My addicted child went to jail today. It’s such a shame. He had just gotten his life back together since he got out of jail three months ago. He appeared to be doing well, despite a couple of slips. He had a full time job, a girlfriend, a place to live, and a car. Everything was looking good until his stupid addiction got him again. This time he is going to be gone for around seven months to a year. I am hoping a year in jail brings him home sober and committed to recovery! The first time he was in jail, I visited him, put money into his account, and paid the phone bills so he could call me. The second time he was in jail I still visited him and paid for the phone calls, but I put no money into his account. This time, he will be lucky if I visit him at Christmas! It is hard for me to do that and not see or talk to him, but I think he needs it! He needs to figure this out on his own.
I have been there. My son has gone to jail a few times himself. Fortunately, he was never there more than 110 days andiIt was always in a county lock-up so the visits were local. I gave him very little money and limited how much money I would put into a phone fund.
Having a loved one in jail, especially for addiction related actions, is difficult. I was so angry at the stupidity of it all. I barely understand the actions of the addiction, so I become even more confounded when someone does something criminal related to their addiction. It seems and feels so avoidable. Then again, we are talking about addiction related behaviors, which are always impossible to explain or understand. Just the same, doing something that can and does land one in jail really, really antagonizes me.
The last time Brandon ended up in jail, I had the same thoughts and feelings this parent did. I wasn’t going to visit him no matter what. I hated going there. I hated the process and the experience. I resented the inconvenience and the reasons I was going there in the first place. If he is going to do something stupid and irresponsible enough to end up in jail, let him sit there and figure it out. I am not going.
Then I had a friend share an interesting perspective with me…
“You are not visiting your son for you, you are visiting him for him. You are not going there to show your support or approval for what he has done to end up in jail, you are going there to demonstrate and remind him that you love him no matter what.“
With that, my thinking completely shifted. Visiting him was letting him know that, know matter what, I love him. The first time I visited him in jail after that realization, the shock and surprise on his face said it all. He was convinced his dad wasn’t going to visit him. When I told him that I was here because I loved him and that I wanted to make sure he never forgot it, the rest of our conversation was awesome. I have no expectations that this visit will change the path to his recovery, for he has to define and find that for himself. However, the more my child knows the love that his parents have for him, the harder it is for him to embrace the hopelessness and despair of his situation. It is harder to give up on yourself when you know that there are people out there who love you and have not given up on your.
A child battling addiction makes a lot of stupid, painful mistakes. We don’t have to approve, enable, or support them. However, there is nothing more powerful than loving them and letting them know how strong and unconditional that love is - including visiting them in jail to demonstrate it. Going to visit a loved one is not easy, fun, convenient or enjoyable; but, it is probably, possibly the powerful way to demonstrate your love for them. A child dealing with addiction needs to know that more than anything!
D. J. says
I’ve been there too-too many times. At first I visited, the first few times. But then I couldn’t anymore. And yes, it was for me. I couldn’t do it. And I knew from experience that my visiting him didn’t really help him. I’m sure it made him feel less lonely. I’m sure he looked forward to it. I sure it made him sad that he had no visitors when I stopped coming. But I still couldn’t do it. Instead we wrote letters to each other, and I put money on his books for phone calls, and money for the commissary (I’m not sure I will keep doing that if he goes back in again!). The thing is, he knows I love him and always will, and I help him as much as I can, but I won’t put myself through the pain of seeing him in jail anymore, and I think he understands that too. I suppose if we went back for a really long time, I’d make the trip, but I would hate it and resent it, and I’m not sure how much it would help under those circumstances. But I might do it just to see his face, to be with him. I’d do it for me, if I did it, because I needed to see him. Not to show him I love him. He knows that already. He knows I always will.
This isn’t to say what other parents should or should not do. Just one mom’s perspective. My heart goes out to all whose addicted loved one end up there. Jail is not where they should be. Although I’ve been thankful more than once to find out he was in jail and off the streets, and hopefully safer because of it.
Every parental situation is different. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and perspectives on this topic. It is a bit of twisted irony that we find peace when our children are in jail when I can’t think of any place I would rather not be.
Margie Fleitman says
I completely agree. You are visiting them for them, not for you. We visit them to keep hope alive, to let them know that we have not given up on them, too, like so many others in their life. I can relate to this article but I have another perspective to share, although I know mine is not unique, for there are so many others in my shoes.
My son was arrested at age 21 and then “celebrated” his 22nd birthday while still incarcerated. In total, he spent the last 13 months of his life in a local jail. I visited him weekly, I did put money on his account, and did pay for him to be able to call us, too. The only time I missed a visit was when I was once sick and couldn’t get myself there to the jail. His dad often made excuses so would only visit him off and on. I get it, it was a difficult place to see your child in. My son would ask me when his dad was coming to visit. I knew my son was hurt by his infrequent visits. But I was solid as a rock, never wavering, wanting him to see that I still loved him and was not ashamed of him. In fact, after several years of not hearing it, he began to tell me he loved me while behind those bars. I also always let him know that I loved him, too. I would say it during our visits, phone conversations, and written letters, too. I know my son knew it, and also felt it. What I didn’t have was a crystal ball to know that our time together would one day be precious and treasured moments once shared. My son was preparing to enter his very first rehab program once released. He was released on a Monday and the treatment center that was to assess him, put him off till Thursday of that same week. They sent him away to wait for a bed to become available. That same night he decided to use heroin, one last time, before entering the program. He did not take into account that he was clean and it resulted in a fatal decision. He overdosed the following morning and I found my son, too late.
So when I say that my perspective is different, it is because I am so happy that I made the decision to visit, write, accept his calls, and support him in any way I could. Time spent in any way with my son was a gift, although I did not understand this as I obviously do now. He was sober, coherent, respectful, kind, sweet, gentle and caring towards me and his family. He spoke about the past, the future, and even about how he wanted me to take better care and do more things for myself. He was showing me the compassionate side, the side that I always knew was still there. Little did I know that I would lose him only 4 days after his release, but now I see that my visiting him was not only for him, but it was just as much for me. And I don’t regret a single minute of it. All the best to you with your son, Dave. Live for today, because we never know if that is all that we are ever going to get.
K Arch says
When my son was little, around five (or so), if an ambulance passed by I would kissed my cross, which hangs in my car, and say a silent prayer for safety. One day my son asked me, “Why do you do that Mommy” and I replied “I like to send a silent prayer, that the person in need of an ambulance, be safe”. He looked at me and said “Well, since we don’t know where the ambulance is going, why not pray that a Mommy is having a baby and needs to get to the hospital to keep her baby safe”.
I smiled at him, and from that day forward, I thought, how nice, a new child is born unto this world. But today, or shall I say for the past four and half years – the sound of an ambulance sends chills up my spine – as I have had to call 911 for my own child, and each time, I had no idea if he would be okay, if he would survive. I have heard far too many stories of loss over the past few years, and the sound of an ambulance stops me in my tracks, and all I can say is, “Please Lord, let it not be for my son”.
When my son was little, around 10 (or so), I saw a child with purple hair, and I shook my head and said “that looks absolutely ridiculous”… and my son, in all his infinite wisdom said “Yes, but Mama, what a great shade of purple he got… and you know what, he looks happy with purple hair”. So I smiled at my son, and said “Please Lord, always keep him this wise and this safe”…
When my son was young, around 19 (or so), I saw a look on his face that I had never seen before… my son looked lost, he seemed confused, and full of fear, and so I asked “What’s wrong baby, you look so sad today”, and he replied “I think I’m broken Mama, and I don’t know how to fix it”. That was the start of addiction entering our lives… and so I looked up and said “Please Lord, let me have my son back”. And I cried …
Today my son is 25 and the struggles of addiction has taken from him … his smile, his wisdom, and his soul… and what it has given in return, is a broken child longing to be rescued. A child, who for today is once again clean, is still broken in so many ways.
Addiction is a disease that has many faces and many obstacles; addiction has far too much stigma associated with it. Today, addiction, while classified as a “disease” is still considered by many in our society, to be a matter of choice; addiction is considered a disease of those who lack morals; A disease that affects the over privileged or someone whose family lacks values.
Incarceration is not the answer, and yet we are tossing our young adult children into jail/prison faster we can explain the disease that took them from our arms. Every parent with a child suffering the dreaded (and often deadly) disease of addiction must to face the possibility, of visiting their child from behind a glass window.. a visit that includes a conversation on a telephone, where the DNA of thousands of other loved ones is now embedded. A decision to visit your child the first time, the second time or the tenth time they are incarcerated – is as personal a decision as any parent will make; still society tries to dictate that decision by adding the stigma “your child is a criminal and therefore deserves to be incarcerated”.
Today I hate so many things that I use to love… but most of all, I hate the word “ADDICTION” … so please dear Lord, take that word back, and replace it with “HOPE”… Take back to word “STIGMA” and replace it will “ACCEPTANCE’… and please take back the word “CHOICE” and replace it with ???? any word that might represent my desire to show society, my child is still worth fighting for …
Thanks for your thoughts, comments and insights. I love the vocabulary adjustments - hope instead of addiction and acceptance replacing stigma. The choice to use is not to be confused with the outcome of the choice. It is a disease. There is no word to replace the choices our children have made and continue to make afterward. However, love, tolerance, and understanding are required to truly grasp the impact of addiction on those that struggle and their families who suffer.
Kathleen Arch says
When my son was little, around five (or so), if an ambulance passed by I would kissed my cross, which hangs in my car, and say a silent prayer for safety. One day my son asked me, “Why do you do that Mommy” and I replied “I like to send a silent prayer, that the person in need of an ambulance, be safe”. He looked at me and said “Well, since we don’t know where the ambulance is going, why not pray that a Mommy is having a baby and needs to get to the hospital to keep her baby safe”.
I smiled at him, and from that day forward, I thought, how nice, a new child is born unto this world. But today, or shall I say for the past four and half years – the sound of an ambulance sends chills up my spine – as I have had to call 911 for my own child, and each time, I had no idea if he would be okay, if he would survive. I have heard far too many stories of loss over the past few years, and the sound of an ambulance stops me in my tracks, and all I can say is, “Please Lord, let it not be for my son”.
When my son was little, around 10 (or so), I saw a child with purple hair, and I shook my head and said “that looks absolutely ridiculous”… and my son, in all his infinite wisdom said “Yes, but Mama, what a great shade of purple he got… and you know what, he looks happy with purple hair”. So I smiled at my son, and said “Please Lord, always keep him this wise and this safe”…
When my son was young, around 19 (or so), I saw a look on his face that I had never seen before… my son looked lost, he seemed confused, and full of fear, and so I asked “What’s wrong baby, you look so sad today”, and he replied “I think I’m broken Mama, and I don’t know how to fix it”. That was the start of addiction entering our lives… and so I looked up and said “Please Lord, let me have my son back”. And I cried …
Today my son is 25 and the struggles of addiction has taken from him … his smile, his wisdom, and his soul… and what it has given in return, is a broken child longing to be rescued. A child, who for today is once again clean, is still broken in so many ways.
Addiction is a disease that has many faces and many obstacles; addiction has far too much stigma associated with it. Today, addiction, while classified as a “disease” is still considered by many in our society, to be a matter of choice; addiction is considered a disease of those who lack morals; A disease that affects the over privileged or someone whose family lacks values.
Incarceration is not the answer, and yet we are tossing our young adult children into jail/prison faster we can explain the disease that took them from our arms. Every parent with a child suffering the dreaded (and often deadly) disease of addiction must to face the possibility, of visiting their child from behind a glass window.. a visit that includes a conversation on a telephone, where the DNA of thousands of other loved ones is now embedded. A decision to visit your child the first time, the second time or the tenth time they are incarcerated – is as personal a decision as any parent will make; still society tries to dictate that decision by adding the stigma “your child is a criminal and therefore deserves to be incarcerated”.
Today I hate so many things that I use to love… but most of all, I hate the word “ADDICTION” … so please dear Lord, take that word back, and replace it with “HOPE”… Take back to word “STIGMA” and replace it will “ACCEPTANCE’… and please take back the word “CHOICE” and replace it with ???? any word that might represent my desire to show society, my child is still worth fighting for …
it was never of question of whether I would go. Of course I went. It was a time when you can visit and they make sense. You can have great meaningful conversations with someone who is listening and sharing, not knodding off and thinking how they can suck the life out of me to get more money for drugs. I could finally go on vacation in peace. I knew where she was, that she was alive, had a bed and was safe and alive. I will say prison was better than jail. The visiting room was clean and you can sit at a table with no chains or handcuffs. You never know when it will be an addicts last day on earth and I wanted to spend as much time with my daughter as possible even if it meant I had to go to prison to do it. No matter how bad it got I always wanted the last words she heard from me to be I love you no matter what. She has been clean 6 years and if I had it to do all over again, I would definitely visit.
Maria z says
I am so grateful for all of your postings. Until now, have been not able to post. Too emotional. My son is 26 and has been struggling with addiction really since high school. Went into military after graduation, and began the heavy stuff , meth amphetamine. Was dishonorably discharged,and spent about 8 months in jail. We brought him home,helped him get a decent job, he had a wonderful girlfriend.he relapsed.2 times. He went to a rehab clinic both times each for a month. He was stealing to sustain heroin.after the last rehab, we realized that coming back home was not good for us or him, so he went to teen challenge. By the way this is a really good program for people who really want to stay clean.he left after 3 months, said he wanted to go on with his life.came back home,and shortly after, he relapsed again.i offered to pay for him to see a counselor, he said he did,but he never did make the appointment. We saw his picture on crime stoppers. He robbed a local bank.it was such a hard decision, that my husband and I had to make to turn him in.at the moment, he has been in jail for almost 5 months, awaiting his trial.in all likelihood , we will have to testify against him in court.he blames me in particular. He does not understand how I can testify and let him go to prison for many years.the mother part of me, does not want to believe that the hooded, sunglasses, gun holding young man in the bank picture, is my son. But it is for certain him. Of all his personal belongings retrieved, those are the only items missing. And those were the items the police were looking for, but never found.i hate the thought of prison for addicts, but what else are we to do?at least in prison,they are fed, off drugs and not harming innocent people.the war on drugs is not working. Monies for this fund need to be earmarked for medical studies,maybe for an inoculation of some type,to prevent our kids from getting high on drugs.
Maria, thank you for sharing your story. I understand how difficult this is for you. I am pretty confident you will do what you know you need to do and only you know what that is. Regardless of where your son’s addiction takes him, I am hoping that you and your husband focus on taking care of yourself and find strength in living your life. Unfortunately, addiction has taken control of your son’s situation and there is not much you can do for him until he finds that path for himself. If prison ends up being that path, here’s hoping that he finds what he needs even if it is not a great option. Please make sure we keep talking. Peace.
BRRK says
Maria,
I don’t have much to offer, but I do understand what you are going through. We never wish for our children to go to jail. But hear me now…..he is controlled by the monster we call addiction. Your son is behind the sunglasses, deep within. He is likely far weaker than this monster. In jail, hopefully he will be safe. While he is in jail, there will be time and opportunities for you to help him come out of there a new man. It may take time for him to come around, but don’t give up. Beat that monster.
My 29 year old beautiful daughter is gone. She battled depression and addiction for years. I turned my back for my own salvation. That monster was killing me too, slowly. So I turned my back and pretended this situation didn’t exist.
She called me one morning, 4 months ago, and said she couldn’t fight the fight another day. She had nothing/nobody.
She is ashes in a bag now. She is free.
But she suffered, alone. And now I live with the “what ifs”
I will never be truly happy again. Losing a child does that.
Don’t enable him, but support him, and stay mentally healthy knowing you are doing your best.
I wish you the best.