After 12 weeks, 2 days I am finally free. And a bit overwhelmed by that freedom. It takes time to adjust to normal life. The hospital I was in wasn’t too bad – at least you had your own bedroom and shower. In my early days in the system it was long dormetries and fairly disgusting shared baths.
I went in voluntarily which given my subsequent treatment was a bit of a misnomer. Everytime I tried to leave I was told I would be sectioned. I had very restrictedm escorted leave. At one stage I was put on an one to one, whereby you have a nurse following you everyone. One time I escaped and when they caught up with me I was on the street. Now according to the law they can’t touch you once you are off hospital grounds. But that didn’t stop them dragging me back whilst all the time I was complaining loudly with it all falling on deaf ears. The best though was when I got out the door and about 4 staff pinned me to the ground. Now that is a definite no no. In reality the only difference between being informal and being sectioned was that if you are sectioned you have a right of appeal to the Mental Health Tribunial.
It wasn’t all negative.The staff were inthe main, very supportive. I got on particularly with two of them who very patiently listened to all my outpourings.
That’s it for the time being but there is lots more to come.
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