westid

Situation: I’ve known through the observations of others and the general charming effect I tend to have on other people, medical proffesionals, screws and quacks; that I’ve either had – or had something similar to – autism all of my life

It’s difficult to describe such a feeling, when although you know and always have known, and the day comes 3 decades later that all them pricks who were blocking you from getting any mental health support, and denied the same level of protection the police gives everyone else, were wrong. I’ve even sat in Inspire and had some top dickhead sit there and describe to me what the word psychosomatic means

Everyone I’ve confided in, who has shared their insight with me, are led by the same people saying that I have no emotions. It’s powerful to listen to someone smarm in your face as they tell you that you have to stop taking all of your medication or you will not be allowed mental health support when they know full well that you’re going through an absolute fucking crisis, indecently assaulted by a police officer who lied to the people who are worried about you that he’s going to take me to a safe place, when really it was another set-up

When you have to hold yourself back from standing up and one-bomb the fuck out of someone who claims that they’re there to help people. Well, they’re there to pick up the wage slip – because I got discharged just short of one hundred times without even being seen, spoken to, informed, or even informing someone who ought to tell you – such as your case worker, or your GP. I don’t even have a GP any more, the abuse has been going on for so long. When someone is in charge of the very service we all depend on in an emergency is abusing you, it’s one of the worst feelings in the world and it has left me damaged, probably for life. All of a sudden you are swept away and one or two people in public positions of power tell your other doctors or workers (e.g. the NHS, mental health charities, cruse, the national autistic society) that you’re on medication which stops you from being an heroin addict – and you can’t be diagnosed with anything because you have no feelings. Put yourself in my position. Would you be able to stay cool if someone was doing this shit to you, openly and in your face, as though you were not even standing there, listening to the complete opposite of what this person would have you believe when you’re sat in there on your own knowing there’s nobody to back you up and having the traumatic experience of being bullied and abused by the same people

Big Change Little Strange
Now, for several years all of the people above have actively been preventing me from getting mental health support. By mental health support, I mean two disabilities going on at the same time only – as long as I was prevented from getting a diagnosis – I could not get access to the help because I didn’t have a formal diagnosis. Even though I was hospitalised about 15 times, sectioned twice, imprisoned three times – they wouldn’t even make a referral to a volunteer who gives every Friday up to come in and help counsel people through the trauma 1111111 – in a multi-agency, differential diagnostic team, with people from law enforcement, probation service and NOMS, social services, the east lancashire mental health team, the crisis team, I was up against all of this on my own. All I asked for was some help with some grief that I’ve had but not tried to deal with for a while

Now I’ve got my diagnosis, am protected (allegedly) by The Equality Act, no longer refused my medication, newly separated from the doctor’s surgery and pharmacy team who would lie to me and hang up on my calls on a regular basis such that I was being completely denied even the shit level of care that was my only option and the only option for a lot of other people. How am I supposed to go forward? The very people that I’ve been propped up against are the same people that I have to depend on. When you’re growing up in school and people give you advice and things like that – nothing in any of that time can prepare you for being abused. I remember the first time a teacher grabbed hold of me. It just fucks your entire life up and the more everything goes wrong, the more you’re forced into the physical and emotional custody of these people. This was all a part of everyday life for me, and for most of that life I’ve gone along thinking that this kind of thing happens to everyone, but it doesn’t

What Exactly has Changed?
This morning, they gave me my ADHD medication back. I’m allowed to have the treatment for my lifelong neurodevelopmental disorder. All this time I’ve been coming apart, getting arrested, beaten up, discharged from NHS clinical referrals quietly so i piss about for a year thinking I’m just on the waiting list. Even proper doctors and nurses phoning me up, asking how the first couple of days of my treatment was- completely unaware that I had been discharged and all the help I was promised only a couple of days before was completely changed into a complete discharge

That’s not changed.

People like Inspire, The Mount, if you know these terms then I feel sympathy and solidarity with you at these ridiculous times. They do things like set up an appointment for a full investigation, forensic history, psychological trauma therapy. Then when you make an effort and get people who care about you to fuck what they’re responsible for doing off so that they can come and help you get started with the process – and when you arrive there it’s some twat who needs to get a second member of staff to sit there to hide behind because he knows he’s taking the fucking piss, saying “no, this was just a normal appointment theo” … then a week later, they accidentally sent me the edited copy of the original appointment letter to remove the help they promised in front of other people with the same date on it. Inspire fucking lie to people. They can’t keep their story straight in bed. They go behind your back and tell people like your probation worker that you’re lying and you didn’t go to a bunch of appointments that they made up

If some moronic slag actually bothered to get to know her patients instead of disappearing up the hole of Narcissus – my mum might just have believed that I made a gym appointment and disowned me forever; I would never have repaired the damage done by this so-called worker (here you go you fucking slag, a quote from you: “if i didn’t bother to come here in the morning, what do you think would happen to all these other people?”)

What’s the Point?
Nah … don’t let 2 faced workers gather all your hopes and fears, and use them against you because their job gives them responsibility over how the people they are supposed to be trying to help in their recovery, so they will want to know it all. I just tell them any old shit, whatever would make me laugh when I can just see them going round repeating what you said to everyone, because these people are so desperate about the lack of control going on in their own lives, they will envenom people like you so that nobody helps you- and they get a front row seat to watch how they get to work on fucking your life up because you signed the consent form for them to contact other people

I never planned on making this a blog about a drug addict who has just been diagnosed with autism. There are no shoulders ledging out for me. Not seen a box of tissues, or a squeezy ball, or a fidget spinner. None of us plans on anything like this – but trust me there’s plenty however who prey on it, love it, deserve everything that they fucking get

Go in peace … tell them to peace off … xoxo