I have been sectioned.

[lazyhazydaisy]

I have just got access to the internet. I am much less petrified than I was at first but definitely 0 out of ten. I have a tribunal and if that fails I think I will be here until July. I feel as though I am living in a nightmare. I have never felt so alone.

She said that if I was not coping (how can anyone cope after that?) I would be taken back in. No I won't. I will end my life. No matter what the afterlife is it can't be as bad and degrading and dehumanising as that. FOUR MONTHS.

Sweetheart.

You are on here obviously crying for help, and we are listening. This can all get better without you having to top yourself. Just give us a list of what you need, we will make it happen for you, and then the nightmare will start to recede.

I am going to ring the crisis team. They are the ones who essentially drag you back in a drug you into a stupor but I have no one else to turn to. The recovery team said that there is a 6 months waiting list for counselling. If they do that I will get Arthur to bring in my 900mg of valium and put myself out of my misery.

I know you're in pain but it might be the best thing if you feel desperate. At least you will be safe and warm. I wish there was more I could say to you. If there's is anything I can do I would be happy to. Take care of yourself.

It does sound like you have quite acute needs here, on a very basic level (namely food, warmth, that kind of thing).

I would honestly throw myself under a train if I thought that going to Alcatraz was an option.

I fear death anymore. That is why I have ordered the 900mg of valium as Plan B.

I know that it probably seems impossible to see anybody but being alone with your thoughts is going to drive you deeper down. Is there anybody at all that you can just text or email to come around. Some mumnetters have offered their help. You need to take it. You are worth it. Every person needs warmth, shelter and food and drink to survive. It sounds like you don't even have those things in place. If the basics are in place the other huge issues can then be dealt with. One moment at a time. I'm sure there is someone on this forum nearby who will not judge and will care and listen. If I was in the uk I could come and sit with you but my words will have to do.

I am very grateful but I would not go anywhere near anywhere in this area. And nor would you if you had been imprisoned and terrorised and still living under the threat of terror. If you had been through this you would understand.

If anyone works in a place like this then please blow the whistle. The staff are appalling and cruel and are threatening to take me back in. The sooner the house is sold the better.

I have no quality of life and I only want a pauper's funeral. That is what those bastards do. They destroy humanity and suicide is the only answer to living with the memories.

I am not dreading it. I have compiled a compilation of music. It won't hurt and I certainly won't have any regrets. I just need to get the paperwork done for the dcs and for the MP. Two weeks was my limit.

On the other hand, if I hear the words 'Care and Treatment' I will stick my head through a window.

I'm saying somebody come to you. Not you go anywhere. Not a " health professional" just a person to sit with.

Difficult when I can't go out of the (wrecked) front door. I am taking the dog for her walk in one minute, the safe time when no-one will be around. Then I will go back to bed and dream of that hellhole.

At least I have the freedom to go outside without an escort into the courtyard. Small mercies.

And I am no longer forced to take god knows what drugs.
I know that I will never work again.
At least I have a house to sell.
I don't think I will see the dc again. 'God only knows what they have been told. I am trying to decide which country to move to. Perhaps Italy?
I am giving £2000 to the person who is taking care of the dog when I sell the house. I don't anticipate returning to this country. I cannot live in a country where the police assault innocent people. Nor where vulnerable people are abused behind closed/locked doors.

Does anyone know what 800mg pd of quetiapine does to the body of an 8 stone woman? Is there somewhere on mn where I can find out? The cruelty and brutality of the staff gives me living and waking nightmares.

I may try Syria. At least I would be less shocked there.

Walked the dog. Just have to stay awake now as long as possible in order to sleep all day. I am in such a state of shock that I haven't even organised a Tesco delivery, which I must do because I am barely eating at all; have nearly finished the contents of the freezer.

I have had one bath since I left. At Miranda's house. I don't think that Miranda will last much longer. All she wants to do is die. Still no washing machine. I managed to pull the filter out but it still doesn't drain. I can't ring British Gas because I can't face humans.

The thought of returning to that hellhole fills me with constant dread. I am running out of words to describe the dread. Arthur will not even leave his village because he is so scared of what they will do to him.

Another survivor, Gennifer, has a plan to hang herself from a tree in her garden. She too is worried about her pets when she is gone. The other two with whom I am in touch are back in Alcatraz and off their heads on drugs (pharmaceutical ones, God help them, I can't).

The chaos team say that if I can't cope (none of us can) then we will have to go back in. It is a never ending spiral of misery. At least Tracey has smuggled some street heroin in to take her mind off things.

I kept copious notes when I was in there but haven't the mental energy to keep it up after I was released. I am running out of money because the only way I can shop is to get a taxi and I am very rural here.

When I was out on 'leave', the chaos team came every day to bring me seroquel and to make sure I took it. I made them drive me to a layby out of the village as a condition of this process and I made it quite clear that they would not be allowed anywhere near my house or over my threshold. This was taken as non-compliance, even though it was put in writing before I agreed to it.

As a result, it was agreed that I had to return to hospital, much to the astonishment of the ward staff, who had not expected to see me again. Such is the complete lack of communication between departments. I dearly wish that Alan Sugar was put in charge of the whole system.

One evening, two of the drips turned up to give me my drugs and hadn't even bought them with them, thinking that I had them. They had to do a 70 mile round trip to get them. Each of these round trips cost £500 at least and they can't even find the money to give me extensive counselling about the whole horrific experience.

My lawyers cost an absolute fortune at £500 ph. And the country's finances are going down the pan.

Who ever said that if I went back in I would be at least warm and fed, well, I would rather sleep in a bus stop than face the extreme bullying and cruelty, not to mention the fear of being stabbed with scissors and forced drug taking than set foot in there.

Two people on this thread understand what I have gone through. I have no hope at all and I just hope that this life ends soon. This is too much for anyone to bear. I don't take drugs but if I did I would be injecting heroin into my eyeballs just to get a few moments of relief.

For the third time, I think, I cannot face anyone local, let alone a well-meaning mumsnetter. I have faced enough patronisation for a lifetime. If any mumsnetter wants to help then I suggest they do not bitch at the schoolgates. The last thing I could face would be local do-gooders thinking that they are helping whilst pitying me. I do not want sympathy. Why not write to your local MP and ask him to question how many vulnerable people are assaulted by the police, dragged out of their houses in barefeet and locked up with no explanation. And then forced to take dangerous drugs that turn them into zombies. And perhaps suggest euthanasia as a humane option.

And raise money to send their children to private boarding schools at the other end of the country to avoid the stigma of what my children will have to live with.

And avoid, above everything else, any sort of involvement with any sort of mental health 'services'. Once you are in that system you are well and truly fucked. On my notes it say three times,m 'When Daisy relapses'. I have never had any mental illness but to say this just fills them with glee at the prospect of another income stream.

And avoid the Samaritans like the plague. They are brainwashed into advising contacting the 'mental' 'health' 'team'. I think it makes them feel that they are doing something helpful. It may help them but it is all just getting vulnerable people on the magic roundabout/revolving door. Please pray for Miranda. I don't think that either she or Gennifer are going to last much longer. When they die it will be put down to 'mental' illness. Caused by the horror of Alcatraz. Not many survive that, and if they do, they don't work again and their quality of life is nil. I am just catching up with them.

I have rung the recovery team 4 times and each time they have hung up. I have rung the emergency number for the Crisis team and ditto.

The reason (from my medical notes) for my sectioning were:
a) self-neglect (my house was so full of food that the stench when we broke in was over-whelming
b) house in a mess (you should see it now; I have spoken to virtually no one since I was released 3 months ago and I see no point.
c) phonecalls to a professional. Which is what I have been doing today.

I am paralysed with terror of going back to that place. Paralysed. And paralysed with terror of being pumped full of drugs.

My suicide plan is both painless and flawless. I just need to find the strength to put my paperwork in order.

Oh Daisy! How rubbish of them. And what a bitter irony that the only people who might be able to help you are linked to those who harmed you in the first place.

It does seem a dreadful shame to prove them right by killing yourself, though. Selling the house and going to Italy sounds like a much better plan. It might even be sunny there - I can't believe that this weather is doing any good for your mood (or your roof).

Her only suggestion was that I get a private therapist, paid for by myself.

I have no idea what to think. I am appalled. Flabbergasted and appalled.

I will have to find the energy to write it down for my MP and for my lawyer but I have four months of typing to do. I cannot possibly afford a therapist. Even the most brilliant therapist in the world cannot pick up the pieces after this.

They are the most callous people I have ever come across and I have extremely dark thoughts about them.

Speechless.

Off for my 5am walk. Dreading the nights drawing in!