You too my life from me but the wasn't enough

I have known evil. Too much.

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You too my life from me but the wasn't enough

I have known evil. Too much.

- sent from a tablet

Survivor mental health

Dear Elsie, Caroline and the rest

I experience severe psychosocial disability. The system does not work. It is abuse and a failure.

I'm a psychiatric survivor. I perceive forced psychiatric treatment is torture and this is a position the United Nations acknowledge. The Convention for the rights of people with disabilities grants equal rights and therefore eschews all forced treatment.

I reject the biomedical fallacy. Mind Freedom International, the European Network for Users and Survivors of Psychiatry and the World Network for Users and Survivors of Psychiatry acknowledge this and are made up of members and organisations who consider their forced treatment is torture and abuse. At least one study shows the PTSD effect of forced hospitalisation - for obvious reasons this sort of research is poorly funded.

Forced treatment is what creators we survivors of psychiatric abuse - this is the defining attribute of those of the us who define ourselves as survivors. It is a tyrannical system with prejudice at the core, not true medical illness.

There are those who aren't in touch with the survivor movement but reject the nefarious coercion of the mental health system. These unacknowledged survivors and those like myself have had bad experiences, experiences which force us to avoid mental healthcare - sort of like what homosexuals faced in the mid-20th century in the UK (in fact it was the early nineties that the UK demedicalised homosexuality because that's when ICD was updated to remove it. Interestingly perhaps, the diagnosis of ego dystonic homosexuality now medicalises people who should be gay.)

Avoiding mental healthcare protects us from further abuse and the suffering it causes. The cutting edge of the international disability rights movement is fighting against the trauma of forced treatment. It is as unjust now as it was a hundred years ago when single mothers were treated as mentally I'll and forcibly incarcerated.

But what can help us reduce our disability? Who can we turn to for our needs and remain safe from harm? The system is designed around those who accept contact with mental health services but if they represent abuse then there can be no contact.

Survivors are unique to psychosocial disability. We're the victims of injustice and harm. We should not have to face those who harmed and tortured us through forced treatment and other coercive methods, eg restraint. The UN Rapporteur on Torture has declared forced treatment of psychosocial disability is torture - something we survivors have know for a long time.

I don't expect you to agree with us and our experience of mental healthcare. I feel you need to acknowledge it exists. We have suffered because of the forced treatment which the biomedical model justifies but modern disability concepts do not. Foucault addresses the fallacy in his seminal work Madness and civilisation and other authors have made the same point.

What is real is not a disease. What's real is the prognosis - of which there's substantial evidence - which partially describes psychosocial disability. Survivors still need help. Just not more abuse.

Unfortunately, no one in public mental health policy is aware we survivors exist. They might recognise the evidence that there are people with psychosocial disabilities who don't stay in contact with mental health services and this set has even worse outcomes. They don't really understand it though because they don't understand what a survivor is. They don't appreciate the negative consequences - the abuse and torture - of forced treatment.

It is a wholly normal reaction to reject further harm from a system which has already harmed...but rejecting contact with NHS mental health teams leaves the individual totally unsupported.

This problem needs to be acknowledged before it can be resolved at local and national level. How can those who are forced to stay away from the mental health system to protect their liberty be served by the independent sector?

Regards

Arj Subanandan

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analyzers

Ithmetic book before her

day and generation. I have not, for the sake of being unconventional, deliberately set myself to violate all the received canons of dramatic art, as practised by the "practical dramatist," thus making a convention of unconventionality. Unconventional art is impossible, and the drama, like other arts, has its conventions. But conventions change, and new ones are evolved, as new problems in art and other things--even morality itself--come in with each new tide of the human imagination. The "well-made play" of the day before yesterday is not a canon for all time, even for the most conservative playgoer. No, what I have been trying to do is simply to write a good play. Ah yes! But what _is_ a good play? The enthusiastic critic has a ready answer: "The play that succeeds, that has a long run, that has money in it!" I accept the answer for what it is worth. This potentiality of money is, like "literature," an added grace: and it certainly, in a sense, marks the survival of the fittest. But there are other standards in the great workshop of the artist, Nature. Even the plant or play that lives but a short time may cast its seed into the soil, or imagination, of its day, and, like Banquo, beget a royal race, though not itself a king. Now, how does such a play as THE BLACK CAT differ from those we see succeeding on the stage every day? Really not so very much, after all. It merely accentuates a growing tendency in the plays of the period to get more of the stuff of life, our every-day human life, typically upon the stage; with less of the traditional theatrical-academic element. The "well-made play" has itself undergone evolution since the days when it was an aphorism that not what is said but what is done on the stage i

misname

of the wife, w

Rhaps I _do_ think too much of things--even of death. And now! (_Takes up the cup and shudders._) Who said "Poor Constance"? (_Puts it down again, and presses her hands to her ears._) There are voices in my brain--voices that burn like the flames of hell. Sleep, sleep--we must cheat the madness. (_Takes the cup, and passes_ R, _as if to go behind screen._) How awfully things look at you when you're going to die! I did not know this. There's Demeter with Undine's wreath of daisies withered on her head. My life has withered with them, since that day she made the libation. She forgot the speedwell for me. Mother! Mother! Mother! This is my libation! (_Drinks the poison, and lets the cup fall._) It is done! (_She stands a moment perfectly still._) My God! not sleep, but horror! Quick! Quick! (_Staggers behind the screen, and throws herself on the couch, where she is hidden from the audience._) Arthur! Arthur! Oh! save me! Arthur--oh! (_Moans and dies._) (_A pause, then enter Denham and Mrs. Tremaine._) Denham. Constance! I left her here on the sofa, and now--Constance! She must have gone to her room--she sometimes does. Have some tea, won't you? (_They approach the tea-table._) Mrs. Tremaine. I don't know why I have come here, I am sure. I never meant to see this place again; and yet, here I am, like the good-natured fool I always was. (_He places a chair for her by the table._) Denham. It was awfully good of you to come. That's such a strange letter for Constance to have written. She asked you to come here at once, for my sake and your own? Mrs. Tremaine. Yes. It's a mad kind of letter. (_She sits down._) Denham. I am very uneasy about her. Mrs. Tremaine. Well, what's that to me? Denham. Nothing, of course. Blanche, we have been living in hell since yesterday. Mrs. Tremaine. I daresay. I have not been in Paradise, I assure you. What are you going to do? (_Pours out some tea._) Denham. I don't know. Mrs. Tremaine. (_puts in sugar_) Will she--stay with you? Denham. What else can she do? Mrs. Tremaine. (_stirring her tea_) Then I wish you joy of the _menage_. You don't seem to have gained much by making a fool of me. Denham. You have renewed the world for me. The mere thought of you is sunshine. Here we have always been at loggerheads with life. Mrs. Tremaine. Then why--? (_Sips her tea._) Bah! Upon my word, Arthur Denham, that woman has drained you of your manhood like a vampire, made you the limp coward that you are. Denham

disease

emingly from a g

We take this journey together as equals or not at all

Sorry its taken me this long to come up something really worth saying

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