The first time I was taken to A&E, I was hallucinating very intensely. I remember telling the nurses in the ambulance as they took my blood pressure and asked me some questions that Princess Diana was my mother, as my own mother stood right by me. I didn’t recognise her.
I don’t remember much of A&E, except that I was exhausted and kept trying to sleep, but the hallucinations wouldn’t let me. I had no idea I was even in a hospital. I must have been assessed by the psychiatric liaison team at some point, and eventually they decided that I had to be sectioned (even though I didn’t realise this was happening).
Sectioning is the informal term for when someone is compulsorily detained in hospital in accordance with a provision of the Mental Health Act 1983. I had been sectioned under s. 2(2). The provisions of this state:
(2)An application for admission for assessment may be made in respect of a patient on the grounds that—
(a)he is suffering from mental disorder of a nature or degree which warrants the detention of the patient in a hospital for assessment (or for assessment followed by medical treatment) for at least a limited period; and
(b)he ought to be so detained in the interests of his own health or safety or with a view to the protection of other persons.
Given that I did not even know that I was in hospital, this was undoubtedly the right decision.
However, sectioning for me (like many others) was a traumatic experience, because I could not understand where I was or why it was happening. I would have appreciated having leaflets left for me in my room – to peruse when I was more lucid – that explained the process. But this is not currently a requirement, and so I was very confused and scared when the nurses bluntly told me I could not go outside when I asked. I was also, due to internalised stigma, very reluctant to accept that I had any form of mental illness.
Even more shockingly, when I was discharged 10 days later, this was with no diagnosis and not even any antipsychotic medication – I had fooled the doctors into thinking there was nothing wrong with me despite my family members attesting that there was. What is completely bizarre to me is that I literally could not recognise my own mother, so was this evidence of my condition on admission completely disregarded by the consultant psychiatrist?
The ensuing lack of support led to another acute psychotic episode after I was discharged from hospital, when I was finally put on medication, referred to the Early Intervention Service for Psychosis and given a diagnosis of an acute and transient psychotic disorder.
THE BORDERLINE STORIES 