I was diagnosed with a mild learning disability and atypical autism (Picture: Kelly Rainey)
I’ll never forget first walking through the front door of my very own home.
Looking around the space, I loved all the details I’d handpicked. My living room curtains were perfect. The bedding was soft and the matching pink microwave, kettle and toaster set in the kitchen looked wonderful.
‘This is all mine!’ I thought excitedly.
It was long overdue but finally, after spending 12 years in and out of hospitals and an Assessment and Treatment Unit (ATU), I had my own place.
As a young teenager, I was diagnosed with a mild learning disability and atypical autism. I attended special needs schools and lived at home with my mum but, even though I had lots of support, I began struggling with my mental health.
I used to get very upset about things, heartbroken, really. And in my distress, I often ended up attacking things and people around me.
Eventually, in my late teens, I was diagnosed with personality disorders. Sometimes I couldn’t control my behaviour and, at times, it got so bad that the police were called.
The first time that happened I was really scared. I remember being taken away from my home to the police station and then put in a cell. Though the door was left open, I was worried about what would happen to me.
It soon became obvious I needed specialist support (Picture: Kelly Rainey)
On that occasion I was sent home, but this was the first of many times when I was taken away from my family home.
It soon became obvious I needed specialist support. So, when I was about 25 years old I was moved into a long-stay hospital where I was detained under the Mental Health Act.
This came as a total shock to me and my mum. She wasn’t told anything until it had all been decided but she was unable to stop what was happening.
At the hospital, I started off in a ward that was just for me. I was on a mix of sedative medications, had 24-hour support from a nursing team and saw the consultant psychiatrist at least three times a week.
As I progressed, I was moved into a bungalow within the hospital, though it never felt like home.
I was still staying within a specialist hospital, so there were a lot of restrictions. For example, the TV was in a secure cabinet and all knives and forks were counted and locked away.
Planning could finally begin for me to move out of the hospital (Picture: Kelly Rainey)
I was also limited to what I could watch, what I could do on the computer and how I could use social media. As for exercise, I could only walk in the grounds around my bungalow.
Plus, as the hospital was a long way from my family home, it was difficult for my mum to visit. While we FaceTimed regularly, I saw her once per month at most.
I didn’t like that because, aside from the 5-to-1 staffing I had for restraint, I had few people to …read more
Source:: Metro
