Sunday, 16 July 2017

on being constrained; shooting the messenger

Recently I returned to a group that I'd not been attending for over 2 years.  I'd left because of feeling bullied by other members so it wasn't easy returning, for any of us. 

What was most interesting about going back was the recollection of what it felt like to be in that group before.  The constraints.  I felt the pain of it, having to toe the line, hadn't really considered the restrictions before, in terms of not being allowed to be myself, a free agent.  

The constraints may have occurred for safety reasons.  But it didn't work.  Because when the person who usually kept order wasn't there then there were no constraints and I was attacked.  

Express article 5Oct14
Which tells me that constraints or restraints don't "work".  

People are angry at an oppressive system and this can spill over into arguments and scapegoating, in my experience.  I've seen it often since 2008 when first getting involved in mental health matters, aged 55.  More so since having to speak out against human rights abuses in psychiatric settings, perpetrated on my family for over 50 years.

Shooting the messenger.

I'm not prepared to put up with being bullied for speaking out with an independent voice.  To be constrained and excluded.  It can result in hierarchy and some being favoured over others.  Narrow corridors.

My voice matters just as much as anyone else's.  I'm not worth less.


avoiding ECT when hospitalised in 1978 after first postpartum psychosis; then Krypton Factor 1980

Hartwoodhill Hospital, Lanarkshire, where I was inpatient 1978 & 1984

memories of peer support in the psychiatric system circa 1984


I was forcibly internally examined one week after my youngest son was born, 25Nov84, when a voluntary inpatient of Hartwoodhill psychiatric hospital, held down by 3 nurses while a black doctor (possibly locum) put gloves on and invaded my body.  My husband witnessed this.  I resisted because the birth of my son had been normal, no complications, therefore no need for an examination by a doctor in a psychiatric ward who wasn't a specialist in gynaecology, and may have damaged me.  Then they forcibly injected me with Chlorpromazine.

A few months after discharge my husband got a vasectomy, I signed the form when on Chlorpromazine, aged 32.  No more babies.  My husband didn't want to risk it again. 

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