Breann’s Story

"Women feel so ashamed, moms— that they’re addicts, and women seek treatment the least. They don’t want people to know; they don’t want their employers to know; they don’t want their parents to know.”

“Breann” by Dylan Moore. Digital oils in Adobe Photoshop.

"I think you’ll find a lot of this when you’re speaking to people," Breann said frankly, as we started our conversation, "but I was an addict.”

"Women feel so ashamed, moms— and I know men do, too, but I’m not a man, so I just don’t know— that they’re addicts, and women seek treatment the least. They don’t want people to know; they don’t want their employers to know; they don’t want their parents to know. And then they end up in jail.

“Because it gets too bad and something happens: they end up dealing, they end up— A lot of women in there ended up prostituting, and that was what they were there for. Because they just didn’t have any resources out here. That they end up doing whatever they have to do to get their drugs, and it often just lands us in jail.

"You know, I was one of the lucky ones, to have a good doc, to have an education, to be raised right—right? But when I had my baby when I was 19, I had a C-section and they put me on Percocet, and that was it." Breann became addicted to the medication, and then progressed to illegal substances.

Like many people with substance use disorder, Breann kept living her life— going to work, taking care of her kids. She represents one of the faces of invisible addiction— your coworkers, neighbors and friends who use secretly, keeping it together on the surface.

But under the surface, things were slipping. Among them were the “littler” things— like keeping a valid license. Still, Breann managed to avoid any of her smaller offenses landing her in jail.

Until one snowy winter day when she was pulled over. Her license was suspended.

The court system decided not to grant her any more breaks. She was arrested and sentenced to 60 days.

By this time, Breann had actually found her way to medication assisted treatment for substance use. This can be a long and frustrating process for many people, but she had done it, and was on the road to recovery — even if some things, like her right to drive legally, were still not resolved.

Going into jail, Breann knew, would mean that her prescribed medication would be abruptly withdrawn and she would enter withdrawal. Withdrawal is a long process — far from the few days of suffering depicted in movies, withdrawal can last several weeks.

At the time, Penobscot County Jail was not widely offering medical treatment for withdrawal. Over the years, the jail has claimed it offered this treatment, only to offer it to very few incarcerated people, or have long lapses in offering treatment to anyone at all.

"I didn’t wean [off treatment], I didn’t have time," said Breann. "So I just went in knowing I was going to be sick. And I was severely ill for about half of the sentence; for 3-4 weeks I was very ill. So that’s why when I saw this [project], it really spoke to me because I went through some things in there that no human being should ever have to go through."

During her stay in Penobscot County Jail, Breann was incredibly ill from withdrawal— a situation that can be life-threatening. She was also still recovering from a C-section, and the physical and mental stress of jail contributed to an infection. Though she constantly asked for help, she was never treated for the infection during her entire stay— having to wait until she was actually discharged to get care.

Today, Breann speaks out and tells her story to fight for the dignity and humanity of incarcerated women.