Tum....te....tum

Today… well today is one of those days when I am defined by illness. I simply cannot cope. I have tried removing myself from people, tried driving, drawing, painting and pastels, no good, can’t find peace of mind. Have taken prescribed tablets, not too many, just the right prescribed amount. Am thinking of turning on telly and watching mindless crap, but can’t face the thought of wasting the day doing nothing. It is intermittently raining, so no beach and no walk. Got no money, so can’t waste day wandering around shops, and really I don’t want anything anyway. Have come up with plan to clean flat, but just remembered I did that yesterday. Thought about cleaning blinds in sitting room, but after event with rabbit and curtain pole earlier in the week, have decided against that.

I am not depressed, I have great drive and motivation to do things, and depression usually affects people’s ability to be motivated. No, not depressed.

I have tried being mindful, ie. Reminding myself that right now I am safe and that nothing harmful is going to happen, or at least nothing harmful is happening right now. Nope, that isn’t what is going on in my brain.

I am not bored, though I can’t paint, draw or do anything well today, it doesn’t really matter, I can still do it, just do it badly, and that’s not a problem, I only do it for me, it’s not like I am ever going to be a professional artist and find my livelihood depends on it. But that doesn’t seem to bring relief today.

Maybe I could write another letter of complaint to the Police about how they dealt with me when they detained me under section 136 of the Mental Health Act, but there seems little point as the last two letters have made no difference. Could compile all the information I need Oliver Colvile MP to see when I meet him next week. But have awful feeling that the meeting will be that horrid little pat on the head,’there, there dear’, and nothing will change.

Maybe I could go to Sainsburys and buy a bottle of their pink value plonk and drink that followed by vast amounts of vodka? At least then I would feel nothing.

Cutting is no longer an issue, at least not to my face. Ben, my CPNs boss, who I mentioned in yesterday s blog, came to see me. He had come up with a contract, that I wasn’t allowed to cut myself until 12.30pm of yesterday and I stuck to it. However, when he came to the flat yesterday , I mentioned to him that though I had stuck to the contract and not cut, I felt that contracts should be mutually beneficial, and that this one wasn’t. He had asked me not to use my method of dealing with my frustration and self hate, not replaced it with anything else, and in return, he had a  patient who hadn’t cut and he therefore had done a good job. He then asked me to agree to another contract. This time I had wised up to his contracts. He asked that I didn’t cut my face until after I completed a new form of therapy, DBT, psycho dynamic psychotherapy, EMDR, lobotomy, can’t remember what it was.Ha! I thought, not on your nelly mate, to satisfy this contract, I want something out of it too. I suggested a large bottle of vodka, he refused, I asked for a big box of diazepam, he refused, I asked for a balloon, he refused….. running out of ideas I asked for a t-shirt. We have now agreed, that in six months time, if I stick to my part of the contract, I will get a t-shirt which will state, ‘Bugger me, Ben was right!’. I have to say I am not sure I will wear it, but at least this time, we have almost a contract.

So, today, I am going to draw, very badly, some boats and some angels……..

Much love, peace and safety  to you all x

Letter to MP Oliver Colville and Chief Exec of Plymouth Community Healthcare

RE: Lack of Crisis Home and specialised unit for patients detained under section 136 of the Mental Health Act

Dear Sir
I write, not as a letter of complaint, but of one despair and hope. I write with honesty about me, my illness and my need for resources to be improved, not only for me, but for all other patients who have had to endure stigma, discrimination and a lack of understanding from those who have not been educated in how to manage those with mental health illness.
On the ******* I was *****. I was picked up by a Police patrol car and taken to *********  Police Station.I was naked and was given a blue paper outfit to wear At this point it was decided by the Police Officers, that I needed to be psychologically assessed to determine whether or not I was fit to consent to be forensically examined for evidence of the alleged ****. This took the whole day, being moved first to ************* Police Station, where I was told I could not be seen as I would contaminate evidence as the accused was being held in custody. I was then taken  to ********* Hospital, where I sat in a room with several Psychiatrists, a social worker, a student nurse, and two SOLO officers to determine whether or not I was competent. This took most of the day. At ten o'clock I was taken from the ward, out through the public entrance. During this time, wearing only the blue paper suit, which stank of the accused and what he had done ( I was physically sick throughout the day because of the smell), I was taken in and out of the Hospital by uniformed officers, through the public waiting area. The Officers were uniformed and I felt as those watching us walk though could only consider that I was under arrest, or in some kind of trouble with the Police. I was taken to the forensic examination room across the other side ofthe city and was intimately examined. Afterwards, though they had spent all day ascertaining that I was suffering from severe and enduring mental illness symptoms of which are self harm and alcoholism, I was dropped back to my flat where I live alone. I will not explain to you what happened next, as there is only so much you need to know about my self hate and torture, but lets just accept it wasn't nice. I should have been dropped to a crisis house. The majority of major cities have crisis houses where people like myself, who are a danger to themselves are looked after during crisis, rather than being admitted to a general psychiatric ward.
On the night of the ********I  I was visited by a Police Officer, she was there as I was not answering my phone, and someonewith a super sized ego thought I must be dead if I didn't answer his phone call, but I just wanted an evening to myself, not to talk to anyone. However, when the Officer saw the cuts to my arms and legs, she called for a Sergeant to attend. When I went outside for a cigarette, I was detained under section 136 of the Mental Health Act. I was taken to ************* Police Station. I was put into a cell, stripped of my clothing and had a scanner ran over my body. The scanner picked up metal in my hips, legs and ankle. I explained that I had had titanium implants in these areas, the surgical scars are still obvious, they they then felt it necessary to internally examine me both vaginally and rectally. I was kept in a cell for five hours. Eventually I was seen by a psychiatrist who had access to my care plan and I was allowed to leave.
People who are detained under this section of the Mental Health Act, should not be kept in a Police cell. The unit for section 136 must be reopened immediately. I understand it has been closed due to financial cut backs, but these financial cut backs may be the reason, or may already be a reason for a person taking their own lives.  My symptoms have now escalated to the point where my psychiatrist is phoning me daily, my medications have been increased, and we are looking at me having to be an inpatient at the Priory as the local psychiatric hospital would be too traumatic for me. I have no complaint with the secondary mental health team, they are second to none. I have amazing care from my psychiatrist, My CPN is brilliant and visits me at least weekly, the Gateway to Mental Health service is consistently helpful. But they cannot do their jobs effectively whilst there are these lack of resources.
I have many ideas, how we could get these resources in place, but can no longer write, it is all a bit traumatic and raw to write anymore. But I will send you my phone number, please lets make an arrangement to meet so we can discuss this further.

PS. Odd how the logo has crossed fingers, this shouldn't be about luck, it should be about human rights