Aaron Hernandez after hanging himself with a bedsheet. He was 27 years old and serving a life sentence for the murder of Odin Lloyd. Four years earlier, Hernandez was a member of the and had recently signed a $40 million contract extension. In the weeks since his death, details about his time behind bars reveals a life that is miles away from the one he previously knew. writes of an angry and frustrated man unaccustomed to being told what to do and when to do it all while spending most of his days in a 7-by-10-foot cell. "His aggre sive tone has become an exce sive habit when he does not receive what he wants, when he wants it, Brandon Tanev Jersey " one Bristol County guard wrote in a report. "He is constantly kicking his cell door and screaming at the top of his lungs utilizing profanity at times when he wants something, regardle s of how miniscule it is. It is not uncommon for Hernandez to kick his cell door constantly until an officer approaches his cell merely to ask the officer Winnipeg Jets Jersey for the current time." Hernandez was often involved in fights with other inmates; in Bristol County Jail he was charged with 21 disciplinary offenses stemming from 12 separate incidents during his 22 months there. Then, at the Souza-Baranowski prison, 78 more disciplinary offenses -- including 12 major incidents -- over a two-year span. "Hernandez struck name redacted with a closed fist to the face and both men engage d in a physical altercation," according to a Souza-Baranowski incident report. "The combatants ignored several direct orders to cease their actions and chemical agent was utilized to separate the inmates." For a glimpse into just how much Hernandez's life had changed, Wetzel recounts a story from Nov. 20, 2013. Hernandez was on on Disciplinary Detention Status at the time in the Bristol County Jail, where he was housed while awaiting trial, which also meant he couldn't receive commi sary. But Michael Hutchinson Jersey a mistake was made, two dozen honey buns were delivered to his cell, and Hernandez realizing what had happened, got to work on finishing off every last honey bun before the officers caught on. Wetzel writes: "He ate one honey bun and then another. And another. And another. Each was individually wrapped, so the trash began to pile up, as Hernandez plowed through his order. He alternated sleep with more and more of the pastries. This was Man vs. Food, Bristol County House of Corrections Edition." With four honey buns remaining, the officers realized the error and confiscated them. "I'm a smart dude," Hernandez told an officer according Mark Scheifele Jersey to a jail incident report. "I knew you'd be coming for this stuff that's why I ate as much food as I could." Hernandez then asked if he could have those final four honey buns. His request was denied. In another incident, Hernandez ate a letter he wrote in response to guards seizing his correspondence. He once physically tore up a letter in front of guards and then ate it so they couldn't keep it. "I'll eat the expletive and then you don't get expletive ," Hernandez shouted according to an incident report.Three-and-a-half years Nikolaj Ehlers Jersey later, Hernandez killed himself and Wetzel tries to make sense of it all. His life in prison was anything but normal . There was no respect there, not from other inmates, not from guards, not from the system. Hard time didn't appear to harden him. His requests for more food, a cellmate he liked or anything else was always summarily dismi sed. He was a nobody. With the po sibility of winning an appeal for a new trial on the Lloyd murder unlikely, and subsequently earning an acquittal even le s likely, Hernandez's challenging and dispiriting reality must have set in.