disguise in my life. To my now husband, who was my boyfriend at the time of the incident, family, friends and Church community, second to my Lord and Saviour, I know it was your prayers and unwavering love and support that got me through. I will never be able to convey the gratitude I feel. I am privileged to have you in my life.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

COURT

GOD PREPARED MY WAY THROUGH A POM

WATCHHOUSE

CELL BUDDIES

CREATURE COMFORTS

TRANSFER FROM HELL

WATCHHOUSE

I’M FREE

WELCOME TO THE MACHINE – Women’s Correctional Centre

SURVIVAL LESSONS OF UNIT 10

TRUTH OR LIES

MEDICAL EMERGENCIES

MEALS IN UNIT 10

GOING TO THE CHAPEL

PROCESSES AND TRICKS

UNIT 10 CULTURE

MELTDOWN

YOGA STYLE

FIRST BUY UP!

MY PEOPLE

TRANSFER AGAIN

CELL 5

BODYGUARD

TRANSFERS AND PROCESSING

BITTER IRONY

TRUTH OR LIES?

VISITORS

ONE SUNDAY IN MARCH

CONFLICT

THINGS THAT BUG ME – 12TH March 2019

SIMPLE PLEASURES

THIS IS GAOL

CODE BLUE

GAOL BIRDS – A Breed of Our Own

ACTION ON THE BLOCK

BITTER SWEET BUY-UP

WORK, WORK, WORK

SEROQUEL

WHAT A DAY!

LEST WE FORGET

BULLY

COWARD’S PUNCH

THE BULLY RIPPLE EFFECT

HEALING

MEDICAL MADNESS

SURVIVAL STRATEGIES

MY SAFE PLACE

REPENTENCE AND JUSTICE

SUPER SUPER

RELEASE

EPILOGUE - PLEASURE AND PAIN

APPENDIX

ENCOURAGEMENT GIVEN BY CHAPLAINS

PROLOGUE

In writing this testimony my primary goal was to have an account of my experience as a prisoner in Australia and to help me debrief on my release. As I have poured over my many scrawlings on prison provided notepads, it became clear to me that I had another agenda.

Help. If my meagre writings could help or provide encouragement to someone else, even just one person, then that would be great. I don’t know if that is the direction this will take but my heart feels right doing it.

As you read my words, I am not asking for sympathy. Plain and simple, I broke the law and deserved the consequences. I do have a couple of considerations I would like to challenge you with.

Being in gaol, wearing the same clothes, following the same routines and eating the same food, I learnt that there, in gaol, we were all equals. A murderer was not treated any different from a drug offender or thief. We had been judged (on the outside) but on the inside there was no judgement. We were all on the same playing field. The opinions of the outside world seemed mostly irrelevant. Even the Officers treated us equally and fairly.

Prison life opened my naïve eyes to the lives of many women who never had the same love, support, resources and opportunities that I did. I met some remarkable women in prison and am glad to have had that honour.

I do want to highlight however that my comments are not made as a defence. Every woman, including of myself, in the gaols I talk about:

1. Committed and was found guilty of a crime (s)

2. Legal retribution and punishment was justified.

And so, I ask that you consider:

1. Are you willing to be cautious and even reluctant to judge others?

2. Are you willing to show empathy and equality to people who have lost their way?

COURT

Date: 15.02.2019

I started my story as I received my Welcome Pack from Legal Aid the day prior containing a writing pad and pen.

My journey took a significant turn on Thursday 07/02/2019 in Queensland. I had quite thoroughly prepared my life in the preceding months for the possibility of immediate detainment into custody. Being an organised person and driven by a motivation to seek forgiveness, I had compacted my entire life into a well written eight-page document. This covered everything from who was power of attorney, where my two beautiful dogs would live, where my car would be housed and when and how ongoing bills would need to be paid.

Much of my support base were united in the belief I would not be gaoled. I however hedged a bet of 60/40, in favour of gaol. Of course, I hoped I was wrong.

The day prior to court I re-homed my dogs, and made final arrangements that I hoped I would be reversing over the next couple of days.

In the year between my committing the offences, on 27th March 2018, and my sentencing I experienced a sense of strange dissociation. I had fortunately been released on bail, which for several months was extended and re-extended. I was keen to be issued a court date so I could face up to things and start the slow return to normal life.

As the months passed, I carried a heavy sense of uncertainty and foreboding. I tried to get on with life, shopping, paying rent and trying to experience joy. My family and friends were ever supportive for which I was very blessed. It felt strange carrying on with daily life, experiencing relative freedom, knowing that it would probably be short lived.

On the day of my sentencing, I had about 10-12 friends come to court to support me in a Queensland Court. I was so overwhelmed. Not only was this the most traumatic day I had experienced in my life, but it was softened immensely with the realty of beautiful people who loved and supported me and most of all, shared a hope of pardon that I was struggling to believe in. I think the most touching memory of this day was whilst I was waiting at the front of the Courthouse. I was sucking on a cigarette, a nasty habit I had picked up whilst on parole. I observed an elderly man struggling to remove his walker from the back seat of his car. I approached to offer assistance and realised hang on….that’s Frisch! a lovely elderly Danish friend of mine. I hastened to help him and noticed his wife getting out of the driver’s side of the car. Madi, a wonderfully strong and intelligent woman ran a hectic and disjointed business providing in-flight meal packs for Qantas frights. She worked tirelessly every day, getting up before the rest of Queensland woke to have things ready for the first morning flight. Over the years of knowing this couple I had gained an insight into some of the physical challenges Frisch had with his mobility and daily function. An outing to Court would have been a significant effort and possibly pain inducing. I felt so loved and supported as I fought back tears of gratitude.

Once outside the courtroom, I paced nervously between my friends, each of them doing their best to offer encouragement, support and hope.

I had another blessing that morning. I had fairly recently reconnected with an old friend, having buried the hatchet on prior hurts. Five days prior to Court, I went on a motorbike ride with her, her partner and her father. I love motorbikes and now collected miniatures. I used to ride and loved these times. The biker blood in me was churning despite my current circumstances meaning I was bikeless. I borrowed an old 1983 Suzuki GR650 fondly named Shimra (meaning Keep Safe in Hebrew) from her and we went on an awesome ride around the surrounding region. I had a blast and despite my internal fears about my impending court appearance, managed not to drop it! Joining us was her father, Wayne, a rough Biker dude who rode a Hog, who ended up being one of the kindest people I have met. Being the least experienced rider, they were always mindful of how I was going and let me have the lead in our little convoy a few times. My friend’s father, Wayne turned up to court which was another unexpected, yet welcome surprise.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, we were called into the Court Room. A huge wave of heaviness and fear hit me like a smothering blanket. My friends were ushered to the rear right of the courtroom and I was escorted by a Police Officer to the left. Reality hit hard and fast. A wave of heaviness washed over me and an immense sense of foreboding. In a few steps, the short walk from outside the court room to the holding cell, my life stability sped from freedom to captivity. The officer escorting me was kind but the reality of his uniform reminded me of the gravity of my situation, awaiting sentencing, and minutes away from potentially being taken into custody.

I was escorted to the dock, a secured double perspex enclosure at the rear of the room, behind my legal team. There was a small slit in the front of the perspex and a microphone snaked through. I gingerly took a seat as my legs continued to shake and I feared falling. The police officer had posted himself outside my box, close by the door where he could keep a watchful eye on me. My Legal Team sat with their backs to me at the left end of a long bench. The prosecuting team sat at the far opposite end. My friends sat behind the Prosecution along with some hungry media yearning a result on the case that might make local headlines.

The Crown was a female who sat as depicted on television, on a raised platform at the front of the room. We all stood as she entered. It was an interesting phenomenon as I had no idea how the real court world worked and my impressions and conclusions were mostly directed by fictitious depictions through television and movies.

The whole hearing took about 40 minutes which was the most stressful and gruelling time I had ever experienced. As directed by my counsel, I was required to use the microphone twice. Firstly to say Guilty, your Honour and secondly, No, your Honour. I had no opportunity to say anything else. The process was very structured, with the Prosecuting team opening proceedings by presenting their arguments. My team, consisted of a Barrister and Solicitor, then presented their side. As I listened to the Prosecution, alarm bells started to ring with inconsistencies and inaccuracies, but I felt gagged. I waited for my team to counter certain alleged facts, however I was dumbfounded as this never happened. The intellectual debate I had envisioned would occur never happened.

The Crown did question both sides and repeated that my case was difficult with no legal precedent presented by either side. In addressing the court, the Crown stated there was a lack of information and evidence, making her conclusion difficult. The victims of the crime were not present which I hoped was a helpful decision on their part.

I was hot with anger by now, feeling abandoned by my team in failing to present certain key issues that I believed could have had a bearing on my sentencing. During the process where the Crown addressed the court, my chest felt extremely heavy with dread. I sobbed and shook and my anxiety was on red alert. I prayed. Many times in my life I had prayed, but this day, I prayed a lot. I fired pleas up to God in rapid succession.

At the end of the Crown’s address, I was directed to rise. The time had come. By now from listening to the Crown speak, I was certain I would be facing gaol time. The question now was, how much? I was shaking so much I felt like I would topple over in my low heels. As I was standing for a while, a few times I slipped them off. The cameras couldn’t see my feet, could they?

At this point in the proceedings, I felt dread. Mercifully, I don’t think I had ever experienced this feeling before. I felt like any hope left in me was sucked slowly and painfully out of me, leaving me feeling like an empty husk. My throat