I know I’m supposed to speak to a nurse before leaving the ward, the door is locked though so I just ask the nearest staff member to let me out. If they knew that my intentions were to jump into the sea and drown there is no way that they’ll let me out but I decide to try anyway. The thoughts are bad, the worst, I want to die.
“Can you open the door please?”
“You need to speak to a nurse”
“Where are you going?”
“Just out.”
A nurse comes over.
“We need to know where you’re going.”
“I can’t tell you that. Down to the river.”
“We can’t let you out then, are you having thoughts of harming yourself?”
“Yes”
“What are you going to do?”
“Jump in the sea and drown.”
“You know we can’t let you out if you are going to harm yourself. We have a duty of care”
“Please, just let me out. I NEED to do this.”
“What would you say if it was me? Would you let me out?”
“But it’s not you.”
They tell me I’m being held under the Mental Health Act, section 5(4), nurses holding power and that they can make me stay until I have seen a doctor. I beg and I plead “Just give me the keys then and I’ll let myself out.” There are a large number of staff members hovering around. I can see feet in front of me and other bodies on the periphery. I know they are talking each other and signalling but it barely registers.
They are offering me medication to calm down but I refuse. I don’t want them to drug me up just so they can have peace and quiet, plus, what are the drugs going to do anyway? I’ve made up my mind. I NEED to get out. I NEED to jump in the sea. I NEED to kill myself. There are no other options for me.
I decide to try the garden door, perhaps I can climb the fence. I’d need to move a bench or something as the fence is over six feet high and I’m not nearly tall enough or nimble enough to scale it. Damn it, in my distracted state they have locked the door. I can see a couple of patients gesturing to the staff to let them in. They are being signalled to go around the building to the female lounge door. That’s my best option now. I pace around the main ward area and into the female lounge and try the door. Locked. Damn. I leave the room and prepare to use any means I can to get myself out of the ward.
I practically collide with the nursing student as I leave the lounge. She is nice, maybe I’ll ask her. “Please let me out” I beg, choking back tears.
“I can’t do that, plus I am only a student and don’t have the key.” Liar. I can see them on her belt. I make a grab for them and manage to connect. She tries to get me off and suddenly staff appear. One of the nursing auxiliaries grabs my hand forcing me to let go and then she and the student get hands on to restrain me. They then let me go once I let go of the keys.
I try the main ward door again, still locked. Staff are still hovering, not doing anything, just quietly observing. I know they have a plan that I’m not privy to and I know deep down it does not involve letting me out.
“Let me out. Call the police let them arrest me and I’ll go to jail.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong to need the police.”
“Then let me out?!”
“Come and talk to us, what’s going on? Let’s have a walk round the ward and talk about it.”
I walk, the nurse follows by my side. I tell her I am wasting her time. That I don’t belong here. That it would be better off if I left and killed myself, at least then I wouldn’t be taking up a bed. She tells me that I am not wasting her time and she has paced round the ward many times with patients and finds it good exercise. She tries to tell me to take medication to calm me down. I refuse.
We walk round and I decide to try the door again. Still locked. The staff exchange looks, at least I think they do as my eyes never rise above anyone’s belt. Eye contact is just impossible. I am wound up, pacing like a caged animal, ready to explode. My heart is pounding in my ears, I can’t stand still and my breathing is heavy. I feel like I want to hit people or break things.
The staff can quite obviously tell that I’m beyond reasoning with and the current approach is not helping. Suddenly they are on me. One nurse on each side. Their arms linking under my upper arm and crossing over my lower arm, their arms crossed over mine. My upper arms are pressed against my sides and I am pinned, very tightly. They walk and I have no choice but to walk with them as my top half is being dragged forward. A male nurse walks behind me, pushing my back so that I am enclosed tightly on three sides. He guides me forward pushing from behind as we move along the corridor towards the PICU (Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit) ward. We go through two sets of double doors, I try to use my feet to stop them getting me through the door but I am no match for the three of them.
They usher me into the seclusion room and let go. I try to get out of the door but there are three of them in the way. They tell me that I am in a locked ward and even if I got past them I wouldn’t get out. This doesn’t stop me from trying and begging and pleading with them to let me out. I wander around the seclusion room. Tell them I want to punch things so they prop a mattress against the wall and tell me I can punch it. They tell me I can scream and shout if I need to. I desperately need to hit something, cry, scream, shout but I can’t do any of them. I am a ball of energy on the verge of exploding or more likely imploding. They hold me and make me sit on the sofa, one sat either side. They talk to me in calming tones but I have no idea what they are saying. They tell me to stay with them and focus on where I am. I can’t. I have to get out. I have to die. Damn, I need the toilet.
They show me where the seclusion room toilet is and thankfully they don’t come in with me. The toilet bowl is massive and I nearly fall in. There is no toilet seat, no toilet roll holder, to taps, nothing. There is nothing I could possibly use to harm myself.
I exit the bathroom and notice the staff members have changed when I wasn’t looking. One is sat on a chair blocking the door and two are hovering. I try to push past them to no avail. They sit me down. “Do you want a glass of water? It’s hot in here.” I initially refuse but then realise I am in fact dripping with sweat and dehydrated. I cave and accept it. My hands are shaking too much to hold the cup steady. I realise that we are in a head to head standoff that I am clearly not going to win. They offer me medication again, trying to convince me that it will help take the edge off. I accept, if only to keep them quiet.
They try to get me to focus on where I am. Tell me I’m not with them in the room. I try to listen but realise they are right. I am not in the room. Physically I am but my mind keeps flitting from negative thought to negative thought to nowhere and back again. I keep phasing out and realise I am totally out of control. We try some breathing techniques and some grounding techniques to try bring me back to the present. It is difficult and challenging and my mind is all in a muddle. We play the alphabet game – you name an animal beginning with a then b then c etc. – as they try to get me to focus. They are working really hard on helping me and have the patience of saints. I have no idea how much time has passed. I expect rather a lot.
We play the game three times before I can feel the medication kick in and everything slow down. The thoughts slow, my heart slows. They were right the medication does help a tiny bit. We sit for a while longer. They offer me some toast which I accept and say I can go back to the ward.
As we are walking to the ward I see a police officer in the hall. I am terrified. Am I being arrested? I panic again. The nurse reassures me that they are not here for me. She reminds me that I must be desperate for a cigarette, I am, and asks me to stay in the ward area for a bit so they can keep an eye on me. She tells me that if things get too much I have the option of going back to the seclusion room to sit quietly. I go for a smoke and suddenly things are much better. The thoughts are still there but the medication is working and I just don’t care about anything anymore.
I run into the student nurse and apologise to her. She tells me that I made her cry. I ask her why she cried and she tells me that she couldn’t bear to see me so distressed. This makes me feel bad. I need to start taking more consideration for the feelings of others.
P.S. The doctor didn’t section me at this point.
See Me After 