A birthday behind bars

Today is my brother Jared’s 33rd birthday. 

For the past 12 days, he’s been in a Norfolk City Jail awaiting arrangements to be moved to the mental health unit. That’s because Jared has schizophrenia, and 12 days ago, he had a mental health episode that resulted in the assault of a family member. 

Sadly, this is a familiar situation for our family. That’s not to say that Jared is consistently violent; he typically displays many of the common symptoms of schizophrenia (delusions, disorganized behavior). But about every 12-18 months, Jared experiences severe mental health episodes that result in him needing to be detained by police, both for the safety of himself and others. 

Jared has a history of these episodes. And while this isn’t his first time being arrested or charged, it is the longest he’s been held in general population, and certainly the longest he’s been held without receiving medication. Despite my mom’s numerous calls and pleas to his public defender, there doesn’t seem to be any sense of urgency to get him in the position where he can begin to receive treatment. 

I often struggle with sharing my brother’s story. I worry I am violating his privacy in some way. But if I’m being honest, my brother has no way to share his own story or to advocate for himself. Despite the struggles, emotional pain, and mental and physical labor it takes to care for him, my family has continued to support him over the past decade as he spirals deeper into the psychological turmoil of this ruthless illness. At times, I get frustrated with the way my family has handled things over the years. I wonder if we didn’t do enough early in his illness, despite knowing that we didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Or that perhaps we enabled him during his years of substance use disorder, a common co-occurring condition. I also worry that their fears and anxieties get in the way of them living their own lives. 

But not everyone has the means or emotional capacity to care for someone in such a state. I know that without them, he would be on the street like so many others who live with mental illness.

I think about these people often. Living in Philadelphia, it’s not uncommon for me to come face-to-face with them on the streets of Center City. They’re the ones you see lying on the vents of our underground rail system to stay warm in the winter, or pacing the streets, chattering to themselves and shouting the occasional obscenity. The people we cross the street to avoid. 

Seeing the way people with mental illness are treated by society breaks my heart, but it also fires me up. After Jared’s most recent arrest, the deputy told my mom that about 50% of calls in Norfolk are mental health-related. It’s impossible not to think of all the other people going through the same events, but without the support of loved ones and no one to properly advocate for them. 

I don’t know what long-term care will look like for my brother. He cannot take care of himself when unmedicated, that’s for sure. And when he is medicated, it’s hard for him to stay on track for long, especially without the constant support of family and social workers. Long-term care facilities for people with his type of mental illness are typically private and don’t accept insurance like Medicaid. Most days, it feels impossible to imagine what the future looks like. 

I share all of this today — his 33rd birthday — because I’m heartbroken and frustrated.

The goal is to get Jared moved to a mental health facility while he awaits his court date early next year. Although having him locked away isn’t where we want to see him, it’s usually the only way to ensure his safety and the safety of others. It’s also one of the only ways to get him to adhere to taking medication.

There’s so much more to tell with this story, a lot of which I plan to share on my blog moving forward. My hope with this blog is to discuss mental illness in America and what it looks like to seek — and hopefully, receive — treatment and support. Although I’m not an expert and have plenty of questions of my own, my goal is to be a voice for the voiceless and to advocate for the people and families affected by mental illness. 

If you’re interested in educating yourself on the topic and becoming an advocate for those who are often unable to help themselves, I hope you’ll follow along.