Families of Prisoners Support Group
This community is dedicated to families that have been disrupted by prison. Having a loved one incarcerated or having been incarcerated comes with its own unique challenges that require support and understanding. Join the group to find others who know what you're going through, and to seek advice or share your experience.
I'm not even sure how to start...
First of all, thank you. For anyone who reads this, thank you for lending your eyes to my story. I'm lost and I feel so helpless. I guess maybe I should just get it all out.
This morning I received a notification on Facebook that a friend of my brother's tagged me in a post. I didn't think much of it and finished up my shopping. I remembered as I got in the car and checked my page. It was a link from a local news outlet, with a big mugshot in the middle. I stared, not knowing how to make sense of it. I just stared and stared. And then I shifted to look at the text. "Murder" jumped off the page. My stomach lurched and tied into a sickening knot. Suddenly I wasn't really seeing anything. My vision blurred and I stared down at my phone.
My mouth dropped open and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I silently sobbed and the tears gushed. My silent gaping turned into ugly, gnarled, wracking sobs.
My fiance, who was driving, asked me, "What's wrong? Honey, what's going on?" I buried the phone to my chest and gasped for air. I couldn't talk. I just sobbed.
"My- my- my- No!!" Was what I finally managed. I sobbed some more. "My brother! No, no, no, no..." I couldn't stop saying 'no'. I thought if I held the phone tight enough to my chest or said No loudly enough, I might be able to make it disappear. Somehow I could scoop my baby brother up from this gaping, ugly, black-hole that he'd launched himself into.
I raised him, my little brother. He is 7 years younger than I am. I remember the day he came home from the hospital. He looked like a cranky little old man, with giant ears that poked straight out. His fingers were impossibly small and I fell asleep holding his hand that day. I changed the diapers. I fed him. I did everything. Our mother was a drug addict loser who was more worried about her next fix than about any of the 3 precious babies she brought into the world. I did my best, but there were so many things I couldn't shield him from.
He grew into an awkward and somewhat anxious kid. He found that he had a talent for art and programming but struggled in school. When you're surrounded by a group of drug-addled alcoholics, it's hard to find fertile ground to nourish your brain. He has always had the most gentle, sweet heart. He worried, overly, that he would affect someone in a negative way. As a child, if he felt that he'd hurt your feelings, he'd burst into tears.
He was a sweet, lost, somewhat sad, talented, misunderstood, wanting-to-be-loved kid.
I got a message from him about a month or so ago on Facebook, telling me that he thought he was going to die. He said he was having a panic attack. I called him right away. I talked to him and calmed him down. I asked him what was going on. He shamefully admitted that he'd been hearing voices. I've dealt with alot of mental illness. I'm recovering from mental illness and mentor others who suffer with it. I've dealt with a few people who are diagnosed with schizophrenia and recognized what he was talking about right away.
I told him to calm down. I told him that it sounded like schizophrenia but that that didn't mean anything horrible. I told him to get help from a therapist, giving him the suicide prevention line as a start point. I also gave him a few articles on people who are successfully treating and living with the disorder. He sounded pretty good when we got off the phone.
We talked a couple times after that, about art he was trying to create. He wanted to build himself an online business around art. I gave him some advice but we didn't talk much over the coming weeks.
And then today, there on my phone, was his picture and the word "Murder". I cried until there were no more tears. (Although the flow seems to be renewing.) I got up the courage to open the article. Apparently he was driving his car. Pulled off the side of the road to smoke a joint when he saw a man walking along the side of the road with a gas can. He said that the voices in his head told him that this guy was no good. That he was going to do something bad and that he needed to kill him to stop him. My brother then stomped on the gas and hit the guy. The man died at the scene.
My brother fled his car and took off running. I don't know if the chase was instanteous or not but the police went after him at some point and ended up catching him. He was arrested without issues. He had an arraignment and has a hearing in a couple weeks.
I feel so lost. So hollow. So dazed.
I don't know...
Does anyone know how this feels? Help, please.
You've always been close to him and he's definitely going to need you know more than ever! It's good you have a fiance to lean on because you're going to need him now more than ever! Don't worry about crying too much, it's okay.
Maybe before the hearing or sometime after you can let his public defender know he has schizophrenia and get his medical records if he has them. That's not going to stop him from spending time of course but maybe he can finally get some help. Our friend Rew who's on this board can tell you more about this process.
Try to stay sane because something like this it's very easy to go insane. Sending big big hugs!
Iam really sorry that you fohnd out about it this way. Ok if you can find out who is defending him and get in touch with them.....it may help in finding out where he is and then the information on the place his in. In the mean time sit down and write to him he needs to know your still there for him and still care for him.
Had or has he been diagnosed with a mental health issue? For his sake i hope he has and its in writing yes like GB said it wont stop him from doing time but it may help him in getting any meds he needs in there.
The crying and stufff and what your feeling right now ids unfortunately normal it takes time for things to get to the point where its a new normal i so hate saying that but its the way it is. I will tell its not easy to support someone doing time.....it can be hard work.
Have you talked to your man about whats going on?? I hope his supportive of you.
Big hugs
He was sentenced to 30 years in prison. He is 61 years old so he will most likely die in prison. I send money to him every month so my Mom wouldn't be burdened with this. He calls and writes often. There are some days that I don't answer the phone. I am mad at him but I can't just desert him. He has no one else to take care of him.
On top of this,my 19 year old son is in jail. He is waiting to be transferred to a prison treatment center. He became addicted to the same drug,Meth. My Mom is so strong. She has basically lost all 3 sons. I won't to just fall apart and crawl in a hole but I see that she has the strength to carry on and she is 92 years old.
I am so mad and sad. This is the 2nd Christmas holiday without my son. I finally decided to search for a support group. I have been attending Alanon for over a year. They have helped me with understanding addiction. I needed to talk about the prison mess. As soon as I opened this site I saw your post.
We will get through this. Some days is harder than others. We all deserve to be happy.
But I imagine it still affects you. It sounds like you're taking all the right steps to look after yourself.
The emotions you describe are very familiar. My older brother is also a killer. In 2008, he invited a passing neighbour, a woman in her 20s into his house. I don't know why she went inside, but my brother attacked and then strangled her. He used her body for sex and hid her under the floor of his home. He somehow hid his crime from his wife and my family for a year. He even invited people over for dinner. One morning in 2009, his wife refused to have sex and he strangled her too. He did the same things with her body. He then reported his wife missing. When the police interviewed him he finally displayed some guilt and revealed what he had done. He was convicted and sentenced to life, there is no death penalty in my country. It's been 9 years now. My family is broken worse than it already was, but I have found support in my patient, loving wife and her family. My children are delightful and bring me real joy. The pain will ease and the wounds to your soul will become scar tissue. I suffered for a long time, around 7 years, thinking about his crime literally every day. I got mentally ill, I tried to understand why, I went around and around every horrible aspect of our childhood trying to understand what finally broke him and how I could have stopped it. My brother was starved of oxygen at birth, which damaged his brain. He saw my father regularly strangle my mother and as a young man he was repeatedly raped at a boarding school. He was abused verbally by kids at school and strangers on the street. Everyone could tell hecwas different. He become withdrawn and fixated with violent war films. In his late 20s he began first asking, then begging and demanding money from all of his family and church. I stopped feeling sorry for him and cut him off at that point, I told him I wouldn't speak to him again unless he changed his ways. The next contact I had with him was a year later when he sent out an email saying his wife had been missing for two days. I replied, worried for her and telling him everything would be alright. He didn't reply, and the next day I got an email from my younger brother telling me my older brother had been arrested. The shock was immense. I cried so hard for so long. I've cried a lot since then, had suicidal thoughts, gone on antidepressants, then off, then on again. I can't forgive him. At some point the responsibility for his actions has to shift from our terrible parents and lie solely with my brother. life carries on and so do we, you heal, you learn to laugh again. I have days, maybe whole weeks now where I don't think about my brother anymore. It's taken a long time but I have hope again. I hope that reading my story will show you that you are not alone, and that you can get through it.
Im.....well I'm fucked up now. 3 years after it hasn't gotten easier. I pray you find peace.
If you ever need an ear.....let me know and I'll get you my contact information.