When you think about the struggles of incarcerated people, what first comes to mind? 

Maybe you think of the unpleasant and degrading experiences most people experience behind bars. That is understandable. 

But the struggle of loved ones outside, who are separated by incarceration, deserves consideration too. 

Outside of conversations with mental health staff, I rarely hear anyone express the burdens felt by loved ones in the free community. Without this insight, the true toll of incarceration cannot be understood.

Regardless of the nature of the crime, the stigma of incarceration is as inescapable as the sun in the sky. An incarcerated person will go through various emotions throughout their sentence: anger, shame, fear, depression, apathy. Loved ones on the outside experience these and more.

Both offenders and their loved ones encounter social ostracism and isolation, but this is not often discussed. This is part of what can make life in prison so oppressive — and, at the same time, paradoxically easier to bear. If you do not know what your loved ones have endured because of your mistakes, you do not feel the painful self-recriminations that often come with that. 

What happens if you do understand the effects of your incarceration on your loved ones outside? It depends on the person. There are as many people in prison who profess to care nothing about how their loved ones endured after their offense as there are those who do. 

Developing self-awareness is part of how I have grown during my rehabilitation. I try to recognize how things my loved ones say or do affect me, and how my own actions during incarceration affected them. 

A good friend I knew when I was free was recently in a life-altering auto accident. I love and care for this person, and I am invested in their health and recovery. Unfortunately, their life is in such turmoil that good reports are rare. 

Some offenders handle this type of situation by distancing themselves from their loved ones. Not because they do not care — although that is true for some — but because they do. We often feel quite frustrated, angry, impotent and depressed when we hear of our loved ones’ trials and tragedies. 

In prison, mental health assistance is often inadequate or unavailable when we need it. As a result, so many maladaptive behaviors are either born or renewed. This in turn will affect loved ones. It’s a vicious cycle. Often, the offender is blamed because even if there is awareness, there’s no common ground for understanding which means there is no productive way to communicate with their loved ones.

Here are some of what I’ve learned to guide me in my understanding of my impact on my loved ones and their impact on me:

• Hurt people hurt people. We often respond to being hurt in destructive ways because we, for whatever reason, cannot process our pain. This can look like anything from drug use to promiscuity, aggression to timidity, attention-seeking to isolation. 

• The ones who we are closest to can hurt us most and be most hurt by us. What a stranger says about our looks, behavior or past screw-ups can sting. But criticism from a loved one is like a suppurating wound, sensitive and slow to heal. That harm can go both ways.

• While we offenders can often empathize with what our loved ones experience in our absence, most people do not have a frame of reference to conceive of our day-to-day reality. Those from the free world who have never lived under conditions of incarceration cannot wholly understand our suffering. It is this disconnect that allows for frequent misunderstandings and a lack of empathy between incarcerated people and loved ones. That can be agonizing and can re-trigger a cycle of hurt and harm. 

Right now, I do all that I can to help my loved ones through their troubles. Honestly, there is not much I can do. I am still learning how to deal with situations as they are, and not how I would like them to be, a skill that could benefit incarcerated and free people alike.