Skip to main content

Loving a Felon: From Prison Walls to the Street Life—A Journey of 978 Days

 


- by DeAnna

I met my husband, Ryan, when I was working as a Correctional Officer in the prison where he was incarcerated. He was an addict—trying, but not succeeding, to stay clean in a system that seemed more invested in keeping people locked in their struggles than in helping them find a way out. The prison system, as crooked as a witch's finger, wasn’t doing him any favors.

I had no idea what addiction really looked like. At the time, I didn’t recognize the signs of when he was using. He was "somewhat clean," or at least that’s what I thought. It wasn’t until he came home and relapsed that I truly began to see addiction in its rawest form.

When Ryan came home, I thought we would start fresh, build the life we always dreamed of. But addiction is like a storm that never really clears. I saw it all—the street life, the highs, the lows, the withdrawals, and the relapses. I watched him battle demons I couldn’t even comprehend. I watched the man I loved go through hell, and I watched him try to claw his way out of it, time and time again.

The first time I really saw addiction for what it was, it hit me hard. I saw Ryan fall back into the habits, the lifestyle, the people, and the drugs. The man I loved—the man I had dreamed of building a future with—wasn’t the man I was seeing. And yet, there he was, fighting. Fighting for himself. Fighting for us.

I saw the withdrawals, the cold sweats, the pain. I saw him desperate to get clean, but at the mercy of a body and mind that didn’t know how to survive without the crutch of drugs. And when he relapsed, I saw the shame and the guilt. But I also saw the determination—the same determination that once helped him survive prison, the same determination that kept him trying to fight for a future.

Loving someone like him is a constant challenge, but it’s also a privilege. You see the raw, unfiltered truth of their struggle, the parts of them that no one else gets to witness. And while the pain and the heartache may threaten to tear you apart, you also see the resilience—the incredible strength that pushes them to fight another day, even when they feel like giving up.

Through all of it—the good, the bad, the heartbreaking, and the hopeful—I love him more. Every relapse, every high, every moment where I thought I couldn’t handle it anymore, only made me love him harder. I fell deeper into this love, not because it was easy, but because I saw the man underneath the addiction. I saw his heart, his soul, his dreams of a life beyond the struggle. And I realized that love isn’t just about the good times. It’s about showing up when it’s hard, when you feel like you’re drowning, and still saying, “I’m here.”

In these 978 days, I’ve watched him try to give up the life he once knew. I’ve seen him fight to stay clean, fight for the life he knows he deserves. But I’ve also seen the moments where he wondered if he’d ever be free of his past. Addiction doesn’t just vanish, and neither does the past. But we keep moving forward, together. And no matter how many times he stumbles, I’ll be right here. Loving him. Supporting him. Holding on.

So, if you’re reading this and wondering what it’s like to love someone in this struggle, let me tell you: it’s not easy. But it’s worth it. Every single day. Because through all the relapses, the pain, and the uncertainty, I know that the love we share is stronger than anything else. It has to be. And I will continue to love him harder, no matter what.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Beating You Weren’t Supposed to See: A Former AZDOC Officer Speaks Out

  Let me tell you something right now — that viral 3-minute video Fox 10 Phoenix aired last week? That wasn’t the whole story. That was just the tip of the blood-soaked iceberg. As a former Arizona Department of Corrections Officer, I know exactly what you're looking at in that video. You’re seeing the tail end of a brutal, calculated beatdown that started long before the cameras started rolling. That inmate? He’d already been dragged, pummeled, and bled out — by the time he was being chased down the entire length of the prison yard like a damn scene out of a gladiator movie. Fox 10’s report referred to it as a fight that “spilled out into the prison yard.” SPILLED OUT? Like someone knocked over a soda. No — this wasn’t some spontaneous scuffle. That man was hunted . Let’s Break Down the Bullsh*t Donna Hamm’s Comment: “The inmates are running the asylum, and that's not what the taxpayers in Arizona are paying for.” Newsflash: the inmates have always run the yard. Th...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fighting for Ryan: The Battle for His Life Inside Arizona’s Broken System

  I never thought I’d be writing this. Not like this. Not as the wife of the man I used to guard, used to protect. Not as someone on the outside screaming for help that should’ve been automatic on the inside. But here we are. I used to serve this system. Now I’m exposing it. I used to wear the uniform. Sixteen hours a day, six days a week, I walked those same yards. I protected inmates, respected them, loved them—because I knew most of them had never known compassion a day in their life. I saw their pain, their potential, their humanity. And now? Now I’m fighting like hell for the one who stole my heart behind those very walls. My husband is being failed. Deliberately. Repeatedly. Brutally. For days now— too many days —my husband has been locked down in complete isolation under what they call “observation.” No family contact. No personal belongings. No consistent monitoring. No treatment plan. What he’s getting instead? A blanket and a pill. They’re trying to medicate h...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fighting a Whole Prison System: One Wife's War for Justice

Let me tell you what it’s like to go to war—not with guns or bombs, but with phone calls, legal documents, and a heart that refuses to give up. I’m not just fighting for my husband—I’m fighting against an entire prison system built to wear people down until they give up. But I won’t. I haven’t. And I never will. My husband is incarcerated in Arizona Department of Corrections. And what started out as a mission to simply advocate for his safety has turned into a full-scale, nonstop battle with a system so corrupt, so broken, and so indifferent to human life that some days, I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. Where do I begin? Maybe with the time he was brutally attacked by another inmate and had to go into protective custody. Or when they transferred him from Red Rock to La Palma without notice, like a pawn on a chessboard. Or the multiple times his PC requests were denied, despite evidence of credible threats—and then used against him to accuse him of making false allegations. The...
Post a Comment
Read more