This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.
You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jun/01/suicidal-detained-safety-mental-health-therapy
The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.
Previous version
1
Next version
| Version 0 | Version 1 |
|---|---|
| Suicidal and detained for my own safety, I saw the mental health system failing | Suicidal and detained for my own safety, I saw the mental health system failing |
| (3 months later) | |
| I was detained under section 136 of the Mental Health Act. Campus security at my university had called the police when I expressed an intent to harm myself at a bar. As I was put in the back of the police car, I felt a mixture of shame at being treated like a common criminal, as though I’d done something wrong, and relief. | I was detained under section 136 of the Mental Health Act. Campus security at my university had called the police when I expressed an intent to harm myself at a bar. As I was put in the back of the police car, I felt a mixture of shame at being treated like a common criminal, as though I’d done something wrong, and relief. |
| Now I didn’t have to bear the weight of my monochrome, depressed world and my fate was out of my hands. I was being taken to somewhere where I would receive treatment, they said. I was terrified. We arrived at suite 136, and I was detained pending an assessment. | Now I didn’t have to bear the weight of my monochrome, depressed world and my fate was out of my hands. I was being taken to somewhere where I would receive treatment, they said. I was terrified. We arrived at suite 136, and I was detained pending an assessment. |
| I was led into a room with four white walls, a bathroom, a chair, a bed and a camera that followed my every movement. Once the officers had left, it was made clear that I couldn’t leave the suite until I had been assessed. Nobody had mentioned this to me and I felt betrayed. I was livid. The nurses spoke to me, if at all, only reluctantly. My belongings were taken away, swiftly and without question. When I asked for my phone, the staff said that I couldn’t have it because it had a lens. I asked them to justify the reason. I got no response. | I was led into a room with four white walls, a bathroom, a chair, a bed and a camera that followed my every movement. Once the officers had left, it was made clear that I couldn’t leave the suite until I had been assessed. Nobody had mentioned this to me and I felt betrayed. I was livid. The nurses spoke to me, if at all, only reluctantly. My belongings were taken away, swiftly and without question. When I asked for my phone, the staff said that I couldn’t have it because it had a lens. I asked them to justify the reason. I got no response. |
| When I was talking to the morning staff they told me that I should’ve had my phone, that there was no reason for me not to have had it. Great, I thought: I’m in the charge of these people. There was nothing to do, and there was no time line for when I would be assessed, as only two psychiatrists were working in the county at the weekend. | When I was talking to the morning staff they told me that I should’ve had my phone, that there was no reason for me not to have had it. Great, I thought: I’m in the charge of these people. There was nothing to do, and there was no time line for when I would be assessed, as only two psychiatrists were working in the county at the weekend. |
| After a few days of virtually complete isolation (always a good thing for a depressive), the time for my assessment came, and I was told that I should go into hospital. But the decision was ultimately up to me – I wasn’t being sectioned. I knew that these people I’d never met before were right. I said yes. | After a few days of virtually complete isolation (always a good thing for a depressive), the time for my assessment came, and I was told that I should go into hospital. But the decision was ultimately up to me – I wasn’t being sectioned. I knew that these people I’d never met before were right. I said yes. |
| Each conversation about mental health is a hand extended to someone who may otherwise feel isolated and alone | Each conversation about mental health is a hand extended to someone who may otherwise feel isolated and alone |
| It couldn’t be said where I’d end up, as there was a bed shortage and no beds were available in my area. I could end up anywhere in England, and I was scared. | It couldn’t be said where I’d end up, as there was a bed shortage and no beds were available in my area. I could end up anywhere in England, and I was scared. |
| After hours of searching for a bed, one had been found, in Brighton, a few hours away. The staff told me the name of the hospital and I Googled it. It looked good, but I was suspicious. Yet I still felt relief. I would no longer be under detainment. | After hours of searching for a bed, one had been found, in Brighton, a few hours away. The staff told me the name of the hospital and I Googled it. It looked good, but I was suspicious. Yet I still felt relief. I would no longer be under detainment. |
| I arrived after midnight. I was given a tour and a tea, and I went to bed. I detoxed, and remember nothing of my first week there. Our timetable consisted of cognitive behavioural therapy sessions, tai chi and, occasionally, yoga. I saw my consultant once or twice a week. We switched medications innumerable times, and I still felt depressed and actively suicidal. After weeks of different medication cocktails, apathy, and occasional suicidal feelings, my outlook got more positive, but often only fleetingly – and very, very slowly. | I arrived after midnight. I was given a tour and a tea, and I went to bed. I detoxed, and remember nothing of my first week there. Our timetable consisted of cognitive behavioural therapy sessions, tai chi and, occasionally, yoga. I saw my consultant once or twice a week. We switched medications innumerable times, and I still felt depressed and actively suicidal. After weeks of different medication cocktails, apathy, and occasional suicidal feelings, my outlook got more positive, but often only fleetingly – and very, very slowly. |
| After a month, I’d all but forgotten about the idea of being recalled to my area. One evening, though, the time had come. With the treatment unfinished and the medication still being altered, I was being recalled. The NHS transport would be there within an hour. I had an hour to say goodbye to the people who had become more like family to me. Crying and hysterical, I reluctantly left. I was now patient B14A. | After a month, I’d all but forgotten about the idea of being recalled to my area. One evening, though, the time had come. With the treatment unfinished and the medication still being altered, I was being recalled. The NHS transport would be there within an hour. I had an hour to say goodbye to the people who had become more like family to me. Crying and hysterical, I reluctantly left. I was now patient B14A. |
| If I hadn’t done a majority of my recovery in the previous hospital, I never would have recovered in this new environment. You had to be on your guard all the time, due to the violent and volatile nature of the ward. You can’t get well if you can’t even relax. This was a concern voiced to me by many patients who were under section. How am I supposed to get well with all this going on? I understood what they meant. | If I hadn’t done a majority of my recovery in the previous hospital, I never would have recovered in this new environment. You had to be on your guard all the time, due to the violent and volatile nature of the ward. You can’t get well if you can’t even relax. This was a concern voiced to me by many patients who were under section. How am I supposed to get well with all this going on? I understood what they meant. |
| When I imagined life from the sectioned patient’s point of view, I ached. It seemed as though they were trapped in an Orwellian nightmare. A nightmare of bureaucracy and tribunals, where they had little to no power. A world where whether they would be given leave or not was decided by a consultant who rarely appeared; and if they did, they did so unannounced. Their lives were seemingly made up of two-steps-forward-and-one-step-back procedures. | When I imagined life from the sectioned patient’s point of view, I ached. It seemed as though they were trapped in an Orwellian nightmare. A nightmare of bureaucracy and tribunals, where they had little to no power. A world where whether they would be given leave or not was decided by a consultant who rarely appeared; and if they did, they did so unannounced. Their lives were seemingly made up of two-steps-forward-and-one-step-back procedures. |
| The system is failing young people and spitting them out as though they’re cannon fodder. People are being told to wait three months or more for therapy yet cannot get through the day. Child and adolescent mental health services are overstretched and underperforming. Psychiatric services are continually being cut. This isn’t a case of just statistics; this is affecting people, first and foremost. More must be done. What would I rather happen, I hear you ask. The answer is I’m not sure. But more must be done. | The system is failing young people and spitting them out as though they’re cannon fodder. People are being told to wait three months or more for therapy yet cannot get through the day. Child and adolescent mental health services are overstretched and underperforming. Psychiatric services are continually being cut. This isn’t a case of just statistics; this is affecting people, first and foremost. More must be done. What would I rather happen, I hear you ask. The answer is I’m not sure. But more must be done. |
| I was discharged on 29 March. My illness was no longer severe enough for me to be in hospital, and discharge was being seriously spoken of before I was transferred. The staff and I made sure that certain precautions were made in case my mood did decline, such as having the crisis team’s phone number, and making a follow-up appointment with my GP. | I was discharged on 29 March. My illness was no longer severe enough for me to be in hospital, and discharge was being seriously spoken of before I was transferred. The staff and I made sure that certain precautions were made in case my mood did decline, such as having the crisis team’s phone number, and making a follow-up appointment with my GP. |
| The weekend before I was due to be discharged I had weekend leave, and I felt positive. All I had to do was be assessed before my discharge, and then I would be free. | The weekend before I was due to be discharged I had weekend leave, and I felt positive. All I had to do was be assessed before my discharge, and then I would be free. |
| I arrived at the hospital, walking around the grounds with an uneasy familiarity. The agonising wait for my assessment to determine whether I could be discharged began. Hours passed. Finally, in the afternoon, my time came. My consultant gave the all-clear, and I could go home. I was overjoyed but also anxious. After all, I hadn’t been in the “real” world for some time and I wasn’t sure I was ready for its pressures. The hospital called me a taxi, and with a mixture of trepidation and joy, I was able to say to the driver “take me home”. | I arrived at the hospital, walking around the grounds with an uneasy familiarity. The agonising wait for my assessment to determine whether I could be discharged began. Hours passed. Finally, in the afternoon, my time came. My consultant gave the all-clear, and I could go home. I was overjoyed but also anxious. After all, I hadn’t been in the “real” world for some time and I wasn’t sure I was ready for its pressures. The hospital called me a taxi, and with a mixture of trepidation and joy, I was able to say to the driver “take me home”. |
| I divide my life into pre-hospital and post-hospital – my admission was a liminal moment for me and will remain so for the foreseeable future. To be clear, I’m not cured of my depression; I merely manage it – enough to get out of bed, have a shower, and work. I can live a relatively normal life. I still have bad days but they’re nowhere near as bad as they were before my admission. And, slowly but surely, each time colour begins to seep back into my monochrome world. | I divide my life into pre-hospital and post-hospital – my admission was a liminal moment for me and will remain so for the foreseeable future. To be clear, I’m not cured of my depression; I merely manage it – enough to get out of bed, have a shower, and work. I can live a relatively normal life. I still have bad days but they’re nowhere near as bad as they were before my admission. And, slowly but surely, each time colour begins to seep back into my monochrome world. |
| Today I strive to start a conversation on mental health with anyone I come across. As the recently passed mental health awareness week has shown, we are capable of talking about mental health. But it’s up to us to keep that conversation going; it’s up to us to make sure the conversation stays alive and isn’t allowed to be put on the back burner. Each conversation about mental health is a hand extended to someone who may otherwise feel isolated and alone. So today start a conversation. Extend your hand and see who grabs hold. | Today I strive to start a conversation on mental health with anyone I come across. As the recently passed mental health awareness week has shown, we are capable of talking about mental health. But it’s up to us to keep that conversation going; it’s up to us to make sure the conversation stays alive and isn’t allowed to be put on the back burner. Each conversation about mental health is a hand extended to someone who may otherwise feel isolated and alone. So today start a conversation. Extend your hand and see who grabs hold. |
| • In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Hotlines in other countries can be found here | • In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Hotlines in other countries can be found here |
Previous version
1
Next version