This time a few years ago I was under section on a psychiatric high dependency unit. I had been detained after people came to my Mum's house unannounced. I was removed from the house and put in rapid and secure transport, to be delivered to the unit, which was miles away from my home. I was in for Christmas, and on Christmas Day, I was allowed an hour of escorted leave on the grounds, which I spent with my family in the hospital cafe. It was dreadful.
This year, I am spending Christmas in my own flat. I'm seeing my aunt and the children in the morning, then going to my Nan's to spend dinner with ten of my family members. I am so excited. This year, I have a job where I'm valued, I have my own little flat, I am able to go out when I want to where I want. Things are OK. I'm not the person I was. I still have blips and anxiety, but I manage it a lot better than I used to.
I still sometimes struggle with memories of detentions and the experiences I've had when things have been tough, but as I put in a letter to my CPN today, I don't think I'd change things. I've learnt a lot. I'm stronger. I'm much more self aware. I'm more compassionate and am able to empathise with people in a way that I couldn't if I hadn't been through what I have. It's changed me, yes. But not for the worse.
