We traveled, yet again, to another state for our son’s court appearance on Tuesday of this past week. Adam has spent five months in the county jail. We’ve traveled the five-and-a-half-hour distance from our home eight times in order to support him in his desire to represent himself in court. Most of his court dates were postponed at the last minute.
At long last, he got his requested bench trial before the judge. Of course, our son's defense was scattered and unfocused, and he failed miserably. The judge ordered him to be released to our care, with mental health treatment. That is about the best outcome we could hope for, considering the broken mental health system.
It’s winter. We don’t want Adam released to the streets. However, he’ll have a six-month probationary period, during which time he can be returned to serve a two-and-a-half-year jail term on charges of harassment by phone, and breaking a no-contact order.
This is our third child who’s been diagnosed with serious mental illness. Our two other children are deceased by suicide. My husband and I are tired. For now, I’m thankful Adam is alive. Thanks to those of you who are prayer warriors in this unfolding, seemingly never-ending drama. Only our strong faith keeps us moving forward. We have very low expectations for effective care through the medical or legal community. We’re not trying to be negative. We’re just well versed in the ineffectiveness of the system.