Born Addicted: A Prisoner’s Journey Through Addiction, Incarceration, and Recovery

Born with addiction to drugs and raised in chaos, Valerie Baker’s story is a raw and powerful account of surviving addiction, mental illness, and the brutal realities of life inside the California prison system.

Both of my parents were heroin-addicted hippies. I was born in April 1983, my small infant body withdrawing from heroin. I was a drug baby! My system tested positive for every drug under the sun, which included alcohol, heroin, meth, marijuana, LSD, and tobacco.

Born With Addiction: A Traumatic Start to Life

The doctors said it was a miracle I wasn’t severely retarded, with all the substances that were in my system. I was a perfectly healthy eight pounds, 11 ounces.

At 13 years old, I was a full-blown meth monster! I’ve done everything under the sun to feed my addiction. I’ve done everything I said I wouldn’t do. I lied, stole from my family, sold my body, stole car rings, committed fraud—even sold my soul to the devil!

I began my criminal lifestyle at the tender age of 18. I chose to go down the wrong path, but my drug addiction had everything to do with the criminal activities I engaged in.

Addiction Took Hold Early

I’m 31 years old and I have been in prison all my adult life. I am currently serving 32 months for battery on an officer with injury. This is my sixth term [prison sentence]. I have been in and out of prison since the age of 20 years old. I think I’ve been in prison 17 times.

I grew up in the system. California DOC and the State of California have raised me. As hard as I tried not to be institutionalized, I am. I struggle with severe OCD. I’m very militant.

In prison, if you’re not nice, neat, tidy, and clean, you become a bull’s eye for bullies. If you exhibit weakness of any kind, you’re labeled a punk or a bitch. Luckily for me, my dream in life was to be a professional boxer. I’m still undefeated!

Prison is a hostile, negative environment. It’s either sink or swim, eat or be eaten. It’s important to be able to adapt to your surroundings. It’s mandatory to observe all the different types of styles how people live, especially in such confined quarters. We live eight grown women to one small room, two sinks, two mirrors, one shower, and one toilet. So it’s vital to learn and master the dynamics, how to operate in such a small living area.

Navigating the Harsh Reality of Prison Life

I’ve mastered all the tricks of the trade in prison life. I’m glad I was raised with proper hygiene, education, manners, and morals. A lot of these women are like children. Either they don’t know any better or they just don’t care. Many women get beat up a lot.

But it beats solitary confinement. I experienced solitary for five months because I couldn’t play nice with others. I was being defiant and could not, would not comply with the rules. If you get three or more 115’s (disciplinary write-ups), all your privileges are taken away, including canteen, phone usage, packages, recreation time/yard. Solitary is living in a small cage. There’s a toilet connected to the water faucet, and a bunk. You’re locked in 22-23 hours a day. That was too intense! It drove me bonkers! And the mental health services they offer here suck. These doctors are total quacks! All they want to do is highly medicate you. Walking around like a zombie, literally doing the thorazine shuffle. It’s what we call overmedicated inmates. I suffer from bipolar disorder and manic depression, but I choose to deal with my mental issues in other ways such as writing, meditation, and prayer.

Mental Health Struggles and the Failures of Prison Care

This place reminds me of Groundhog Day, a never-ending nightmare for the past 12 years. I’ve been on the same CDC # for 12 years straight. I’ve been on parole since 2004. My last two terms were due to meth-induced psychosis. My brain can’t handle the meth anymore. I malfunction and get highly paranoid and extremely delusional.

In this case, I caught it in the San Diego County Jail. I was only serving a minor parole violation and was scheduled to be released, when I slipped into a psychotic episode. So I was never released. I was up for four days. I believed I was a demon trapped in a government warehouse. I had an out-of-body experience. I was tasered six times and was rushed out via ambulance to UCSD Hospital, where I was unconscious for approximately 12 hours. I was denied medical attention and was transported back to the facility.

Meth-Induced Psychosis and a Broken Justice System

I believe my constitutional rights were violated. But I’m a convicted felon, so no one believes me when I say those deputies in the county jail were corrupt. They were allowing protective custody inmates [a form of solitary confinement] to bring drugs inside the jail. I tried to submit a lawsuit against the officers for excessive use of force, but I presented the claim too late. It’s all on file–they videotaped it. 12 officers assaulting me. But I was the assailant. Honestly, the truth is fuzzy in my mind.

I believe prison is a cruel and unusual punishment for those with drug addiction in prison such as myself. I was never a violent offender. My offenses were always serious nonviolent offenses. But in my last two cases, I was in a meth-induced, psychotic, violent episode—painting the picture of me being a monster. I wasn’t in my normal state of mind. But due to my extensive criminal history, my addiction was disregarded. The impact on my family has totally destroyed my family life.

My biological grandmother, who is my adoptive mother, has been the only one to love me unconditionally. She has financially supported me every single prison trip. She doesn’t, however, trust me or believe anything I say. But thank God she hasn’t completely turned her back on me.

Finding Hope: Graduation and a New Purpose

Today I graduated and successfully completed the drug program here. 150 days of treatment. I am scheduled to be released in March 2025. When I get out, I’m planning to get my certification in drug and alcohol counseling. But I’d like to target younger adolescents so I can help prevent the lifestyle I led, which ultimately only leads to jails, institutions, and death. In the hopes that the children of the future have a future.

If you’d like to read more, check out Finding Yourself in Recovery in Prison