The persons and conversations in this story are ficticious. The statistics are not.
"Of course. I've been clean for...two months now." Jon said.
"Really?" asked his mentor.
"Yep. I'm done with it. I'm done." Jon smiles as he says this. He hates himself inside for lying to this guy. But that's all he knows to do. Lie. When people think you are doing good, you lie so they'll keep thinking it he tells himself.
Man, I wish he'd quit staring at me like that. I wonder if he knows I'm lying. I wonder...Nah. He doesn't know. He can't know. I haven't failed a piss test. My P.O. doesn't know. So nobody knows. Why is he staring at me still? What's he thinking? Did my wife tell him? Man! I'll... No. She didn't say anything. You're just being paranoid, Jon. Relax. He doesn't know. Just calm...
"Can you pee clean? Right now? If they made you pee, could you pee clean?" his mentor asks.
Damn! Leave this alone! "Yeah. I can. I swear. I haven't touched the stuff." Jon replies as his voice goes up an octave.
"Okay. Okay. It's just that you haven't called in a month. You haven't been to meetings. You haven't returned my calls. I know that when you disappear like that there's something's up. I'm just worried about you. You know you can't go back again. You'll lose your job. Your wife might leave you. Your kids, man, how many times do they have to see you go away?" the mentor says, knowing he's been lied to.
There's a long pause as Jon looks at anything but his mentor's face. They've been meeting like this off and on for nearly a year. Jon's been in and out of prison since he was 17. He's been addicted to pot, meth, crack, and alcohol since he was 15. He has two boys who have only seen him 18 months out of their short four and six years on this earth. He joined the group eleven months ago, and had every intention of changing his life. He wanted things to be like they were many long years ago. He loved God and wanted to be close to him again. He was sorry for not being there for his wife and kids. He was tired of spending his life behind bars. Deep in his heart, he still wants to change, but he just can't seem to get over the depression and the anger. His father beat him as a young boy. He was an alcoholic and never paid attention to Jon unless he was drunk and beating on him. Jon raised himself and his siblings because his mother had to work two jobs to support his dad's drinking. Deep down he hates him, although he won't admit it. Deep down he hates himself, too. There is a part of him that yearns for something better.
But he's a liar; a manipulator. People with substance abuse problems are often the best manipulators. They lie to get what they need. But it's more than just lying. It's discovering what the other person wants to hear, then exploiting it. They'll say all the right things. They'll give "Sunday school" answers to just about every question. "Sure, I'm a Christian. I read my Bible everyday. No, I don't smoke it anymore. Yes, I've changed my ways. It's not the same as it used to be. No, the money is for a bill, not for anything else." It's not their fault. Chemical dependency is a disease, not a choice.
The fact is they want those statements to be true. They want to change. Their tears and their frustrations tell you that. They are people, just like you and me, with emotions and wants and needs. They are disappointed with themselves and long for something new. But the odds are against them. An estimated 50% of drug users relapse in an average of 6 weeks after a 30 to 90 day treatment program (1). Daily stressors, or "hassles" play the biggest role in relapse. Hassles are irritating, frustrating demands that come with daily transactions with the environment (2). With a parolee those hassles can be increased ten-fold. Unemployment, lack of money, the inability to provide for the family, dealing with the probation officer, trying to pay the fines, go to the classes, arguments at home or at work, all the while trying to keep clean--these things take their toll.
Jon isn't alone. Over two-thirds of jail inmates reported symptoms of substance abuse the year prior to their arrest and conviction (3).
As Jon rides in the Department of Corrections bus, shackled and chained to the floor, he wished it would have worked this time. He wished he could go back just a few months and make a better decision. Well, one thing is for certain. He'll clean up over the next five years in the penitentiary. But who will be there for him when he gets out? Can he stay clean this time? Maybe, maybe not.
(3) Special Dependence, Abuse, and Treatment of Jail Inmates, 2002. Bureau of Justice Statistics. U.S. Department of Justice.
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