My Recent Admission

I don’t normally blog about myself with updates of my current situation but this feels important. It feels important to say it all now although I am very tired so please bear with.

For weeks I had been explaining my situation to my mental health team, they were aware I had stopped taking my medication due to the sickness and knew that the thoughts of suicide were getting worse and worst whilst my body felt totally drained of energy They knew all of this but did not step in or offer solutions when I was feeling so very stuck.

On Thursday night things hit a bad point. I had been up the hospital for an emergency assessment that day in which the outcome was no different to the ‘care’ plan all along. I phoned up the man who said he was my point of contact on the way to go to harm myself and he suggested listening to music, I was way past that point then and explained this to which I was told that it was my choice and I could just walk home. Anyone who has been in that serious actively suicidal frame of mind must understand how it takes a lot more (often someone else) to help you out of that crisis. I was expected just to turn around, go home and sit there like nothing happened.

I couldn’t.

I managed to convince the member of staff to give me some medication to help me, he then drove me home agreeing to see me in the morning.

After a horrendous night, a night which my mental health team didn’t give me the opportunity to talk about, I walked into the meeting with a piece of paper in my hand. I was hoping to talk, I needed to talk but instead I was just given a prescription and expected to leave. Still at crisis point I burst into tears and sat there with my head on the desk sobbing only for that member of staff to say, “Claire, can you leave please, you are blocking the room for other people” and so I left and went into the toilets to compose myself and was told “Claire can you leave please, we need both cubicles”. Not only did I feel suicidal, I felt like a waste of time and space too. I was embarrassed and ashamed and it all ended when the police got involved after I contacted a helpline.

The police were friendly, polite, understanding and even more importantly they actually wanted to understand. It’s a shame not all mental health professionals are like that.

I was admitted to the ward and it’s all been a bit of a blur, I don’t remember a lot of it which worries me. Maybe it’s because I was stressed. I did notice that some of the care was appalling. For example yesterday I asked to leave the ward for a family thing and was placed on a Section 5 (4)…today I was discharged home to an empty house. It makes no sense. I have more than one diagnosis but to them I only have anorexia, how am I meant to get well with a team that fails to recognise the other illnesses that were diagnosed back in my home town. How are they ever meant to support me with crisis situations and medication if they do not understand my presentation? It’s like my dad breaking his leg and them refusing to notice his Crohn’s disease and therefore not medicating it during his stay-it wouldn’t happen. I can have more than one mental illness and I can have mental illness as well as physical illness. I feel like this is often forgotten.

I am not being negative towards the whole service, there were a couple of very helpful nurses and I know some people were doing their best but I feel very let down, very alone and definitely untrusting of my mental health team. I do feel it is very important to speak out when things are wrong, if nobody speaks out then how can anything change?