January 25th, 2025
A person who I care about is currently in jail. I was the one who called the police on them, and I don’t regret doing it. The person was at that time a danger to themselves and to others. Still, I feel bad about making that decision. It hurt. Intellectually, my choice to call the cops makes total sense. Emotionally, it feels horrible.
I have had several people, including two therapists, ask me if I feel a sense of relief that this person is incarcerated. Yes and no. I can relax a bit knowing that nobody got hurt and, while the person is in jail, they will not hurt any member of the public. One therapist told me that this individual is “safe” where they are. That depends on what “safe” means. The person is in a secure facility and under nearly constant supervision, but that is not necessarily the same as being safe. Inmates often carry homemade weapons. It’s not hard for somebody to make and use a shank. Jails tend to be full of people who are violent or at least unstable. The person I know may in fact be safer than they would be on the outside, but that isn’t saying much.
While the person was at large, they caused me and others intense stress and anxiety. That is for now a thing of the past. Yet, it’s not like they just dropped off the face of the earth. It’s not like I say, “Okay, we’re done with that person. We can move on.” I can’t. There is still a relationship. The person is absent but not gone.
This person has been in jail before. We all know the drill. While they are incarcerated, whether it be in jail or in prison, they will need my support and that of other people. An inmate has very little access to many of the things we take for granted. This person is allowed extremely limited phone time and may only call out. Nobody can call them. They have no computer access. Basically, an inmate has a few phone calls, and they have snail mail. That’s it. In practice, this means that somebody on the outside, in this case meaning me, has to handle their personal affairs. I am just as closely bound to this person as I would be if they were sitting next to me, maybe more so.
I go to bed at night thinking about this person. I think about them again as soon as I wake up. I worry about them all during the day.
For better or worse, they are constantly with me. I guess that’s okay.
Frank is Emptiness 