by David Annarelli
It has become a hot topic and sound-byte catchphrase: “Mental health” is stated on the news, in ads, on talk shows, and seemingly everywhere we are assured that it is most important to face it and to care for those suffering from any of its various presentations. At the same time, and with too much of an ironic twist to be funny, prisons in the United States have become the default locale for warehousing – or throwing away – individuals who suffer from any of a wide range of mental health issues. Most of these individuals should have never been put into a prison environment and that number is upwards of 40% of the national prisoner population. I count myself as one of those people and that is why I write: so I don’t go “crazy.”
Prisons, state and federal, are not known for proper care of the humans they hold as captives. Whether or not they are deserving of their time in prison is immaterial. It is well-established and recognized that those in prison deserve to be treated as human beings. This includes but is not limited to proper mental health care. When the numbers of mental health sufferers being held seem to rise yearly, that becomes all the more important. When we add to these already pressing considerations that psychology now acknowledges that prisons actually cause mental health issues to develop and by extension can exacerbate pre-existing issues, the situation becomes more dire – the problem acute.
I am currently being held by the Virginia Department of Corrections (DOC) and even with a documented mental health history that stretches back to grade school in the 1980s and a near-fatal traumatic brain injury (TBI), the DOC is not providing anything more than cursory mental health care. Cursory amounts to two questions. Are you going to hurt yourself? Are you going to hurt another person? Answering yes to either question does not get you supposed care; instead, it leads to punitive actions of one sort or another. Answering “no” gets you even less attention. This is why I write.
I can go on in rather extensive detail as I have in many an essay, article, and journal entry. Most recently, and even where Virginia DOC policy shows I should be in a simple cell and not in a dorm environment – one of the many things I’ve documented over the years – I was moved into a dorm just four weeks ago. Making matters worse, the 24/7 lights and noise cause serious issues with lingering TBI issues, as does the almost constant and inescapable sound resulting in chronic headaches. The constant motion of people around me has pushed my anxieties to new heights, and the people and belongings squashed into every 12 by 8-foot area – a basic cell size – have created a world of paranoia and social issues. This is why I write.
It is long past time to stop warehousing mental health sufferers in prisons. It is not as convenient as officials think it to be, however quietly they think it and no matter how loudly they might speak out against it publicly.
