Not For Human Consumption – Mental Health

In the unsettling realm of Jefferson County Colorado’s county jail, I found myself grappling with a profound need for mental health treatment. It was a simple request, an admission of my struggles with depression and anxiety. The response was swift – a counselor assigned me to a Drug & Alcohol class and provided a therapist.

However, the landscape drastically shifted when I entered the Colorado Department of Corrections. A similar plea for mental health support echoed into silence, met only with the distant sound of crickets. A month later, the response was disheartening – unless I posed an immediate threat to myself or others, treatment was deemed unnecessary. Staff shortages were blamed, leaving me to navigate the depths of my mental health alone.

Now confined to Solitary Confinement, the imperative for mental health treatment echoes louder, encompassing not only my own struggles but those of my fellow inmates. Recently, a neighbor’s erratic behavior pierced the monotonous solitude. Desperation manifested in relentless banging on the desk and walls. Concerned, I yelled through the vent, unraveling a tale of perceived harassment and paranoia. The aftermath haunted my sleep for three agonizing days.

Such incidents are not isolated in Solitary Confinement. The prolonged isolation induces a breaking point, manifesting in various forms of mental distress. I’ve witnessed inmates unravel mentally – from stripping naked to acts of self-harm. Some resort to extreme measures, swallowing battery packs in attempts to escape the stifling environment. What unfolds is often misconstrued as mere provocation, exacerbating the already dire situation.

When I sought mental health assistance for my distressed neighbor, bureaucratic hurdles hindered the process. The staff insisted he submit a request himself. My plea for support due to sleep deprivation was met with apathy – there was seemingly nothing that could be done. Compassion, a vital component of mental health care, was conspicuously absent.

In the current facility, the Mental Health staff is a fleeting presence. Superficial requests for paper, word searches, or pens are entertained, but deeper cries for help are met with a cold “Sorry, there is nothing I can do; put in a request.”

Without adequate mental health care, the prospect of reentry becomes grim, perpetuating a cycle of recidivism. The question looms – what will become of us?

If you wish to correspond:

Steve Ogden Jr. DC# 109636 Po Box 600 Canyon City, Colorado 81215

You can also reach me through www.Jpay.com