I got a ticket today. I received it for âdisregarding posted traffic signs.â In other words: I made a u-turn where I wasnât supposed to. Another tidbit about my life right now: I am not doing very well. I am having a bipolar episode that includes depression and psychosis. The depression just means I sit at home (a lot) and sleep, but the psychosis is a bit trickier. It means that I often donât feel safe, not at the grocery store, not at the library and sometimesâworst of allânot at home. I am having to take a great many sedatives and many baths (the warm water helps calm me down).
The ticket thing is annoying for many reasons: I didnât see the posted signs. I was in an area where Iâve driven many times and this issue has never come up before. The ticket makes it even scarier for me to go out. I thought I was safe in my car. I thought I knew what I was doing, but it turns out I was wrong. I live on disability so there is no extra money to pay for a traffic fine. (That is an understatement). Worst of all, I really, really try to obey the law. I live near Dallas, Texas and when those officers were shot down I was going up to police officers everywhere and thanking them for what they do. I respect what they do. Traffic tickets and the actions they represent are not my thing. I am careful.
My son was with me in the car when I was pulled over. After I gave all my information to the officer, he went back to his vehicle while my son and I waited in mine. I started to cry, not sobbing, mind you, but still, tears were running down my face. âMom, youâve got to keep it together,â my son said, pleadingly.
I asked for Kleenex and wiped my tears. My son had me put my sunglasses back on. What were we afraid of? The officer came back and asked my place of employment. I told him I was disabled. He stared at me for a moment. I gave him no further information as I feel my bipolar disorder to be my own business (and now yours). He had me sign the ticket, tore the offensive thing off and gave it to me.
My son was quiet. I didnât ask him, but I knew why he had been so emphatic about me holding it together. He has bipolar disorder as well, and due to his medication, his hands shake. When he gets nervous, the shaking becomes even more pronounced. Heâs had his car searched because of the shaking. Police officers seem to think he is on drugs and therefore must have some in the car. Sadly, both of us are on drugs, drugs we will never be able to stop, but I donât think we should be penalized for that.
They are doing their jobs. I was taking a beverage to my daughter while she workedâsomething I will be too afraid to ever do again, no matter what the route. We were all just going about our day. I broke a law. I didnât mean to, but that isnât the way the law works. I donât know what I was expecting when he pulled me overâsome understanding? A free pass? The proverbial âGet Out of Jail Freeâ card. If onlyâŚ
Hereâs what I think about the ticket. It is expensive and I will pay it. I broke the law so I will pay the fine, but I wish the law were a little bit more human. Over a year ago, I was called for jury duty. It was my first time so I was actually kind of excited. The case was about a man who was addicted to drugs and had been caught for the third time with them in his possession. He was looking at a long, hard time in prison. The lawyers asked us if we could sentence this man to the maximum time the law allowed for his offense. When they got to me, I had to say no. in my minor opinion, I donât think jail is going to solve an addiction problem. I donât know what will, but I know locking someone away forever wonât help him and I thought that was what our system was about: rehabilitation.
When I said no, that was the end of my time on that panel. I hung around outside to see what would happen. they made a deal. It seems when the man realized there were, indeed, twelve men and women who would sentence him to the maximum, he felt a deal was the best he could do. I wish I could say I felt the same way. A deal containing extended amounts of time in prison for addiction shouldnât be the best we can do. Treatment should be the best we can do.
So, I will drive even more carefully from now onâright now, I may not drive at all for a while, and the man is locked away, surrounded by the drugs he so desperately needs to stay away from (from my understanding). Iâm a little angry at the law (even though I got what I deserved). My son is terrified of the law because of his meds. And the man is locked away, no longer our problem, except for our taxes, I guess. We might want to keep all this in mind. And, donât worry, Iâm paying my ticket, ASAP.