Meds made me struggle to function, I had to beg a nurse for psychiatric help
The recent review of Essex’s mental health services shocked the public - but writer Margot Edwards* believes the failings are symptomatic of a crisis in care across the country
It was when I was dragged out of my car by a team of police that I realised the mental health system in England was broken. My “crime” was not violence or robbery – I had told a psychiatric nurse in the local crisis team in March that I was so desperate I wanted to die, and all because of prescribed medication.
So I was not surprised to read the recent report about the deaths of 1,500 patients while under the care of NHS mental health services in Essex between 2000 and 2020. They all died in circumstances that were “unexpected, unexplained or self-inflicted”.
I can fully identify with those tragic experiences. Most days I wake up and am amazed I’m still alive after the lack of support I have received from the team of professionals who had been assigned to help me so far this year.
I’m a professional woman. When I initially reported my mental health problems to my caring GP at the beginning of the year, he referred me urgently to my local crisis team. People seemed kind at first, although it was almost impossible to see the same team member twice. Some nurses joked that the top psychiatrists often turned up very late, if it all, which struck me as worrying during a period where the number of suicides has been called “the true pandemic”.
Other help was lacking and somewhat alarming. Much of the help I received seemed to be simply box ticking – I was offered no therapy although most experts agree it’s necessary for someone in my condition.
Despite that, I remained optimistic until we discussed medication. I told the psychiatrist about the chronic vertigo I’ve long suffered with but he still put me on pills that made me even more nauseous and dizzy. I tried to persevere but when the side effects continued, I requested another drug. After my firm insistence, I was given another pill. This gave me appalling panic attacks and rage. I spent a whole weekend smashing up glasses and cutting myself. That is not typical behaviour for me – it was terrifying to have my neurochemistry altered to such an extent.
I was taken off that too and, eventually, the psychiatrist diagnosed me – unofficially, as they’re not affiliated with any neurobehavioural unit – with severe ADHD. I was prescribed atomoxetine but wasn’t warned it could cause horrific depression and suicidal ideation. Since being put on it eight weeks ago I have never been in a worse state. Every day has been a massive struggle to function and I have spent much of the time asleep as I have simply wanted to die while awake.
Despite letting the crisis team know I was suicidal and cripplingly depressed, they told me to persevere. I begged for an appointment with any psychiatrist to get me off the drug but I was refused.
One day a nurse turned on me when, in desperation, I became hysterical over the phone. She called me pathetic and stroppy, which made me feel so devoid of hope I started self-harming.
The next day, unsurprisingly, I felt even worse, so I called the team from my car. Another nurse refused to allow me to speak to the psychiatrist and said they weren’t going to deal with me any more, despite their failures over the drugs they had prescribed. I told this nurse I could no longer face being alive.
As soon as I arrived home, two cars of police officers tore up our drive behind me. My car door was wrenched open and I was dragged out. They put my hands in handcuffs, then yanked them behind my head. As someone with severe hypermobility this could have caused my shoulders to dislocate. I was in pain for days afterwards and covered in bruises.
The nurse had presumably alerted them to what I had said and I was detained under a “136” (taking someone to a place of safety so that their mental health can be assessed). I was terrified but the officers cruelly mocked me. Surely if someone is in obvious distress it makes sense to treat them with compassion?
It feels essential that the police and NHS work together to improve their treatment of people who are not dangerous but seriously ill.
I was held in a secure hospital unit while I waited for two psychiatrists and a social worker to assess me. Fortunately they decided I didn’t need sectioning. I was so relieved to be released, but doubt I’ll ever get over the trauma of the experience. I physically shook for days afterwards and now panic every time I hear a police siren.
While crisis teams across the country must vary, mine definitely failed me.
Following the Essex report, I realise I’m not alone in being made worse, rather than better, by my interactions with them. Many people in similar situations have killed themselves.
An acquaintance also visited our local crisis team feeling suicidal. She was simply given a single Valium to “calm her down”. The only other help offered was a leaflet on distracting activities such as bread-making. When her family called, desperately asking for a better solution, they were told: “We have a plan and we’re sticking to it.” The plan was the bread-making.
I’m very glad to see that the Government is examining the NHS mental health system in Essex and can only hope it will move on to others across the country. It would be criminal to allow any more of these teams to cause more damage in vulnerable patients and facilitate more suicide and suffering.
■ If you’re experiencing a mental health problem or supporting someone else, you can call SANEline on 0300 304 7000 (4.30pm–10.30pm every day) or visit sane.org.uk for more information.
*name changed at the writer’s request
‘‘ A nurse turned when I became hysterical... she called me pathetic
‘‘ I was detained for my own safety but the police cruelly mocked me