Wednesday, July 13, 2011

How Many Tears Can A Mother Cry?

I think this would be an excellent title for my book; if I ever decided to write one.

After all Kenny has been through, last week he decided to start smoking spice again.

I hate spice.

He admitted it straight out. Well kinda. The first time I went into his room and told him it smelled funky and what was he doing. "Nothing, just smoked a cigarette"

I told him if he were smoking anything, especially in his room I would kick his butt out.

Hubby and I left for a 'date' (all we do is talk about our worries over dinner) when we came back Kenny wanted a ride. I knew he was high. Mama's not dumb (blind sometimes). The bloodshot eyes, the swaying, the defiance, they are all giveaways.

He admitted it and added a bunch of really nice words like "I don't give a ----" Then the threats "at least I'm not cutting myself" "I'm not thinking about killing myself when I smoke"

He left. I think he rode his bike. I didn't care right then.

Our date night and any further plans we had for that evening were over. The rest of the night was deciding what to do with Kenny. We decided he was no longer welcome here. Hubby left him a phone message and I sent him a text message.

I cried the rest of the night.

He came home the next day! What didn't he get about being kicked out!! I had already called the probation officer and left a message telling him about the spice and to throw him in jail.

The one thing we didn't want was for him to freak out and break any more doors or walls, so we let him sleep while we went about our day. He got up and asked hubby if he needed help. "No." He asked me for a ride. "No."

Again I cried.

Then hubby had a sit down with him. He told Kenny we were done. Kenny made his choices and we were making ours, blah, blah, blah. I don't think Kenny heard a word.

Still crying.

We called the probation officer again leaving yet another message. We wanted to know how the process worked. Agent 'E' called Sunday night. We told him the story and we also let him know that Kenny was suppose to start work the next day and he had an appointment with his doctor on Tuesday. Work and meds are a priority with me. We came up with a plan.

On Monday, after his first day at his new job, I took Kenny to court. I usually just drop him off but I went in this time. He stayed outside to smoke a cigarette and I went into the court room. He showed up and court was about to start when Kenny said I will be right back. He left his hat, cell phone, and necklaces.

Court started. They called Kenny's name... Just a little stress on my part as I spoke up and said he just stepped out. Agent 'M' was out the door. I sat for a minute and then I too was out the door. Just as I was rounding the corner up walks Kenny and Agent 'M'. He had gone out to smoke again.

Back inside the courtroom they call Kenny's name again. There was way too much noise and little events going on inside the court, too much movement, and it was a substitute judge. Kenny walked up to the stand and the judge started up about how he has missed court last time. WHAT THE...! Then she said spice, then someone interrupted and said doctor's letter (Kenny has to take a monthly letter from his therapist that Kenny is attending therapy.) So, Kenny turns to get the letter and one of the deputies that wasn't paying attention leaps across the room and yells "Kenny!" grabs for him and gets his cuffs out. The prosecutors, defense, and judge tell the deputy to put the brakes on he's just getting a letter. Oh... The court erupts in a whirl of whispers from the others with mental illness waiting their turn to go before the judge. I just shake my head at the stupidity of it all. I mean really we are in a court of law. You would think by now the deputies would know to shut up and listen when the judge walks into the court room and starts talking!

Kenny gives the letter to the court and stands again before the judge. She says spice, not suppose to use it, a week in jail. Kenny is handcuffed and taken away. As he is walking out he stares at me.

I stay in the court room. I know what is going to happen. I wait and listen while others get up and tell the court how their week as been. One woman who's hair is done up very nicely with flowers lets us all know it's her wedding day and she would like to cross state line to go to Disneyland for her honeymoon. One man can't find an apartment because no one will rent to him because he has a record. Another woman is livid that she is still on probation after NINE years (it's actually only been a few, but who's counting). The judge tried to ask her why she thinks she is still on probation and did she think maybe it's because she keeps breaking the law. The woman doesn't know why she's on probation, all she knows is that she is sick of it. I watched the deputy, that rushed Kenny, say "what's wrong with her today, just a bad day?" She has mental illness dumb ass! She was obliviously confused, upset, and yes she was probably having a shitty day. The last one to walk up was an elderly lady with white hair, glasses hanging around her neck and looked as though she had just baked cookies with her grandchild. She had to be someones grandmother. She was just there on business for a loved one. Nope, she was there to plead and start mental health court! I can't imagine what she could have possibly done. I almost want to go back week after week just to hear her story.

The court then brings Kenny back out. The judge tells him they are rethinking things, does he want a week in jail or community service. Hubby and I know this is what is going to happen. Since spice is not really illegal, he's not been in trouble with mental health court before and he has just gotten a new job they are going to give him 10 hours of community service plus a very stern warning. They are not playing games with him and they are not his parents, next time he will go to jail.  I did find out that Kenny did miss a court but it was an honest mistake and he had called the court the same day to fix things. He chooses community service.

As we are walking out of the courtroom he apologized for the dirty look he gave me. He understood that he put himself in that situation not us. I tell him he should ask about community service. One lady, from NAMI, raises her hand and says he can do community service by going to a 3 hour class and then doing some office work. I don't think so.

Today I called the Junior League who is putting on a "CARE Fair" this weekend. They will be providing free medical and community services to the public. I left a message that Kenny needed to do community service and if they needed him to carry, run, push, write, whatever, he would gladly do it. I hope they call back.

I know there are still millions of tears left in me.

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