It was a rough week.
Jay fell to his death from his sixth story apartment building. On probation and not totally compliant with his medication, his turbulent life ended before a program could be found that could help him. He had "flunked out" of several.
Larry, in a manic phase, was in solitary confinement 23 hours a day at Fishkill prison. He drew three weeks punishment for acting out. Agitated, he was filling his hours constantly cleaning thesmall cubicle that confined him. He drew another two weeks for an infraction while in the "box." It would have been longer, but the mental health team intervened.
Carter was informed that the Connecticut Supreme Court upheld the verdict that sent him to prison for 20 years. Arrested at 19, he is yet another example of a mentally ill person not deemed insane by the stringent standards of the law which are all too often out of sync with advances in psychiatry and medicine. Carter's history of schizoaffective disorders and hospitalizations was a major part of his defense at his trial five years ago, but for naught.
These stories were related by friends and family at NAMI-NYC Metro's criminal justice support group at its May meeting. The group was started several years ago to address not only severe psychiatric problems of loved ones, but complications that result when a mentally ill person gets in trouble with the law. It meets the fourth Thursday of every month at the NAMI-NYC Metro offices and some months, every two weeks at a member's home.
It is a diverse group of family and friends who love their sons or daughters, brothers or sisters too much to abandon them to a system which tends to produce a never-ending cycle of recidivism when mental illness results in behavior that does not conform to the law. Newcomers get pointers on where to seek legal help and perspectives from those who've been dealing with their loved one's mental illness and the criminal justice system for decades. Reeling from the recent arrest of a family member, new members put aside their bewilderment long enough to tell what led to the incident that got their loved one arrested.
The group tries to sort it out. What are the options? How can they get help? What are the resources they can call on? There aren't always good answers, but there is comfort in sharing the tragi-complexity that mental illness and the criminal justice entail.
At a typical meeting a consumer regular updated the group on her recovery from a recent downward turn. She had been doing well several years since being released from prison (homeless and living in shelters at first, then with help, to an apartment). Manic episodes landed her in prison, and she lost her family and apartment. She was so manic at the time, she remembers with chagrin, she thought jail was just a nice change of scenery. Having a record caused her to lose benefits and continues to complicate her efforts to restore life to a semblance of what it was before.
A family came hoping to learn how to prevent their son and brother from getting arrested. He was severely depressed and threatening suicide if anyone knocked at his door. The Harrises went away considering using the newly passed Kendra's law, which provides for forced outpatient treatment for anyone deemed dangerous and refusing treatment. More stories illustrate other issues confronted. Patrick's brother, Ken—in prison twice and facing the threat of "three strikes you're out" life sentencing—was also on a slide. He had been doing well in a program, living independently and working. When his employer found out he had a record, he was fired. This brought on a relapse. Ken checked himself into a hospital this week.
Ira's nephew was in Rikers, the result of an assault at the residency program where he had been living. He was not getting his regular medication. Phone numbers of prison staff who have been helpful in the past were shared.
But it wasn't all bad news. Four women regulars with several decades each experience because sons have been in Rikers numerous times report having finally found workable programs for their sons. Those still searching took note of of the programs they mentioned.
This group is painfully aware of the failure of our mental health, social and legal systems to provide effective and compassionate alternatives to criminal incarceration. Many of their loved ones are testimony to the "transinstitutionalization" phenomenon exemplified by New York's prison system increasing from 19,000 to 72,000 since the mid-'50s. The number of beds available in mental institutions in New York state nosedived from 93,000 to about 6,000 in the same time period. Ill-equipped to deal with the mentally ill, jails are set up to maintain control of prisoners rather than to treat them.
If anything, the prison system exacerbates mental illness. Since 460,000 people return to society every year from prisons, it behooves our society to provide treatment to the mentally ill there. The criminal justice support group is comprised of people who refuse to give up trying.Other articles: A Beautiful Mind review | study abroad | personal description
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