Judicial Hearing

Tuesday 22 November

11am

Sitting in the waiting room, with Yvonne my nurse, Roger my psychiatrist and Catherine my lawyer, I’m waiting for my turn to see the judge to put forth my Section 16 application under the Mental Health Act.  I feel like a criminal. 

When we finally enter, it’s a small room, with a judge seated at a desk and chairs lined up opposite her behind another long table.  We file in – nurse, client, lawyer, doctor apparently is the order – and sit down.  The judge introduces herself and then welcomes each of us by name.  We each get a turn to say something.

My lawyer seems pretty lost.  She’s a bumbling mess of papers and when asked to start off by describing my case she stumbles over her words and reaches for my notes.  Still, I guess I can’t complain, I’m not paying her.  That’s what legal aid gets you … sorry, I’m not trying to be ungrateful.  Anyway, I got a chance to say what I wanted (basically all the points I made yesterday) but surprise surprise – Roger’s word was taken over mine and that was that.  Adjourned.  I stay on the MH Act.

I cried silently all the way back to the hospital in the taxi.

I feel so powerless and out of control.  I feel this need to self-sabotage – to hurt myself or run away … or … something.  But I know that will just make things even worse.  Although it doesn’t feel they could get worse.  By the time we get back I lie on my bed, a bawling tear stained mess.

I’m scared Roger is going to keep me under the Act as an inpatient until two of the things he mentioned happens:

1.     I put on approximately 20 kg (no WAY)

2.     My mood improves (I’ve tried to get him to understand, this time the mood thing may be being made worse by my weight but it is not going to improve just with weight.  I was depressed before I lost weight.  Then he starts talking about ECT … fuck.

Yvonne has been great.  She is so kind and empathetic.  This afternoon once I’d had lorazepam, a good cry and lunch she took me down to the river for a shrort walk.  It made me feel alive again.  She reassured me Roger would not keep me here until I’d gained 20kg or until my mood was fantastic.  Also that as things progress, whether or not I’m on the Act (which she says really won’t be for long if I keep complying like I have been) then we will be working more in partnership and aim to invlve me more in the decisions.  But that right now, ED is too strong for that.  Which, deep down, I know is true. She also said that instead of applying for a CTO in the next few days as required, Roger is considering the option of an adjournment – a prolongued period of assessment (2-4weeks) to see what progress I can make in that time and hopefully avoid the CTO.  That sounded better. 

After the Section 16

Judicial Hearing

I want to die

Or at least to run away

I want to withdraw from everyone

To hurt myself

To starve to death

To let anorexia win

To be able to stop fighting

To be able to live without my rules

And obsessions

To stop feeling this pain

To disengage completely

To resist being looked after

To throw my food away

And tip my milk drinks down the sink;

To simply have some relief

To be able to remember what it feels like

To laugh

To smile

Without having to fake it;

To not be ashamed of myself

For every second in my head

To stop feeling like torture.

I have to be able to accept

That life is not

And will not

EVER be perfect.

Even writing those words

Makes me want to shrivel up

In a tight ball

Of hopelessness and panic.

I just want to be free,

To be able to let go of anorexia

To find a way out of the darkness of depression

To not be ‘sectioned’ like a lunatic

Under the Mental Health Act.

Roger’s words circle round in my head;

‘on the doorstep of death …

the sickest patient in the ward …

if there’s any deterioration

she will end up in Christchurch public hospital …’

I want to be able to make decisions

For myself

To see a point to life

To want to be alive

To feel peaceful

Right in the depths of my being.