It is… Ironic that my experience in solitary confinement… Was a positive one. Do not get me wrong, I had wholly forgotten it until an artist was talking about a commission he was doing and he showed the floor plans of the cells for the solitary block, and it all came rushing back.

But in my case, I didn’t find out for three decades that I have social anxiety, CPTSD, etc., and that the reason I enjoyed solitary was no people around. And anyone, I mean anyone wanting to get near me, threaten me, had to go through a mechanically powered steel door. I ironically felt safe.

The guards were not happy when I was lead out and they asked, “bet that taught you a lesson, boy.” and I asked to go back in >_>

But… Then six years ago twenty years of repressed memories of abuse, violence, attempts to kill me, all exploded up out of my unconscious mind, and… I slowly learned why solitary, being stared at constantly, standing, not allowed to sit except designated sleep times, in a 10x12'ish steel cell… Felt safe.

But for anyone NOT having my luggage and feeling safe under such conditions… My whole-hearted condolences >_>