Skip to main content

Jail, Psych Wards, and the Great American Ping-Pong Game: Why the System Can’t Decide What’s Wrong With You



Welcome to the Ping-Pong Championships

If you’ve ever been “lucky” enough to bounce between jail and the psych ward, you know what I mean by “the Great American Ping-Pong Game.” It’s like the universe took a look at your mental health and addiction issues and said, “Let’s see how many times we can make this one ricochet off the institutions before something sticks.” Spoiler: nothing ever really sticks. The ball just keeps going.

I’ve lived it. I’ve watched clients live it. I’ve sat in fluorescent-lit rooms with people who have racked up more intake assessments than traffic tickets, and I’ve seen that look in their eyes—the one that says, “Does anyone actually see me under all this paperwork?” The answer, half the time: not really.


Meet “Jake”—The Human Ping-Pong Ball

Let me introduce you to Jake (not his real name, but his story is all too real). Jake’s been in and out of the system since he was old enough to drive—hell, maybe before. He’s got a rap sheet with more pages than some people’s high school yearbooks, and a diagnosis list that reads like a pharmacy aisle: bipolar, PTSD, substance use disorder, anxiety, depression. Meth was his “go-to,” but honestly, anything to quiet the noise would do.

Jake’s first big bounce? Arrested at 19 for possession and “acting erratic” (read: full-blown mania, nobody caught it). He does a week in jail—no psych eval, just a cell and a cot. Released, no treatment, no follow-up. A month later, he’s in the ER after a suicide attempt. Now he’s in the psych ward—72 hours, a new diagnosis, a prescription, and a stack of discharge papers. No one asks about the meth. Nobody follows up on the meds.

Two weeks later, he’s back in jail for violating probation (missed a meeting; he was too depressed to get out of bed). In jail, the “treatment” is a cold turkey detox and a pamphlet about choices. When he finally gets out, he’s lost his job, his apartment, and whatever little trust he still had in the system. Rinse, repeat—over and over, for years.


Why the System Loves Its Ping-Pong Balls

You’d think after the third or fourth bounce, someone would notice the pattern. But the truth is, our systems are set up to treat symptoms, not people. Jail handles the crime. Psych wards handle the crisis. Substance use treatment handles the drugs. Each one with a different clipboard, a different intake, and a different set of rules about who’s “their problem.”

Nobody wants to admit that Jake—and the thousands like him—live at the intersection of all these things. Nobody wants to own the whole mess, because owning the mess means getting your hands dirty. It’s easier to just keep paddling the ball back and forth.


What Does It Do to a Person? (Hint: It’s Not Rehabilitation)

If you ask Jake, he’ll tell you: it’s not the jail food or the hospital gowns that break you. It’s the feeling that you’re always in the wrong place, surrounded by people who don’t really know what to do with you. In jail, you’re a “psych case.” In the psych ward, you’re “too addicted.” In outpatient, you’re “too crazy for group.” Everywhere, you’re too much of something and not enough of something else.

The effect? You stop believing in help. You stop believing in yourself. You start seeing yourself as a problem, not a person. And if you’re lucky—really lucky—you find someone, somewhere, who finally says, “Hey, maybe you need all these things at once, and maybe you deserve help anyway.”


So, What Do We Do? (Besides Burn Out or Give Up)

First, let’s call this what it is: a broken system that’s failing real people every day. If you’re a professional, you already know the feeling of trying to coordinate care between agencies that don’t talk to each other, or having to tell a client, “Sorry, we can’t help with that here.” If you’re in recovery, you know what it’s like to be bounced around like a problem nobody wants.

So where do we even start?

For Professionals:

  • Push for integrated care. That means clinics that treat mental health and addiction, under the same roof, with people trained to understand both.
  • Stop the gatekeeping. If someone’s in crisis, don’t send them away because “they’re too high” or “too sick.” Find the bridge, not the exit.
  • Advocate for better funding, more training, and fewer silos. Collaboration should be the rule, not the exception.
  • Remember the person. Jake isn’t a diagnosis or a criminal or a file number. He’s a human being, and he deserves a shot at something better.

For Clients and People in Recovery:

  • Be your own advocate, even when it’s hard. If you don’t get what you need at one place, keep asking. Keep knocking.
  • Find the places that do get it. They exist, even if they’re rare. Peer-run organizations, integrated clinics, harm reduction groups—these folks understand the ping-pong game and want to help you break out.
  • Share your story. The more we talk about this, the harder it is for the system to pretend it’s not happening. Find allies, online and off. You’re not alone, even if it feels like it.

Resources to Help Break the Cycle:


Does the World Even Know This Is a Problem?

Honestly? Most people have no idea. Unless you’ve lived it—or worked in it—the ping-pong game is invisible. The headlines focus on “overdose crisis” or “mental health epidemic” or “recidivism rates,” but nobody’s connecting the dots. Meanwhile, Jake (and so many others) are bouncing around in the background, getting bruised every time the ball changes hands.

It’s up to us—those who’ve lived it and those who see it every day—to make enough noise that the world can’t ignore it anymore.


The Ball Is in Our Court

I wish I could say there’s a magic fix, but the truth is, breaking out of the ping-pong game takes work from all sides. For professionals: fight for integrated, compassionate, person-first care. For people in recovery: keep pushing, keep sharing, keep demanding to be seen as a whole person, not just a problem to be passed around.

If you’ve ever felt like the world’s worst game of ping-pong, you’re not alone—and you’re not the ball. You’re a person, and you deserve a shot at a life that’s more than just bouncing from crisis to crisis.

Let’s make sure the next time someone asks, “Whose problem is this?” the answer is, “Ours.” Because that’s the only way we’re ever going to win this game.-Belle-

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm an Addict and I'm Not Sorry

I'm an Addict and I'm Not Sorry Let's get real for a second. If you're reading this, chances are you or someone you love has been through the wringer of addiction. And if that's the case, you know that the worst part isn't the withdrawals, the failed relationships, or those awful, gut-wrenching moments of clarity on the bathroom floor. It's the shame. Oh, the shame. It's like someone poured gasoline all over your soul and lit a match. Well, I'm here to tell you something: fuck the shame. No, really. Fuck it right in the ear. You don't need that kind of toxic garbage holding you back anymore. I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I'm an addict. I've done some bad shit. I've lied, I've stolen, I've woken up in strange places with even stranger people. But you know what? I'm still a person. I'm still a person who deserves to be happy, to love and be loved, to leave something better than I found it. Look, you can't change...

My Journey, My Voice: Sharing My Truth About Addiction and Recovery

  My Journey, My Voice: Sharing My Truth About Addiction and Recovery I'm a wife, a mom, a sister, a daughter, a coworker, a friend, an auntie – and I'm in recovery. I'm also a substance abuse counselor, which means I've seen the journey of addiction and recovery from both sides. My blog is my way of sharing my unique perspective, my struggles, and my triumphs. It's about being real, breaking down stigma, and connecting with others who understand this challenging, rewarding path. Recovery isn't easy. Some days, it feels like an uphill battle. I've been the "loser," the one who felt uncool, unworthy. Self-doubt and abandonment issues are still things I work to overcome. But here's the important part: I'm not perfect, and I never will be. But I will never stop growing, either. Every time I hit publish on a blog post, it's a victory. It's me saying, "I'm not ashamed of my story." It's me using my voice to help others ...

Ok, I am sober... Now who the Hell am I?

  Recovery: The Journey to Rediscover Ourselves Recovery is not just a word; it's a mosaic of personal stories, each tile reflecting the light of hope and resilience. As a former addict turned substance use disorder counselor, I have navigated the tumultuous seas of addiction and now anchor others as they set sail towards the shores of sobriety. Why do we seek recovery? The reasons are as varied as the individuals asking themselves this profound question. For some, it is the pursuit of health, for others, the mending of relationships torn asunder by the tempest of dependency. We embark on this journey because something precious has been lost to us – peace, self-worth, or perhaps the very essence of who we are. At its core, recovery is about discovery. It's a quest to reclaim what was taken from us and to unearth the treasures we've always held within. It's not just about abstaining from a substance; it's about embracing life in its fullest expression. It's ab...