OUTCRY
Conference Report:
Part One - The 'Daft' Mental Health Bill?
Rachel
Studley
Hi, my name is Rachel. I’m not a part of
No Force, and until the run up to this conference I hadn’t
been involved with any kind of campaign. I’d like to spend
a little time speaking to you about my experiences of the mental
health services and how I think ‘The Bill’ will affect
them.
Ok, a bit about me. I’m a 25 year old service
user from Leicestershire. I run a mental health website (MadNOTBad)
and have been in the mental health services for about 5 or 6 years.
In that time I’ve been given a surprising number of diagnoses,
ranging from depression, schizophrenia and anxiety to borderline
personality disorder, psychotic illness, hypomania, and the current
gem – schizoaffective disorder. They really don’t
know what’s going on in my own head and they probably don’t
know what’s going on in their own [audience laughter]
I first met with the services whist at university.
I was going mad, having big mood swings and was deep in paranoia.
They didn’t really get that I was becoming really ill, so
I saw a doctor every now and again – but got no real tangible
support. After dropping out things got so much worse and my family
decided that enough was enough – and dragged me back to
Leicestershire kicking and screaming.
It was at this point that I entered psychiatry
– proper. I pinned as much hope as I had on the psychiatrist,
believing that he was the expert and would fix whatever had messed
up my brain. I was a good patient – I did what I was told.
I tried different medications, stayed in the acute ward and tried
to explain what I was feeling.
I left the ward 8 months later, but by then I
had many doubts about my treatment which, combined with some really
traumatic events, have resulted in me avoiding much of the help
that they try to give me. I’ve gone from naive trust to
jaded scepticism, in only a few easy steps. Sometimes I wonder
what it is that has made such a dramatic change possible.
Well, my experiences on the acute ward are definitely
up there at the top of the list. I’ve found that instead
of support, sanctuary and compassion I received medication, custody
and a lot of frustration. The wards are underresourced. The staff
have spent too long in a crazy system which knocks out all of
their compassion through red tape and a culture of blame. There
are little, if any, therapeutic interventions and so all it offers
is a ‘safe’ place to stay whilst I’m at my worst.
Well …. safe except for the build up of
powerlessness and frustration that rise inside of me. The lack
of control I feel touches something deep inside of me, relating
to me being abused, and I react by self harming and bouncing off
the walls. I’ve also overdosed on the ward, in fact most
of the times I’ve overdosed have been whilst I’ve
been on the ward, so the safety it offers is ok on paper, but
for me, in my experience, it’s just superficial.
So, how do I feel the changes in the Mental Health
Act will affect my mental health care?
My biggest fear is the use of compulsion –
it feels like the legislation is governed by perceived risk to
the general public and so our interests are more of an afterthought.
As long as the services are run in such a way I really can’t
see them doing much good. Those in the know will avoid them as
much as they can – the prospect of forced medication, being
sectioned in the community and other hard-line measures are likely
to break down any trust that has been built up between service
provider and user. Psychiatry will take on the role of social
control and therapeutic effects will be second place.
I take medication, a lot of medication, but the
only way the medication helps me is through my choice to take
it. I’ve decided that I need it, I know why I need it and
I’ve decided which drugs I am prepared to take. People often
don’t even know what medication they are on, or the side
effects that they produce. They are just told that they need it,
and not always why. I know people who have decided to come off
their medication and I believe there are other ways to manage
distress. People should be allowed to explore these, and take
the chance to make mistakes, that’s our basic human right!
I can’t see how this will help me, as an
individual, or any of you. My biggest gripe with the services
is that it is so difficult to get effective help when you need
it. It can feel like you’re continually body-slamming a
brick wall – you get all of the bruises but the wall itself
still stands still, unmoving. I’ve been turned away many
times on the basis that if I’m alright enough to realise
that I need help, then I’m obviously too well to really
need it. It backs me into a corner so much that I end up fighting
against everything, hurting myself and others (though not physically)
and eventually being dragged into hospital in a much worse state.
My friend Susan killed herself last year, and
this really brings it home to me how serious and crazy the lack
of support is. She had been in and out of hospital since she was
7 years old, and lived a life that really was full of torment
and distress. For the year leading up to her death we tried to
get more help for her – she even wanted admission to the
acute ward because she was that desperate. Her psychiatrist said
‘no’ and took a hard-line approach with her, offering
no help with her hallucinations and the things that were troubling
her. Well, no help but bucket loads of medication that really
didn’t do much good.
Unable to get any support from them, and after
many overdoses, she eventually succeeded in killing herself. This
makes me so angry because she was a wonderful woman who was doing
all she could to get through all the crap she’d had in her
life. Her problem wasn’t that she refused to engage with
the services, it was that the services refused to engage with
her.
Increased compulsion would have been no benefit
to Susan – her problem was the lack of supportive services
and not being taken seriously. The only thing it may have done
is prevent her from even asking for help in the first place –
the fear of losing her autonomy was a big thing for her (and for
most of us, I believe). All they would have succeeded in doing
is taking away the only chance that she had to survive.
So, in conclusion, what I believe we need in the
mental health services is a human, empathic approach. Services
that listen, and prevent tragedies by building up mutual trust.
Services that aren’t governed by fear. For me, this is the
way forward and it’s something I very strongly believe we
should fight for.
NEXT:
Part One - The 'Daft' Mental Health Bill
Diane Hackney