Alison's story

I would like to congratulate your organisation on taking the first steps to have the prejudiced terminology which surrounds mental illness outlawed in Britain today.

Both my father and I have experienced from mental illness. My father, now in his eighties, experienced two severe breakdowns as a result of his wife's unexpected death some years ago. Prior to his retirement he had been a senior officer in the Armed Forces. He held positions of social responsibility all his life. He was hospitalised during his breakdown and, as a result, lost many of the friends.

I particularly remember one night shortly after his first admission. My father was the custodian for a number of our neighbours’ keys and would, out of kindness, look after their houses while they were away on holiday. I was staying at his house for the weekend and his neighbour phoned late at night to ask for his keys back. I explained that I did not know where they were kept and he insisted on making his way to the house and standing in our kitchen until they could be found. He then took them home without a word. When my father returned from hospital he was regarded with suspicion by many people in his village and he became increasingly isolated and lonely. He had been a regular in his local church, yet the vicar and local parishoners failed to visit him either in hospital or on discharge. Happily he has since moved away and has rebuilt his life.
Even today his illness is cloaked in silence for fear of meeting with the same prejudice in his new environment.

Four years after my mother's death I, too, experienced two severe breakdowns, survived three suicide attempts and was hospitalised. Prior to this I had been a very happy, outgoing person. I had numerous friends I regarded as close 'friends for life'. About two weeks into my illness one particular friend told me that if I did not get well we would no longer be friends. Later, when I was recovering I was very lonely - I asked another 'close' friend, who lived not far away to come, and visit me and she said, "Whatever happened to that intelligent woman I used to look up to?" I asked her again to come and see me and she just said "I hate mental illness." Of course my reply was, "So do I." Needless to say, I have not seen her again.

As I have become well and rebuilt my life I have found how very lonely mental illness can be. Friends never refer to it. They never ask how I am or tell me how well I am doing now. If I was recovering from a physical illness such as cancer I believe their attitude would be totally different. Nowadays I can count the number of friends I have on the fingers of one hand. I find people I have met after being ill much easier to cope with but it does involve 'playing into' their prejudiced terminology - "When you were barmy...." "Everyone knows you're barking...." "That's typical of you, everyone knows you're nuts...." On the odd occasion it has seemed I may be having a relapse I have been told, categorically, that if I do so "I won't be able to cope with you..." "You'll be on your own...."
I see my life in two parts - pre and post breakdown. I try to talk openly about my illness in order to break down prejudice about mental illness - but it is an uphill battle.

I do think the media needs to be dictated to and told that derogatory terms about mental illness are unacceptable. Comedians, restricted by political correctness in the areas of sexuality, race and religion, use mental illness as an area where there is 'no boundary'. Comedy programmes like Little Britain serve to perpetuate the traditional image of the mentally ill person as uncontrollable and embarrassing.

Please thank those involved in your organisation for taking this stand. I hope this account of my personal experiences helps to assure you that the work you are doing is highly valued by those whose voice does not seem to count.