pressed charges...terrified and want to drop them but they wont let me
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 33
Thank you Anaya, but it goes deeper than us just being safe. I don't know where I will be living and am taking it day by day. The warrant for the arrest is taking long and not to mention that I wanted to drop charges and this nightmare would end. By calling the police I only made matters worse. But I can't reverse it and I keep asking for advice but I know there is nothing anyone can really tell me. As of right now, I am concerned about my living situation and the warrant for the arrest.
Also, one question. He has court coming up soon about his parole. Will they mention something in there about the violation of the parole if he is not arrested by then but there's a warrant out for his arrest? Or - Will the domestic violence charges be considered separate? See, I don't think he should just get away with acting this terribly, but I want the punishment to fit the crime and not be extreme. I do not want my brother in jail. I want him to get help. Is there any chance I can get the charges dropped? Why won't they let me speak to the DA untill the warrant for the arrest is out? I want to speak with them so that there won't be a warrant for his arrest.
Also, one question. He has court coming up soon about his parole. Will they mention something in there about the violation of the parole if he is not arrested by then but there's a warrant out for his arrest? Or - Will the domestic violence charges be considered separate? See, I don't think he should just get away with acting this terribly, but I want the punishment to fit the crime and not be extreme. I do not want my brother in jail. I want him to get help. Is there any chance I can get the charges dropped? Why won't they let me speak to the DA untill the warrant for the arrest is out? I want to speak with them so that there won't be a warrant for his arrest.
Member
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Chicago area
Posts: 4,269
[QUOTE=Beautifulsoul;3544724]
A lot of you say jail will straighten him out but he was in jail before and my goodness, he came out WORSE. QUOTE]
I do not recall reading a lot of posts saying jail will straighten him out. Prison creates an opportunity to get and stay sober, work on his recovery, learn something and grow up, if he is interested in change.
If he's not interested, prison would minimally get him off the street and out of your parent's home and do so before he acts upon his threats.
A lot of you say jail will straighten him out but he was in jail before and my goodness, he came out WORSE. QUOTE]
I do not recall reading a lot of posts saying jail will straighten him out. Prison creates an opportunity to get and stay sober, work on his recovery, learn something and grow up, if he is interested in change.
If he's not interested, prison would minimally get him off the street and out of your parent's home and do so before he acts upon his threats.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 33
[QUOTE=outtolunch;3544767]
A lot of you say jail will straighten him out but he was in jail before and my goodness, he came out WORSE. QUOTE]
I do not recall reading a lot of posts saying jail will straighten him out. Prison creates an opportunity to get and stay sober, work on his recovery, learn something and grow up, if he is interested in change.
If he's not interested, prison would minimally get him off the street and out of your parent's home and do so before he acts upon his threats.
Yeah. I hear ya! I just have this knot in my stomach and feel like am in "survival mode". You know, when you're in those situations that your whole body wonders "how did i get here?" Do you know anything about the law as far as my other questions are concerned? I feel very uneducated on the matter.
Originally Posted by Beautifulsoul 
A lot of you say jail will straighten him out but he was in jail before and my goodness, he came out WORSE. QUOTE]
I do not recall reading a lot of posts saying jail will straighten him out. Prison creates an opportunity to get and stay sober, work on his recovery, learn something and grow up, if he is interested in change.
If he's not interested, prison would minimally get him off the street and out of your parent's home and do so before he acts upon his threats.
Yeah. I hear ya! I just have this knot in my stomach and feel like am in "survival mode". You know, when you're in those situations that your whole body wonders "how did i get here?" Do you know anything about the law as far as my other questions are concerned? I feel very uneducated on the matter.
Still Standing
Join Date: Jul 2003
Location: Here @ SR.
Posts: 3,296
Beautifulsoul,
I don't know anything about the law, but I do know from reading your threads that you have very good reason to feel that you are in survival mode. You are in danger. You have a young brother that is very sick mentally, but he also tends towards violence. Yes, he needs help, but you have to deal with the problem at hand and that is your safety. If you get them to drop the charges & nothing is done to keep your brother away from you, he will only get worse and you and your family will be in more danger. Or at least, that's the way that it appears to me from what you've said. It doesn't seem to me like you should be trying to press the DA to drop those charges, but that you should be pushing for the warrant to be served sooner. You want your brother to get the help that he needs, I can certainly understand that since my son is the addict in my life, but say you get them to drop the charges & then he kills one of your family members, how's his life gonna be then, as a murderer. He certainly won't get the mental help he needs then. Please, choose your safety & that of your family first and then you can think about how to get him the help that he needs or just maybe Our God will send him the help he needs at just the right time while he is incarcerated. Those are just my thoughts, because I'm concerned for you.
I don't know anything about the law, but I do know from reading your threads that you have very good reason to feel that you are in survival mode. You are in danger. You have a young brother that is very sick mentally, but he also tends towards violence. Yes, he needs help, but you have to deal with the problem at hand and that is your safety. If you get them to drop the charges & nothing is done to keep your brother away from you, he will only get worse and you and your family will be in more danger. Or at least, that's the way that it appears to me from what you've said. It doesn't seem to me like you should be trying to press the DA to drop those charges, but that you should be pushing for the warrant to be served sooner. You want your brother to get the help that he needs, I can certainly understand that since my son is the addict in my life, but say you get them to drop the charges & then he kills one of your family members, how's his life gonna be then, as a murderer. He certainly won't get the mental help he needs then. Please, choose your safety & that of your family first and then you can think about how to get him the help that he needs or just maybe Our God will send him the help he needs at just the right time while he is incarcerated. Those are just my thoughts, because I'm concerned for you.
Member
Join Date: Jul 2012
Location: Georgia
Posts: 43
Beautifulsoul.
A little over two years ago I had my EXAB arrested. Twice. The first time was hell. The second was no easier.
The end had been coming for some time. He was no longer hiding the fact that he was using, and by that I mean that he was no longer attempting to hide it well. The monster that he would become in the hours/days following his drug use was so predictable I could have set it a place for dinner every night. We had been dating on and off for almost eight years at this point and I had everything invested in him. My hopes. My dreams. My future. OUR future. That's what I wanted and stubbornly clung to hope to. I think that my willpower alone is what prolonged our relationship to the point it did. But you can't fight the demons our loved ones amass along the way, they aren't ours, they're theirs, and we are powerless against both demons and loved ones.
His behavior changed more and more in order to orchestrate drugs into his life. He claimed he could never get a hold of H in the town where we lived so he was forever gathering and taking prescription medications he could find, buy, weasel, and steal. At one point he even took up drug dealing, took all his product, and we hid in fear for our lives from the the persons we knew would come to collect.
Eventually his habits became so bent around drugs that our relationship was simply dissolved. How rude to wake up (or was I awake all along?) and to find that life has steered such a beautiful seeming existence into some hellish nightmare you never wanted, or anticipated. It's both a rude and unfair awakening and I think, at least for me in my opinion, it's completely normal to rebel against its unjust truth. Especially when it comes to people with beautiful souls.
So my EXAB lost job after job after job because he couldn't make it to work, or he literally couldn't work, and word got around our close-knit community that he was a H junkie and by that time the marks owned him through-and-through. You can't hide the lethargy, the mood swings, the blood, the bruises.
So he went from place to place and fell farther and farther into insanity so willingly and fast it was all I could do to barely keep up and hold fast to the fabric of his coat-tails as he slipped further out of my grasp and any sanctuary my love could offer him.
In the end he took up a job with a cab company and when it didn't work out with the first one he found another in the city that hired him. I remember how proud his was of his photo. It was ghoulish. Every time I looked at the pale, skinny, sickly creature with hollow eyes looking out of his I became sick. I know the cab company kept him because he wasn't the only one on dope. The dope sick will help the dope sick, and you just can't fight their army. I'll hand it to addicts when it comes to this: When they want to band together to keep each other on the s*it, by golly they can do that well.
So along with this cab job came twelve hour shifts. He worked 6pm at night until 6am in the morning. Not a lot of good, christian people (so to speak, I'm sure there are some) that keep those kinds of hours. He would stop in, sometimes announced, sometimes not. Sometimes I would drive my car up to abandoned parking lots where he would sit and kill time just to see him.
I was terrified for him in those weeks. He was nodding out all the time. I would watch him do it at the wheel. I wondered if his customers knew, and then became ill because I knew some of them did...then realized they could sell dope to him.
He did a lot of favors in those days. Took a lot of people to Atlanta to shuttle drugs and got drugs free or on a "discount" for his trouble and time. I remember I couldn't take it anymore. I fell into one of my darkest nights of the soul.
I broke it off with him for the first time. It wasn't to be the last but I didn't know it then. He lost whatever was left of his mind.
I would sit in my little house, hours away from my family. My friends didn't know what was going on. I never told them. They would only hate him and this wasn't him, right? He wasn't this monster, right? He was still himself and this was just some hell we could come through together, right? All he needed was a hand, why condemn him, right?!
So I didn't share with anyone and I was completely alone.
I realized that distinctly when he started stalking me. I would range in intensity. Sometimes he's beat upon my door, my windows, rattling the frames and my nerves. Other times he'd simply lurk outside in his taxi cab. Or in person in my bushes or even in the dark of the ditch in my neighbors yard.
When he did beat upon the door he would scream at me. Curse me. Insult me. Make me cry. He'd tell me what a coward I was to not open the door. Ask me how I could treat him like this after all these years. Call people on the phone and laugh to them that I was literally hiding from him inside my house and banter about what a psycho I was to do that. He told me I s*it on his heart. Me. The one crying inside. The one scared. The one who only wanted a chance at a life with the only man I'd ever loved. The man I'd already lost before I'd met him. The man I had wanted to call husband. Me. I'd s*it on HIS heart. It was too much to bear.
I remember I caved one night. All of this had been going on for days, followed by an assault of romantic, pleading texts, phone calls, letters, you name it. All telling me how he missed me, how I was his woman, how we were meant together and couldn't we please hunny just figure this out together? God I really desperately beyond all logical reasoning wanted to believe all that horses*it.
So one night I decided all I needed was some company and I called an old friend who was also an old boyfriend from four years prior. I could use that to justify my EXAB actions, but it's not justifiable. The EXAB came by my house, heard me and my company talking inside (he had just helped me to laugh after crying to him about my EXAB and asking advice what to do). My EXAB pounded on my door and threatened to break it down. Against my friend's will I went outside to confront him and shut my door and screen door behind me. My EXAB got in my face and screamed at me, asking again and again who was inside the house and I tried, as calmly as possible to ask him to leave with my tone even and my voice low. This didn't go over well and he threw me off my porch on the ground outside, ripped the door open so hard he broke the handle literally OUT of the door, and proceeded to beat the ever living s*it out of my friend. When he was done with him he threw my friend into my toilet so hard he broke it and the pipes underneath it. By the grace of God (or whomever) my EXAB didn't kill him. He left. I was shaking so hard I couldn't grasp the phone, and with blood pouring out of everywhere of himself, my friend called the police.
I didn't press charges.
My friend did everything in his power to press charges.
In the end I was subpoenaed to go to court.
I did everything to help my EXAB. I became best friends with the DA's office, on a first name basis with everyone. I wrote affidavits, gave officially sanctioned statements, did everything to undermine my friend's good standing with the court and drag his name in the dirt, all in an attempt to help my EXAB. I'm still not sure why. But I think it's because I loved him. And I blamed myself.
In the end he spent two weeks in the county jail. Then got probation. In less than two months we were dating again. This time without the knowledge of my friends and family who had hardened against him entirely. Now I really was utterly alone.
People started talking about me. Saying I must be a junkie too (I've never touched the stuff). Saying I must have something wrong with me. Saying I was a battered, damaged, stupid woman. How dare they? I'd think. They have NO idea how much strength it takes to be me, I'd think. They would fu**ing crumble where I've stood, I'd think.
And I allowed it to happen again. The next time we fought and I tried to break up with him he cornered me on my porch. Again. He screamed and fumed and repeatedly punched the wall directly next to my head. Blah blah blah BLAM blah BLAM blah blah BLAM!
I'd jump every time. I never saw the next blow coming. And my EXAB was built like a tank. Ever time his fist landed on the wall next to my head I was sure the next would be my face, then lights out. When I managed to push past him and into my house he continued stalking me.
I eventually gave up and called the police. I wouldn't tell them a thing until they assured me they WOULDN'T arrest him. I made that clear, I DID NOT want him arrested. They promised me and I told them I just needed someone to patrol my house every once in a while. Told him his cab company and number. About the stalking and late night/early morning poundings/cursings/screamings. I said I just wanted someone to talk to him. Someone with a badge, just to let him know I was serious, to tell him to move it along. The cops told me this was no problem. They put an officer on it and he came to my house and we talked. He assurred me again no arressts would be made. He told me he would patrol, but to call him if my EXAB came back to the house so he could talk with him.
And so it happened. Like clockwork. My EXAB came to my place SSDD (same stuff different day). He was pounding and figeting with the locks and the windows, which weren't secured and were literally nailed shut at this point to keep him out. But I felt now more like I was locked in. And I was scared. Then everything went quiet and I found the courage to call and whisper in the phone that he had been there but I think he was gone. The dispatch said the officer I talked to was in the neighborhood and on the way. I crawled to the front door and heard the patrol car pull up. I heard talking. They I heard my EXAB say, "Why man?" and get cuffed.
The sound of his screaming my name, not in anger, but in agony...with what sounded like the tormented soul of a man who was no longer his own...calling the only woman he ever loved...cut me so deep. I will never loose the pain of that sound and if I let my mind stray too far into thought, I hear it again and I still cry. I couldn't bear it. I wept and I watched as they put him into the back of what was now TWO patrol cars.
I ran outside as the first car took him away and still sobbing I began to hit the officer I'd talked with earlier.
"You promised me you wouldn't take him you liar! You fu#King liar!" I just sobbed and screamed and beat my fists on him. And he let me. He finally grabbed my arms and said, "Look hunny. I had to arrest him. When I drove up he was crouched down on your porch, he had something in his hands. He tried to toss it away when I approached, tried to hide. When I searched him...I found a screwdriver in his pocket."
I told that cop he was a f#cking liar. I told him what was against the law about having a screwdriver? That my EXAB was a cab driver maybe he needed it for his car. I cursed the cop, his family, the whole damn fleet. He simply left me a card with a case number, told me to try and calm down and good night.
As he drove away I sank to the ground crying so hard I couldn't breath. I thought about my EXAB in that car screaming and pleading my name like a prayer. I thought about him in the cold jail cell AGAIN. I thought about how both times now it was like I'd sent him there. I thought so much until I was so numb I felt dead dead dead and wanted to be dead to. Every thing was utterly hopeless.
When I took my hand away from my face it fell to my side and my finger knocked against something that rolled away from my leg. I looked to my side and there, on the ground below my porch window, were screws.
Screws that held my window shut.
Screws that as I frantically began holding them up to the window frame in realization, had just been removed.
I had called the cop a liar. I had hit him. I had cursed his very family and profession. And he had quite possibly saved me from death that night. A death I didn't care to foresee because I was too busy trying to justify and reconcile the actions of someone who would never do a FRACTION of the caring for me that I did for him.
But even this, Beautifulsoul, was not enough to satiate me.
Not six months ago he choked me out on my roof when I scrambled out to it to escape him. He followed me out, he held me down, he wrapped his hands around my throat, and he squeezed until I couldn't breathe or see anything but fear fear fear panic and death. He let go because he WANTED to let go. I did nothing because I COULDN'T do anything. He is MUCH stronger than I am.
My point, Beautifulsoul, is YOU can not make this better.
YOU did NOT SEND your loved one to jail.
YOU are NOT SENDING HIM to jail.
HE has done it TO HIMSELF.
YOU are NOT RESPONSIBLE for HIM.
We must ALL choose our OWN way.
I told my EXAB once, "I didn't make this bed. I just lie in it until it no longer had room for me."
YOU have to let go or you will die. Physically, or spiritually, or in some other fashion equally awful and quite possibly unfathomable to you right now, at this point in your life and way of thinking. It's not a threat, and I DON'T wish it upon you, but I speak as one who knows and who is CONCERNED about YOU. NOT HIM. YOU.
If you are aptly named, and I believe you are, I beg you not to let your Beautiful Soul go.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I CANNOT CHANGE.
The courage to change the things I can.
And the WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."
Keep posting. And big big BIG hugs.
A little over two years ago I had my EXAB arrested. Twice. The first time was hell. The second was no easier.
The end had been coming for some time. He was no longer hiding the fact that he was using, and by that I mean that he was no longer attempting to hide it well. The monster that he would become in the hours/days following his drug use was so predictable I could have set it a place for dinner every night. We had been dating on and off for almost eight years at this point and I had everything invested in him. My hopes. My dreams. My future. OUR future. That's what I wanted and stubbornly clung to hope to. I think that my willpower alone is what prolonged our relationship to the point it did. But you can't fight the demons our loved ones amass along the way, they aren't ours, they're theirs, and we are powerless against both demons and loved ones.
His behavior changed more and more in order to orchestrate drugs into his life. He claimed he could never get a hold of H in the town where we lived so he was forever gathering and taking prescription medications he could find, buy, weasel, and steal. At one point he even took up drug dealing, took all his product, and we hid in fear for our lives from the the persons we knew would come to collect.
Eventually his habits became so bent around drugs that our relationship was simply dissolved. How rude to wake up (or was I awake all along?) and to find that life has steered such a beautiful seeming existence into some hellish nightmare you never wanted, or anticipated. It's both a rude and unfair awakening and I think, at least for me in my opinion, it's completely normal to rebel against its unjust truth. Especially when it comes to people with beautiful souls.
So my EXAB lost job after job after job because he couldn't make it to work, or he literally couldn't work, and word got around our close-knit community that he was a H junkie and by that time the marks owned him through-and-through. You can't hide the lethargy, the mood swings, the blood, the bruises.
So he went from place to place and fell farther and farther into insanity so willingly and fast it was all I could do to barely keep up and hold fast to the fabric of his coat-tails as he slipped further out of my grasp and any sanctuary my love could offer him.
In the end he took up a job with a cab company and when it didn't work out with the first one he found another in the city that hired him. I remember how proud his was of his photo. It was ghoulish. Every time I looked at the pale, skinny, sickly creature with hollow eyes looking out of his I became sick. I know the cab company kept him because he wasn't the only one on dope. The dope sick will help the dope sick, and you just can't fight their army. I'll hand it to addicts when it comes to this: When they want to band together to keep each other on the s*it, by golly they can do that well.
So along with this cab job came twelve hour shifts. He worked 6pm at night until 6am in the morning. Not a lot of good, christian people (so to speak, I'm sure there are some) that keep those kinds of hours. He would stop in, sometimes announced, sometimes not. Sometimes I would drive my car up to abandoned parking lots where he would sit and kill time just to see him.
I was terrified for him in those weeks. He was nodding out all the time. I would watch him do it at the wheel. I wondered if his customers knew, and then became ill because I knew some of them did...then realized they could sell dope to him.
He did a lot of favors in those days. Took a lot of people to Atlanta to shuttle drugs and got drugs free or on a "discount" for his trouble and time. I remember I couldn't take it anymore. I fell into one of my darkest nights of the soul.
I broke it off with him for the first time. It wasn't to be the last but I didn't know it then. He lost whatever was left of his mind.
I would sit in my little house, hours away from my family. My friends didn't know what was going on. I never told them. They would only hate him and this wasn't him, right? He wasn't this monster, right? He was still himself and this was just some hell we could come through together, right? All he needed was a hand, why condemn him, right?!
So I didn't share with anyone and I was completely alone.
I realized that distinctly when he started stalking me. I would range in intensity. Sometimes he's beat upon my door, my windows, rattling the frames and my nerves. Other times he'd simply lurk outside in his taxi cab. Or in person in my bushes or even in the dark of the ditch in my neighbors yard.
When he did beat upon the door he would scream at me. Curse me. Insult me. Make me cry. He'd tell me what a coward I was to not open the door. Ask me how I could treat him like this after all these years. Call people on the phone and laugh to them that I was literally hiding from him inside my house and banter about what a psycho I was to do that. He told me I s*it on his heart. Me. The one crying inside. The one scared. The one who only wanted a chance at a life with the only man I'd ever loved. The man I'd already lost before I'd met him. The man I had wanted to call husband. Me. I'd s*it on HIS heart. It was too much to bear.
I remember I caved one night. All of this had been going on for days, followed by an assault of romantic, pleading texts, phone calls, letters, you name it. All telling me how he missed me, how I was his woman, how we were meant together and couldn't we please hunny just figure this out together? God I really desperately beyond all logical reasoning wanted to believe all that horses*it.
So one night I decided all I needed was some company and I called an old friend who was also an old boyfriend from four years prior. I could use that to justify my EXAB actions, but it's not justifiable. The EXAB came by my house, heard me and my company talking inside (he had just helped me to laugh after crying to him about my EXAB and asking advice what to do). My EXAB pounded on my door and threatened to break it down. Against my friend's will I went outside to confront him and shut my door and screen door behind me. My EXAB got in my face and screamed at me, asking again and again who was inside the house and I tried, as calmly as possible to ask him to leave with my tone even and my voice low. This didn't go over well and he threw me off my porch on the ground outside, ripped the door open so hard he broke the handle literally OUT of the door, and proceeded to beat the ever living s*it out of my friend. When he was done with him he threw my friend into my toilet so hard he broke it and the pipes underneath it. By the grace of God (or whomever) my EXAB didn't kill him. He left. I was shaking so hard I couldn't grasp the phone, and with blood pouring out of everywhere of himself, my friend called the police.
I didn't press charges.
My friend did everything in his power to press charges.
In the end I was subpoenaed to go to court.
I did everything to help my EXAB. I became best friends with the DA's office, on a first name basis with everyone. I wrote affidavits, gave officially sanctioned statements, did everything to undermine my friend's good standing with the court and drag his name in the dirt, all in an attempt to help my EXAB. I'm still not sure why. But I think it's because I loved him. And I blamed myself.
In the end he spent two weeks in the county jail. Then got probation. In less than two months we were dating again. This time without the knowledge of my friends and family who had hardened against him entirely. Now I really was utterly alone.
People started talking about me. Saying I must be a junkie too (I've never touched the stuff). Saying I must have something wrong with me. Saying I was a battered, damaged, stupid woman. How dare they? I'd think. They have NO idea how much strength it takes to be me, I'd think. They would fu**ing crumble where I've stood, I'd think.
And I allowed it to happen again. The next time we fought and I tried to break up with him he cornered me on my porch. Again. He screamed and fumed and repeatedly punched the wall directly next to my head. Blah blah blah BLAM blah BLAM blah blah BLAM!
I'd jump every time. I never saw the next blow coming. And my EXAB was built like a tank. Ever time his fist landed on the wall next to my head I was sure the next would be my face, then lights out. When I managed to push past him and into my house he continued stalking me.
I eventually gave up and called the police. I wouldn't tell them a thing until they assured me they WOULDN'T arrest him. I made that clear, I DID NOT want him arrested. They promised me and I told them I just needed someone to patrol my house every once in a while. Told him his cab company and number. About the stalking and late night/early morning poundings/cursings/screamings. I said I just wanted someone to talk to him. Someone with a badge, just to let him know I was serious, to tell him to move it along. The cops told me this was no problem. They put an officer on it and he came to my house and we talked. He assurred me again no arressts would be made. He told me he would patrol, but to call him if my EXAB came back to the house so he could talk with him.
And so it happened. Like clockwork. My EXAB came to my place SSDD (same stuff different day). He was pounding and figeting with the locks and the windows, which weren't secured and were literally nailed shut at this point to keep him out. But I felt now more like I was locked in. And I was scared. Then everything went quiet and I found the courage to call and whisper in the phone that he had been there but I think he was gone. The dispatch said the officer I talked to was in the neighborhood and on the way. I crawled to the front door and heard the patrol car pull up. I heard talking. They I heard my EXAB say, "Why man?" and get cuffed.
The sound of his screaming my name, not in anger, but in agony...with what sounded like the tormented soul of a man who was no longer his own...calling the only woman he ever loved...cut me so deep. I will never loose the pain of that sound and if I let my mind stray too far into thought, I hear it again and I still cry. I couldn't bear it. I wept and I watched as they put him into the back of what was now TWO patrol cars.
I ran outside as the first car took him away and still sobbing I began to hit the officer I'd talked with earlier.
"You promised me you wouldn't take him you liar! You fu#King liar!" I just sobbed and screamed and beat my fists on him. And he let me. He finally grabbed my arms and said, "Look hunny. I had to arrest him. When I drove up he was crouched down on your porch, he had something in his hands. He tried to toss it away when I approached, tried to hide. When I searched him...I found a screwdriver in his pocket."
I told that cop he was a f#cking liar. I told him what was against the law about having a screwdriver? That my EXAB was a cab driver maybe he needed it for his car. I cursed the cop, his family, the whole damn fleet. He simply left me a card with a case number, told me to try and calm down and good night.
As he drove away I sank to the ground crying so hard I couldn't breath. I thought about my EXAB in that car screaming and pleading my name like a prayer. I thought about him in the cold jail cell AGAIN. I thought about how both times now it was like I'd sent him there. I thought so much until I was so numb I felt dead dead dead and wanted to be dead to. Every thing was utterly hopeless.
When I took my hand away from my face it fell to my side and my finger knocked against something that rolled away from my leg. I looked to my side and there, on the ground below my porch window, were screws.
Screws that held my window shut.
Screws that as I frantically began holding them up to the window frame in realization, had just been removed.
I had called the cop a liar. I had hit him. I had cursed his very family and profession. And he had quite possibly saved me from death that night. A death I didn't care to foresee because I was too busy trying to justify and reconcile the actions of someone who would never do a FRACTION of the caring for me that I did for him.
But even this, Beautifulsoul, was not enough to satiate me.
Not six months ago he choked me out on my roof when I scrambled out to it to escape him. He followed me out, he held me down, he wrapped his hands around my throat, and he squeezed until I couldn't breathe or see anything but fear fear fear panic and death. He let go because he WANTED to let go. I did nothing because I COULDN'T do anything. He is MUCH stronger than I am.
My point, Beautifulsoul, is YOU can not make this better.
YOU did NOT SEND your loved one to jail.
YOU are NOT SENDING HIM to jail.
HE has done it TO HIMSELF.
YOU are NOT RESPONSIBLE for HIM.
We must ALL choose our OWN way.
I told my EXAB once, "I didn't make this bed. I just lie in it until it no longer had room for me."
YOU have to let go or you will die. Physically, or spiritually, or in some other fashion equally awful and quite possibly unfathomable to you right now, at this point in your life and way of thinking. It's not a threat, and I DON'T wish it upon you, but I speak as one who knows and who is CONCERNED about YOU. NOT HIM. YOU.
If you are aptly named, and I believe you are, I beg you not to let your Beautiful Soul go.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I CANNOT CHANGE.
The courage to change the things I can.
And the WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE."
Keep posting. And big big BIG hugs.
Member
Join Date: Jan 2008
Posts: 325
Thank you for sharing your story, hewhosleeps.
Beautifulsoul, I urge you to please talk with a domestic abuse counseling center.
They will be able to understand, how you feel, and help you. This is not just about,
chemical dependency. Please don't be confused.
Not all addicts, use fear to control, manipulate and hurt the people they love. He has crossed the line. He needs more help then treatment for addiction, and so do you dear.
You are now an adult, you CAN make choices. Ones that are good, healthy, keep YOU safe.
Beautifulsoul, I urge you to please talk with a domestic abuse counseling center.
They will be able to understand, how you feel, and help you. This is not just about,
chemical dependency. Please don't be confused.
Not all addicts, use fear to control, manipulate and hurt the people they love. He has crossed the line. He needs more help then treatment for addiction, and so do you dear.
You are now an adult, you CAN make choices. Ones that are good, healthy, keep YOU safe.
Member
Join Date: Dec 2007
Location: The Jungle
Posts: 5,435
Take the "brother" out of this equation. Would you have called the police if it had been anyone else making the threats or becoming violent? I suspect the answer would be a resounding YES!
We rethink our positions based upon FEAR, OBLIGATION, and GUILT (FOG). And this is exactly the position the addict would like to keep you in.....a FOG. Once we break out of the FOG and are able to think a little clearer, there is an opportunity for things to get better.
The "process" isn't always as fast as we would like it to be but these threats are very serious. Restraining orders are very much in order. I have filed restraining orders against my XAH and my AS before.....did it feel good? Of course not. Am I glad I did it? You bet.
Right now it sounds like you are very afraid of him showing up......kind of like the feeling of being stalked by an animal of prey. Your "fight or flight" response is in high gear. This is not a response that is suppose to be turned ON all the time. It is tiring....exhausting.
If he goes to jail, it is because of HIS actions.....not yours. And if he is threatening and violent, he belongs in jail. Period. It doesn't matter who he is, brother or not, no one should have the right to keep people in a state of FEAR 24/7.
You and your family will be in my prayers today.
gentle hugs
ke
We rethink our positions based upon FEAR, OBLIGATION, and GUILT (FOG). And this is exactly the position the addict would like to keep you in.....a FOG. Once we break out of the FOG and are able to think a little clearer, there is an opportunity for things to get better.
The "process" isn't always as fast as we would like it to be but these threats are very serious. Restraining orders are very much in order. I have filed restraining orders against my XAH and my AS before.....did it feel good? Of course not. Am I glad I did it? You bet.
Right now it sounds like you are very afraid of him showing up......kind of like the feeling of being stalked by an animal of prey. Your "fight or flight" response is in high gear. This is not a response that is suppose to be turned ON all the time. It is tiring....exhausting.
If he goes to jail, it is because of HIS actions.....not yours. And if he is threatening and violent, he belongs in jail. Period. It doesn't matter who he is, brother or not, no one should have the right to keep people in a state of FEAR 24/7.
You and your family will be in my prayers today.
gentle hugs
ke
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 33
Thank you all so much for your replies!
Hewhosleeps- thank you for sharing your story, it put tears in my eyes.
Yes, if it was someone else I would have called the police in a heartbeat with no remorse. But, you are right. This is my brother. I KNOW he has issues and I just DON'T KNOW how to fix things, how to make everything okay again. I keep thinking "Did I do the wrong thing?" Maybe I am making excuses. I think of how in all his life he has never hit me, but this month has threatened to beat the s*it out of me and even kill me. He has made these threats only when 1) I refused to give him money for drugs. 2) I threatened to call the cops after he would start screaming about me not giving him money for drugs. In a moment of anger he pushed my mother"acidentally" and she fell and had to go to the ER. He has fought with my father and hit him (on his face, badly) about 3 times in his life, when my father would get in his face after my brother would have his tantrums. This is NO EXCUSE however, i KNOW nobody deserves to get hit. But then I think, we were raised in an abusive household where we would get beaten if we did something wrong. He was taught that violence is okay if the other person pisses u off. He has anger issues and the drugs bring that out on him. I think of how much i want him to get HELP. I don't want to HURT him. If he wasn't on parole it would be different but he is. I keep thinking how he wouldn't have hurt me if I didnt call the police and I wouldnt be scared right now if i didnt call the police. I am scared now because i called the police. Hewhosleeps- you say you became best friends with the DA office, they wont even let me talk to the DA. Memories of when we were younger play in my head and even recent ones. What makes this even more confusing is the fact that I have seen him suffer through these past years and he takes these pills to numb his pain. He thinks it is the solution. He is one of those addicts that is in complete denial and he thinks we are the evil crazy ones telling him to stop the pills. He would say "Do you want me to suffer again?" And I have told him NO! I want u to get help. And he says "the PILLS are my help." The sad part is that he has suffered from depression for years and has even tried committing suicide. It would be one thing if he was simply an addict. The violence and threats started with the drugs. He was not like this before he was an addict. Yet he is too harheaded for his own good and nothing we have done to help him with his mental illness has worked because he has refused help because "doctors dont know what they are doing." He is also somewhat delusional and is completely lost on these pills. Friends told me they see him on the streets laughing and talking to himself. I know he has turned into a monster and me and my family's safety comes FIRST, please do not misunderstand, I am not making excuses for him, but I am also in pain for HIM for the monster he has become, to HIMSELF and to US. He needs HELP. HELP. HELP. HELP! The kinds that cannot be found in prison. The kind that may or may not exist. And once clean off the drugs, he needs help for his mental issues and help to reintegrate with society,to reintegrate with NORMAL people who do not do drugs. I dont know what could help a hardheaded addict in super denial with mental issues.
I also think the system should be more willing to listen to the people that are involved in stuff like this (like myself). The DA wont even see me. I feel like a second class citizen when trying to talk to these people. Why is that? They don't even know what I am about to say. They say untill the warrant for the arrest is out, you cannot talk to the DA. When will it be out? We dont know. Um..ok.
Hewhosleeps- thank you for sharing your story, it put tears in my eyes.
Yes, if it was someone else I would have called the police in a heartbeat with no remorse. But, you are right. This is my brother. I KNOW he has issues and I just DON'T KNOW how to fix things, how to make everything okay again. I keep thinking "Did I do the wrong thing?" Maybe I am making excuses. I think of how in all his life he has never hit me, but this month has threatened to beat the s*it out of me and even kill me. He has made these threats only when 1) I refused to give him money for drugs. 2) I threatened to call the cops after he would start screaming about me not giving him money for drugs. In a moment of anger he pushed my mother"acidentally" and she fell and had to go to the ER. He has fought with my father and hit him (on his face, badly) about 3 times in his life, when my father would get in his face after my brother would have his tantrums. This is NO EXCUSE however, i KNOW nobody deserves to get hit. But then I think, we were raised in an abusive household where we would get beaten if we did something wrong. He was taught that violence is okay if the other person pisses u off. He has anger issues and the drugs bring that out on him. I think of how much i want him to get HELP. I don't want to HURT him. If he wasn't on parole it would be different but he is. I keep thinking how he wouldn't have hurt me if I didnt call the police and I wouldnt be scared right now if i didnt call the police. I am scared now because i called the police. Hewhosleeps- you say you became best friends with the DA office, they wont even let me talk to the DA. Memories of when we were younger play in my head and even recent ones. What makes this even more confusing is the fact that I have seen him suffer through these past years and he takes these pills to numb his pain. He thinks it is the solution. He is one of those addicts that is in complete denial and he thinks we are the evil crazy ones telling him to stop the pills. He would say "Do you want me to suffer again?" And I have told him NO! I want u to get help. And he says "the PILLS are my help." The sad part is that he has suffered from depression for years and has even tried committing suicide. It would be one thing if he was simply an addict. The violence and threats started with the drugs. He was not like this before he was an addict. Yet he is too harheaded for his own good and nothing we have done to help him with his mental illness has worked because he has refused help because "doctors dont know what they are doing." He is also somewhat delusional and is completely lost on these pills. Friends told me they see him on the streets laughing and talking to himself. I know he has turned into a monster and me and my family's safety comes FIRST, please do not misunderstand, I am not making excuses for him, but I am also in pain for HIM for the monster he has become, to HIMSELF and to US. He needs HELP. HELP. HELP. HELP! The kinds that cannot be found in prison. The kind that may or may not exist. And once clean off the drugs, he needs help for his mental issues and help to reintegrate with society,to reintegrate with NORMAL people who do not do drugs. I dont know what could help a hardheaded addict in super denial with mental issues.
I also think the system should be more willing to listen to the people that are involved in stuff like this (like myself). The DA wont even see me. I feel like a second class citizen when trying to talk to these people. Why is that? They don't even know what I am about to say. They say untill the warrant for the arrest is out, you cannot talk to the DA. When will it be out? We dont know. Um..ok.
Member
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: Alabama
Posts: 1,741
My son is a hardheaded addict as you put it with a serious mental illness schizoaffective. he has been in and out of institutions since around age 8 be it mental facilities, juvie, jail now he is in prison and was court ordered to complete a drug program will it help I don't know but I will tell you this I feel MUCH safer for him when he is in jail he has somewhere he can sleep, eat and he will not overdose at least for that night.
You did the right thing...
You did the right thing...
Member
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Burnsville, MN
Posts: 966
Beautifulsoul,
You say "thank you" to everyone for sharing their stories, yet you still feel you and your brothers situation is somehow different. I think what you are really struggling with is your own feelings. It hurts like heck to stand up for yourself, to say "no more", to think about having a family member hurting. BELIEVE ME, I know, I've suffered through it with my son.
I was going to share my personal story about my son, my enabling, his warrants, my interaction with the police - blah, blah, blah - but more importantly, I feel I want to ENCOURAGE you to check out AlAnon or NarAnon. Get out there, meet some people dealing with the same sort of issues, bond with them, stop obsessing all by yourself, get some face-to-face support. Let Go and Let God handle your brother and you take care of yourself.
You are in my thoughts and prayers, I hope you're able to find some peace.
You say "thank you" to everyone for sharing their stories, yet you still feel you and your brothers situation is somehow different. I think what you are really struggling with is your own feelings. It hurts like heck to stand up for yourself, to say "no more", to think about having a family member hurting. BELIEVE ME, I know, I've suffered through it with my son.
I was going to share my personal story about my son, my enabling, his warrants, my interaction with the police - blah, blah, blah - but more importantly, I feel I want to ENCOURAGE you to check out AlAnon or NarAnon. Get out there, meet some people dealing with the same sort of issues, bond with them, stop obsessing all by yourself, get some face-to-face support. Let Go and Let God handle your brother and you take care of yourself.
You are in my thoughts and prayers, I hope you're able to find some peace.
Last edited by JMFburns; 08-24-2012 at 08:13 AM. Reason: Yike, poor grammar...
Member
Join Date: Nov 2010
Location: Phoenix, AZ
Posts: 324
Beautifulsoul
You got it bad.
Until you realize that you are powerless over anything that has to do with your brother, no one can help you.
You are addicted to your addict.
You can blame anyone or anything and make all the excuses for him that you want. It is your right.
It is also your right to live in fear and misery if you choose to.
Tomorrow is not a guarantee. Why spend today wrestling with someone else's alligator?
There is a lot of experience, strength and hope here. I hope you're not only reading your own threads.
You got it bad.
Until you realize that you are powerless over anything that has to do with your brother, no one can help you.
You are addicted to your addict.
You can blame anyone or anything and make all the excuses for him that you want. It is your right.
It is also your right to live in fear and misery if you choose to.
Tomorrow is not a guarantee. Why spend today wrestling with someone else's alligator?
There is a lot of experience, strength and hope here. I hope you're not only reading your own threads.
Member
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: NY
Posts: 117
I'm coming from both sides of the fence.
I'm an alcoholic with mental illness (PTSD, depression, panic disorder). I'm still responsible for my bad behavior when I was using. I'm in AA now and working on the steps and making amends, but I got help only when I had had enough....
My brother-in-law was an addict (he OD'd on Christmas Eve) and suffered from depression. Four inpatient rehabs, three stints in jail...to no avail bc he didn't want to get clean. Two of the three jail stints were bc family pressed charges. He probably lived longer because of his time in jail. He could be violent, threatening, manipulative. I'm glad a family member had the guts to press charges and stick with it because not only were we unsafe - other people were too. He drove high, stole, fought, etc.
I'm an alcoholic with mental illness (PTSD, depression, panic disorder). I'm still responsible for my bad behavior when I was using. I'm in AA now and working on the steps and making amends, but I got help only when I had had enough....
My brother-in-law was an addict (he OD'd on Christmas Eve) and suffered from depression. Four inpatient rehabs, three stints in jail...to no avail bc he didn't want to get clean. Two of the three jail stints were bc family pressed charges. He probably lived longer because of his time in jail. He could be violent, threatening, manipulative. I'm glad a family member had the guts to press charges and stick with it because not only were we unsafe - other people were too. He drove high, stole, fought, etc.
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2012
Posts: 33
I am not trying to underestimate the pain that all of you have went through. I KNOW you have went through A LOT! I am appreciative of all the advice that is why I always say thank you. I am just sharing my emotions because this hurts. I have never went through anything like this before. And it encourages me that ya'll tell me I did the right thing. I don't know if I did the right thing. I feel like all options given to me were s*it, but then again we all want our addicted loved ones with or without mental illnesses to be "normal" and lead a normal life. We have been robbed off a normal environment (us who live or lived in the same house with the addict and had to deal with that every day). It is just a tough situation. It is hard to find the "right" choices, because all choices hurt. I am reading other people's posts too of course and I know I can relate a lot to you guys. I just want things to get better, that is all. I want, need, crave normalcy.
The sun still shines
Join Date: Mar 2010
Posts: 472
Originally Posted by Beautifulsoul
I want, need, crave normalcy.
We all go through the WHY someone has become an addict, but you are not doing him any favours by making excuses. Your brother's behaviour has long since passed what is acceptable.
He needs a lot more help than you can give him. Accept that you didn't cause it, can't control it and definitely cannot cure it. Some people experiment with drugs and can walk away and some become addicted. Your brother is a dangerous addict and you and your family are enabling him to death.
Member
Join Date: Jun 2010
Location: USA
Posts: 2,684
Hello, Beautifulsoul. Thank you for continuing to share.
I copied this from About.com Psychology, The word crisis in Chinese is formed with the characters for danger and opportunity. A crisis presents an obstacle, trauma, or threat, but it also presents an opportunity for either growth or decline. This is an interesting interpretation and the words opportunity for...growth jump out at me.
Quoting Kindeyes from a post earlier in this thread, "Right now it sounds like you are very afraid of him showing up......kind of like the feeling of being stalked by an animal of prey. Your "fight or flight" response is in high gear. This is not a response that is suppose to be turned ON all the time. It is tiring....exhausting." Kindeyes makes a very good point.
As far as managing acute stress, I found the article at this link to be helpful: Managing Acute Stress: Diaphragmatic Breathing
Positive thoughts being sent your way from one of the moms in the posse.
I copied this from About.com Psychology, The word crisis in Chinese is formed with the characters for danger and opportunity. A crisis presents an obstacle, trauma, or threat, but it also presents an opportunity for either growth or decline. This is an interesting interpretation and the words opportunity for...growth jump out at me.
Quoting Kindeyes from a post earlier in this thread, "Right now it sounds like you are very afraid of him showing up......kind of like the feeling of being stalked by an animal of prey. Your "fight or flight" response is in high gear. This is not a response that is suppose to be turned ON all the time. It is tiring....exhausting." Kindeyes makes a very good point.
As far as managing acute stress, I found the article at this link to be helpful: Managing Acute Stress: Diaphragmatic Breathing
Positive thoughts being sent your way from one of the moms in the posse.
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