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.

stuff. Including the fucking bedsheets.

Fannyfifer I am curious with regard to your medical qualifications and experience. Are you a fan of police assault? Or having barely qualified school leavers bursting into peoples' cells when they are naked, without washing? Do you think it is pleasant to be hugged by staff who, if they were male, would be disciplined for sexual harassment? Do you begrudge a seriously (physically, not mentally) patient a pillow? Do you feel it is appropriate to force a barefoot patient into ill-fitting shoes that cause a skin infection requiring anti-biotics. Do you agree that male nurses should march into female patients' rooms and whip their bedclothes off?

Would you call a patient called Stephanie 'Steph' in spite of being repeatedly asked not to? Would you get patients with severe learning difficulties to dance to Bob the Builder like dancing bears for your enjoyment? (You could even charge the public to watch them! Would you order Chinese takeaways to share with staff after the patients have eaten sausages made of gristle? Would you borrow a patient's CD player and dance the night away whilst the patients pray to die in the night? Would you refuse a patient a sleeping tablet even when it is on their prescription?

Have you considered a career in 'mental' health nursing? You sound as though you would go far.

If you would actually read people's posts you will see I wrote that the "care" you received has been appalling.

You have not been treated well, nobody here is saying otherwise, what we are all saying is that you were sectioned for a reason, it is not easy to section someone.

Mental health services don't just roam the streets looking for victims to round up, being sectioned is a last resort.

Your posts are not the posts of someone who is mentally well. Your mental health is obviously worse now as the treatment you received after being sectioned was piss poor.

You need to get someone you trust to be your advocate, look around at your home and yourself, you are in a mess, you were in a mess previous to being sectioned whether you admit it to yourself or not.

And I got the very strong impression that the police did enjoy themselves. Why was I black and blue after being dragged down two flights of stairs. Why ratchet the handcuffs so tightly to draw blood. Why drag me by my hair into the cell in the police van? What is your definition of a sadist?

I have told you the reason that I was sectioned. Lying deceitful partner who actually drove me to doctor's appointments to collect anti-biotics. I sat in the waiting room whilst partner was in the car on the phone to the GP. Non-existent hallucinations. House a mess (very sick dog).

No one on this thread except you have mentioned dc. I thank everyone else on that thread for sparing me the worst pain of all. Fanny, stop your assumptions about other peoples' tragedies. That is all I can think of saying to you.

I'm going to bow out now, it is even more clear from your last few posts that you are really very unwell, i didn't mean to upset you but you are not making much sense to be honest.

You said previously you were forced into the police van, I don't recall you saying you were dragged by the hair.
Many other people on this thread have mentioned children.

Speak to someone you trust, honestly it's not some conspiracy against you.

They were desperate to get rid of me, esp when they found out that I had been flushing the drugs away and they kept telling me how well I was responding to them, which made them look pretty stupid. They urged me to have a tribunal and 'get off'. But I stuck my heels and insisted on getting all of my medical notes. I told them repeatedly that I would leave in a coffin or with an apology. I had to see an independent doctor after 3 months on section 3 and within minutes of that meeting I was off section.

And he was one of the ones that sectioned me. What a difference a string of pearls makes. I stuck my heels in, concentrated on learning my language and planned how much fuss to make about the cost of this fiasco when I was finally released. Except they told me that if I queried the cost or complained it would be taken as yet another symptom.

Don't fantasize about my medical past. Unless you want to get a job in mental health.

apt.rcpsych.org/content/10/6/434.full

Suicides following discharge from the hell of incarceration. What else is there to do?

not dragged by the hair down two flights of stairs. Dragged by hair into the cell into the police van.

PLEASE don't take up a career in mental health. You are a presumptive and depressing woman who has made a suicidal woman at the end of her tether feel a million times worse.

Bring back Mooncup and Springydaffs!

The psychiatrist apologised in the discharge meeting. In writing.
You decided to mention the dc, the one thing I have requested to be respected. I hope you don't have children yourself.

Daisy are you still having any medical help?

Since you called, Daisy

Unfortunately one of the problems of public forums is that some people will interpret situations they know nothing about in a way that doesn't help you. Hope you can forget about it soon.

How is your dog doing these days? Better, I hope?

Pickles, I haven't had any medical help since I had my appendix out!

I just had a really good chat with one of the crisis team. She really listened. Neither of us mentioned 'mental' health at all, apart from my deep sense of trauma following the incarceration. We focussed on the damage to the house. The good news is that mending the roof is (only!) going to cost about £6000 and she gave me addresses for the people to send the bill to. I am damned if I am going to pay it.

The slightly worse news is that if it is left much longer it is going to cost £20,000 so I really need to get that sorted out as soon as possible. The house is so old that the insurance costs a fortune. She did suggest that I explain that I had been illegally incarcerated but I absolutely refused to tell them that I had been 'mentally' ill and she accepted that that would be fraud.

She is also going to get someone to ring me at 9.15 tomorrow and take me to the nearest town to get the fraudulent DLA form copied in triplicate. Two for me and one for the MP.

She also appreciated the need to go over the terrible mistakes in my medical records. And to go over my prison diaries. The sense of being listened to is balm for the soul. Nearly everyone else in her chaos team just hangs up.

When they pay the 25% deposit, a surveyor will come round and look at the rest of the damage; floorboards, carpets, etc.

The dog is great. It has taken 3 months but she is finally realising that the sitting room is not the loo. I am still not happy for her to go out in the garden due to rats, but she is being taken out about every hour for a mini-mini walk and does a wee. (Yet another reason for being sectioned was her lack of any control over her bladder. She really does seem to be getting the hang of it now - hope I am not speaking too soon)

Yes, that little spat was very upsetting. The woman on the phone listened so wonderfully and then on mn I get someone telling me how very very unwell I am. Very upsetting indeed. Must be my 'mental' illness!

Thank you very much to all who have supported me. And I forgot to mention Boffinmum in despatches.

xx

paranoid schizophrenia
persistent delusional disorder
paranoid personality disorder
bipolar affective disorder

This was my original diagnois, based on my desperate trauma of the assault that came out of the blue. I insisted the doctors left me alone and went to bed to read a Mary Weslely book. You know the rest. I spent 3 days walking up and down the ward desperately asking for a lawyer and access to my GP.

A junior doctor/registrar, who talked to me twice made this diagnosis. On the third day I was woken at 9 and told to talk to two doctors who talked to me for 20 minutes and put me on section 3, which meant I had no right to refuse treatment (drugs). At this point I was still in the t-shirt, knickers and trousers that they had dragged me in in. I insisted on a coffee and a cigarette before I spoke to them.

The appeal was meant to be section 2 and apart from the twat registrar's report there were two other reports. One was from my named nurse who had been on leave and only chatted to me once. I kept asking her why I was there and she said that it was untidy house, self-neglect (house full of food) and phonecalls to a professional. That was all she knew and she only knew that from the social worker who sectioned me. She was very apologetic.

The next day was my appeal which was meant to be a section 2 appeal (assessment). The only other report was a social circumstances report written by someone who I have still never met or spoken to. She spoke to my mum who I haven't seen for 5 years.

The twat registrar wrote a very long report which I will find and quote. It contained 59 factual errors. I wrote to him pointing out the 59 factual errors and he didn't reply. I wrote to him again asking why he didn't reply. He has since moved on. I need help bringing in front of the GMC.

After this I was forced to take drugs. They made me feel extremely drunk and I had to hold onto walls at 8am in the morning.

After that I saw the psychiatrist once a fortnight and each time he upped my drugs. My rethink angel and I continually asked him if I could go home to check the house. This was consistently ignored.

I refused the OT jigsaws, colouring in ('keeping kids busy') making beans on toast etc and stayed in my room. They forced me to wear ill-fitting shoes that gave me an infection.

The food was foul. Most of the staff were foul. I spent all of my time trying to stay sane. Learning a language, listening to radio 4 and hiding my drugs (valium) to take before ward round so that I could keep calm.

This went on for 4 months.

I have no idea what to do with the next minute, hour, day, week, month. I just kept strong enough to reject all notions of 'mental' illness.

Since I left, and had to break into my house I have just collapsed. They now tell me there is nothing wrong with me. I am beyond devastated and I have no future at all. I cannot tell you how shit my minute by minute consciousness is.

Some posters have been so helpful and some have been so harmful that I feel like injecting heroin into my eyeballs (apart from my phobia of needles and lack of any drug contacts).

I just don't know how this can happen in a supposedly civilised country. I am bereft.

My current diagnosis is nothing at all. Perhaps all those anti-psychotic drugs that I didn't take cured me.

God help me and God help everyone in the country in any sort of hellhole like that. From my universe of one.

Hi i read your whole thread last night and i just want to say sorry to hear what happened you and hope you are keeping ok.

Hi Daisy, I've followed your thread a little and I know you hate this word but you really do need some sort of help. The way you are writing, constantly posting one post after another at odd hours, really suggests that you are not in a good place mentally. Not washing, avoiding going out at certain hours, not eating, it all isnt good . I hope you'll get the help you need, is there any chance you can speak with Rethink again?

Where are your DC Daisy? You speak of them but don't say where they are, you also mention your partner, are you still together?

Stay safe

Daisy - great news about the woman from the crisis team. That sounds really helpful and constructive. Also good that you have managed to house-train the dog!!

(swooosh - Daisy has mentioned upthread that her DP has ended the relationship and she doesn't want to talk about her DCs.)

swoooshTue 17-Jul-12 10:33:33

'Hi Daisy, I've followed your thread a little and I know you hate this word but you really do need some sort of help. The way you are writing, constantly posting one post after another at odd hours, really suggests that you are not in a good place mentally. Not washing, avoiding going out at certain hours, not eating, it all isnt good . I hope you'll get the help you need, is there any chance you can speak with Rethink again?'

Swoosh I appreciated this paragraph. I do agree that I need help, just not 'help' that involves incarceration and enforced taking of mind-altering drugs. In the helpful call to V from the crisis team we decided we had two separate problems.

1. My (not exaggerating) terror of the memory of every moment of that place, especially the threat of being pinned down and injected in my bottom with mind-altering drugs. And the cruelty and the bullying of the staff. Inmates in that place have far less rights than prisoners.

1. Remedying the extensive damage to my house. Rain poured in the roof for the four months whilst I was in there and has continued to do so for the last 3 rainy months.

I know that I keep crazy hours but that is because I am too embarassed to go out in daylight since what happened to me so publicly. It is no good saying that there is no stigma in mental illness because I do not have and have never had a mental illness. In fact there is a stigma in mental illness but there SHOULDN't be.

Of course I am not in a good place mentally. How could anyone be after that? I do find that writing helps a bit so that is why I write at odd hours and when things pop into my head.

I don't seem to be given any help at all because there is apparently nothing wrong with me. I think the staff in that place and most of the crisis and recovery team took their degrees at the University of Wonderland, with their Masters at Toad Hall. The right hand doesn't seem to know what the left hand is doing. I keep asking, 'Is anyone in charge?'. There must be someone in charge?' No satisfactory answer.

The specific help I have asked for and I feel that I need before I can even think of moving on in any way are:

1. Going through my medical notes, which I have, and which say that I have experienced hallucinations. I think this is the biggest problem which led to the (now retracted) diagnosis of schizophrenia.
2. A trained listener/counsellor to listen to me read my prison diaries. These are very very long. I have been told that I will have to pay for this. They spend money like water, eg driving 70 miles to give me 10mg of valium, when I was on leave, but they can't fork out for the listening therapy that I desperately need.

I am seeing someone for one hour on Friday and he does nothing at all.

He does have the manners to look apologetic.

I know that I must sound rambling but rambling is my therapy. When the fellow survivor came round yesterday to assess the damage to the roof (his job), I gave them a really good lunch, which I ate too. So that is a start on the eating front. I ate the left overs for supper which was, considering, a miracle.

Daisy, would it be possible to have a non therapist listen to your diaries? Just a friend, or perhaps a mnetter on skype? I wouldnt presume to be the right person to do so, but if listening would help, can you think of anyone you could ask that would not require payment to do so?

I have been thinking about you, and truly hope you find reasons to carry on, and that you can build a life after everything that has happened.

How is everything going with the house? Have you managed to get rid of the trash in the backgarden? How is your dog now?

Don't let people upset you, Daisy, its not worth it.

Hi again Daisy

I'm glad you're still posting. I too, remember the awful feeling of helplesness (sp?) inside the hospital. I'm sure they're not all like that but you and I have certainly experienced being treated like a number and not a person. They really can be soul destroying places, especially when the staff get your name wrong and ignore all requests. And the hypocritical thing is, is that when you are convinced you (general) are right and are desperately trying to TELL them something, get ANYONE to listen they completely close ranks and discard you. Which, in turn, makes you (general) distressed and extremely frustrated which they THEN put down to mental health. Like a big know -all umbrella.

I have no doubt this happened to you. I believe you didn't have any issues. Possibly (and I hope you take this as a compliment) you were/are guilty of being nothing more than an eccentric "kooky" individual and goodness knows the world needs more of us!

On a serious note, it's great you realise that currently and SOLELY based on your terrible experience, that you need some sort of help. May I ask, if someone could wave a magic wand, what would you ideally like to happen? And in what order? What would have to happen before you could lay all this to rest?

Perhaps we could, on this thread, all of us that are supporting you, we could sort through this list with you and offer help in ways that we can. Would that be something we could do?

Yes, I need to go through my medical records and get the hallucination fiction expurged. Particularly for the sake of my dc.

I have just written a 9 page letter giving the barest bones of what I have been through. I took it to the local estate agent who photocopied it x 6. I can't use the printer because it got drenched in the 7 month deluge through the roof and I don't want to be electricuted on top of everything else.

I have also bought A4 enveopes and stamps and I am going to post them all now. They include the estimate for the deluge from the roof.

I also described the damage to the door to the estate agent, He said that it would be irreplaceable but a carpenter could make a new on using the old hinges and it would cost around £1500.

If they do not pay up then I will be (reluctantly) selling my family home for £21,500 less than I could have sold it before the assault to myself and to my property. (Can't be arsed with grammar or punctuation anymore).

I am going to send those letters now before I change my mind.