You’re Better in Jail

Over the years, I have known many people who struggle deeply with their mental health. Sometimes the struggle is so all-encompassing it changed their ability to walk through even small parts of life that many of us consider “normal.” Take for example, my friend who I will call Melody. Melody has a HUGE personality, and she is not small herself, she is physically imposing, and often scary, because of the way she interacts with people and the struggle she has with poverty and addiction.

Melody has never been able to hold a job, and the way I’ve seen her, I can’t imagine her ever being able to do so. The first time I saw her she came to our Sunday evening Gathering with a few of her really rough looking friends. She was demanding that someone give her some money, and was not taking no for an answer. Some people were talking with her and trying to offer her food, or other kinds of help, she and her friends smelled quite strongly of solvents (indicating that they had been sniffing), and they were concerned that money would not be helpful to her at all.

I came into the situation because I heard her yelling at people. I sat down next to her and was overwhelmed by the smell of solvents, I asked her what was going on? She started yelling at me right away. I tried to calm her down, but she was not to be calmed down. Eventually she took a beer can that she was holding, and smashed it on her forehead, breaking the skin, and beginning to bleed. Melody started yelling things like, “IF I WAS WHITE YOU WOULD GIVE ME MONEY, YOU ARE ALL JUST A BUNCH OF RACISTS!” I started to think that maybe she would start to hurt people, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I actually didn’t have any money on me, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to give her any, so I quietly tried to get her to leave, but she was having nothing of it. When things got to a point where I was getting scared, all of the sudden a man, who I knew was homeless, pulled out about $1.50 in change, and gave it to her. In a moment, Melody and her group of friends walked out. All that for a $1.50!

It turned out not to be the last time we saw Melody, in fact she became a regular around the building during the week. Sometimes her behaviour wasn’t atrocious, but we were always on edge when she was around. And, it wouldn’t take much for her to lose it. There were many times when we were not comfortable, or flat out afraid. Especially when Melody had been sniffing solvents it could be terrible, and often she would have a rag soaked in them with her, and she would breathe deeply into that rag on a regular basis, it was in those times we knew there would be trouble. We tried to ask her not to bring the rag with her, and told her she had to leave if she had one, sometimes it worked, sometimes it worked her up.

One day, after I hadn’t seen her for a while, a woman phoned the church. She was bright and cheery, and very friendly. After we talked a while, I asked, “who is this?” And she replied, “you didn’t recognize my voice? It’s Melody!” I was so shocked, I couldn’t believe I was talking to the same person! She was friendly and polite, warm, asking how I was doing, and listening to my response. “Where are you calling from?” I asked.

She said, “I’m in jail.”

Oh…

Over the next couple years this became a bit of a regular occurrence, when she was out of jail, she was difficult to handle, when she was in jail, she was wonderful. She never seemed to do anything terrible enough to go for a long time, just enough to go in for a few weeks or months.

I guess sometimes I wished there was some sort of program for people like Melody. One where she wouldn’t have to commit a crime to get proper care. One where she could have no access to the chemicals that are destroying her mind, and seriously changing her behaviour. But, how do you do something like that? You can’t lock someone up for being rude and addicted, but it would change Melody’s life if she did not have access to her addiction. She could probably become a contributing member of society, helping with any number of things. Most programs I know of would eventually fail her, or she would sabotage it, there has got to be something though…why is jail the best thing for her?!

I have met quite a few people like Melody, and I have always wished there was a good solution to this issue. I don’t know of one, maybe there is, but I think this is something our society should figure out.

How can we help someone like Melody?