A Dream for Justin: One Mother's Hope for Her Sick Son

by member Clarissa Crader

Dreams Planted

On January 15, 1981, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Justin. We can’t predict our children’s future, but we take for granted that they’ll go through the various stages of crawling, walking, and all the firsts—first tooth, first grade, first job. We have hopes that they’ll find meaningful work, get married, and if we’re really lucky, bless us with grandchildren. 

Some of Justin’s firsts were his first psychotic break, his first crisis leading to hospitalization, and many first antipsychotic medications. It’s devastating for family and friends to see a family member in psychosis, and heartbreaking to witness the lost potential. Prior to being placed back in jail, Justin’s life was chaotic. He was being threatened by local thugs in what is called a Safe Haven area in Brooklyn. He had requested a “safety relocation,” which I agreed with, and was moved to another location where he was injured again. Without mental health and drug detox intervention, the cycle continued. 

While in jail in 2002, at age twenty-two, Justin was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia that distorts his reality and makes it extremely difficult for him to carry out basic daily functions. His hallucinations involve hearing police sirens speaking to him. Justin suffers with severe delusions. He identifies with and idolizes the Joker and Harlequin. On other days, he identifies as either a princess, a thirteen-year-old, or a mafia hitman. He claims to either drive a Brinks truck or a hearse. I accidentally told him to stop talking about the Mafia the other day and he became very upset with me. He said, don't take his "identity" from him - that’s who he is.

Broken Dreams

Justin is incapable of seeking help on his own, since he is not cognizant of his illness. A common feature of psychosis is anosognosia, the medical term for lack of insight. I've been, very unsuccessfully, seeking institutional care for him since he was first diagnosed. At one point, I attempted to have him live in the community on a trial basis, but that was definitely a mistake. He physically hurt several people and neglected his own care, experiencing an infected finger that became gangrene, a concussion, and a black eye.
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He lacks the mental capacity to care for his needs and I've repeatedly stressed this to all of his case managers at New York’s Center for Alternative Sentencing and Employment Services (CASES), and to the nurse who gives his monthly injection of Invega. Finally, he was placed in supportive housing, where the rent was half of his income. Based on experience, it would be another set up for failure. Unfortunately, I was right. After being registered in Brooklyn’s Maple House supportive housing in May, Justin walked out of that facility just a few short weeks later. He had not been assisted to set up a financial account, so he did not have access to his disability check. He relied on me for money, or he shoplifted.

For those three months, before his most recent arrest, we discovered my poor Justin had been sleeping on the doorsteps and hallways of our prior neighborhood. I imagine it gave him a sense of security to be back in his neighborhood. No one should have to be homeless and sleeping on the streets or subways. No mother should be paying for hotel rooms of $100-$200 per night. You see, I sold the family home in order to get housing for him. I was desperate to no longer be in fear of his friends who came to "hang out" at all hours - to steal our mail or even assault him. I used some of the money from the sale of the house to pay for a guardianship attorney, so maybe I can help 'guide' some of his decisions. 

I am writing Justin’s story on his forty-fourth birthday. His birthday is shared with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. King fought for racial equality. We need a similar fight for those with severe mental illness. Justin is right back where he started when first diagnosed. He’s on Rikers Island, waiting for a suitable treatment program to be enrolled in. 

A Birthday Wish
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My birthday wish for my son is that there are new policies, new laws, and more resources for those with serious mental illness, and for their families desperate to help them. People who are as sick as my Justin need involuntary, long-term treatment in comfortable, compassionate, and locked facilities. 

As the parent of someone with a serious mental illness, I am desperate for improved public policies and more resources. These are long overdue for the homeless and chemically-addicted mentally ill. After twenty-two years of witnessing Justin churn through homelessness and jails, I humbly ask that our politicians fix our broken mental health system.

We need your voice. Advocate for policy reforms, increased funding for mental health programs, and the establishment of more locked, humane treatment facilities that offer dignity and care. Together, we can push for legislative changes to fix the gaps in our mental health system and create a future where stories like Justin’s no longer exist. Let’s honor Justin and countless others by ensuring they receive the care they deserve.