I tried to keep an involvement,
or at least an awareness of everything that was going on and reflect it in
MINDWAVES, but as the movement grew, this was increasingly difficult. The
most amazing experience I had during that time was a 2 week visit to Japan,
to take part in a series of events to mark the end of the UN Decade for the
Disabled. I spoke in about 13 Japanese cities about the need to involve and
respect users' experience. Also, visiting America for their national
advocacy event; spending time with (to me, legendary figures) like Judi
Chamberlin, Rae Unzicker and Leonard Roy Frank, who wrote 'The History of
Shock Treatment'. These opportunities were healing for my personal
self-esteem, and permanently ended my aggrieved sense of being the slum kid
who had missed out on all the good things in life. As MINDLINK grew, the
time and resources didn't, so in 1992 I left and went freelance. Wonderful
Madie Chapman took over MINDLINK and with her clear thinking broke through
some of the barriers which had been holding up its further development. For
me, becoming freelance meant getting out of the centre of things and back
to the grassroots, which was probably a good thing for me at that stage, or
my ego might have taken over completely! Jim Read and I wrote our series of
publications for COHSE/UNISON on user empowerment, advocacy and equal
opportunites, and I was asked to work on advocacy development in North
Herts and Harrow, meeting new stars such as Veronica Dewan and Chris
Wright. I facilitated user-led research by Asian and African-Caribbean
users in Waltham Forest, and was part of the Mental Health Task Force User
Group. This was an incredibly difficult and frustrating experience: being
shut in a claustrophobic small room in Richmond House for many hours, where
we worked and fought over the planning of ten conferences, a series of
training workshops for user trainers, the Users Charter and the big
national conference (held in 1994). The process was worth it for the
achievement of making user involvement more widely known and accepted, and
for the publications and the survivor conferences we held, but at the end
of that two year period, I had had enough of national self-advocacy
politics. I decided to concentrate on my own research and on my interest in
complementary therapies. Three years on a PhD at South Bank University
sounded at first like a haven. Unfortunately it wasn't, and the PhD (on
users' experiences of crisis and treatment) still isn't finished, though I
have now restarted it. However, my research experience and my training as
an aromatherapist and Reiki practitioner, led to me getting a job in the
wonderful Strategies for Living user-led research project at the Mental
Health Foundation, managed by another star, Alison Faulkner. I am now
managing the Foundation's adult mental health programmes, and have devised
a project called SPIRAL, which will fund work on preventing mental
distress, early intervention, recovery, and innovative learning. So, for me
its been a personal story of growth and learning, and getting to know a
series of wonderful stars, who I have worked with and watched flourish over
many years: some other notable names being Roberta Graley, Marion Beeforth,
Mary Nettle, Louise Pembroke, David Crepaz-Keay, Karen Campbell, Jean
Taylor, Viv Lindow, Vicky Nicholls, and my special friend Ros Caplin, who
died last year. Apologies for not listing the many many others I have been
close to and who have contributed so much, often unpaid time, out of their
own painful experiences to help others and create an unstoppable movement
for change. As I've indicated, its not all been sweetness and light, but I
don't see the point in dwelling on all the arguments and difficult times.
Its been a life I never expected to have and which has given me so much,
that I don't have any regrets now about the wasted years of my childhood
and early 20s. Each person has so much in them that the psychiatric system
generally never even notices, and which its treatments tend to suppress.
The liberation of that power through working together is, I believe, the
real aim of our movement. Its happened for me and I've seen it happen for
so many others. I do believe that we can change the world.
Mike Lawson
Mike Lawson is a survivor activist with over thirty years experience. A
founder-member of The Mental Patients Union in the mid 1970s and a
founder-member of Survivors Speak Out in the 1980s. As Vice-Chair of
National Mind from 1986-1992, he continued to fight for alternatives to
psychiatry and recipient advocacy both nationally and internationally.
Well-known as a broadcaster and writer on mental health issues, he
continues to promote the authentic voice of individuals who find themselves
at risk of psychiatry and the "mental health" trap. Mike Lawson was born in
an internment/forced labour camp under Stalin's Russia in 1948. After four
years and a nomadic journeying from camp to camp Mike was released from the
camp after being separated from his father, who was released just a few
days before Mike was born. In Berlin Mike was cared for by his maternal
grandfather, as his mother could not stay in Berlin and emigrated to
England. After three years in Berlin Mike was reunited with his mother in
London. To learn a new language and culture at the age of 7 is not an easy
thing. Mike felt alienated and depressed, in the words of his adoptive
father "there had been one change too many". At 17 Mike was due to go to
work, one Monday morning, unable or unwilling to move from bed the journey
to Napsbury Psychiatric Hospital was assured. From 1965 to 1971 Mike
experienced the full thrust of psychiatric intervention from chlorpromazine
to the E.C.T no effort of psychiatric imposition was spared him. After many
readmissions and a cacophony of shrinks and diagnostic labels he left the
bin and subsequently got married and politically activated. After losing a
job with the civil service Mike fought an unfair dismissal case through the
joint support of his trade union and MIND. Subsequently he became a
survivor activist as a founder member of The Mental Patients Union and
later Survivors Speak Out. In 1986 he was elected vice-chair of National
Mind replacing a psychiatrist on the council of management. Having
collaborated with "Were Not Mad Were Angry" shown in 1986 and numerous
newspaper articles; radio broadcasts and the setting up of a number of
local self-advocacy groups Mike continues to work for a better
understanding. Now Mike lives in a council flat in London. At the age of
51, after enormous bouts of depression, he is involved in performance
poetry, poetical and political publication, broadcasts highlighting the
need for a new understanding of mental health issues and the gargantuan
efforts of the art of survival. .
Mary Nettle
Profile of Mary Nettle, a Mental Health User Consultant
I have been earning my own living in this way for the last 9 years. How did
this happen? It's always best to start at the beginning. I was born
47 years ago in Beckford a small village nestling at the foot of
Bredon Hill
in the Vale of Evesham. My mother and sister still live in the house where
I came into this world and I am very lucky to have secure roots in such a
lovely place. I was sent away to a convent boarding school at the
age of 10
and then went to Bristol Polytechnic where I achieved one of the first
Higher National Diplomas in Business Studies and a Diploma in Advanced
Marketing. After college I went to work in marketing research in Eastcote,
Middlesex on the northern outskirts of London. I shared a house with two
other people one of whom I married in
1977. Six months later
I had a
'nervous breakdown', I was under pressure at work and one day had
'hysterics' in the office. I ended up in St Bernard's, a horrible Victorian
asylum for three months. I had become a user of the mental health system
and been given the label of manic depression. This had, as you can imagine,
a profound effect on my life and of those close to me. My husband developed
into chronic alcoholism and died of cirrhosis of the liver in
February 1998
at the age of 48. I was chemically enabled to cope with his increasingly
unacceptable behaviour. Today,
February 2000, I am not on any prophylactic [psychiatric?]
medication and have learnt by listening to my colleagues in the user
movement how to manage my illness. Without their inspiration, help and
support I would never have been able to do what I can now. I am, among many
other things, chair of Mindlink the user voice within the national mental
health charity Mind and a Mental Health Act Commissioner. I feel valued and
hope that in a small way I am enabling others to gain the benefits of
speaking up and speaking out. It feels good to have turned a negative into
a positive. Let's hope this can happen for many more mental health service
users.
Peter Beresford
PETER BERESFORD is professor of social policy and director of the Centre
for Citizen Participation, Brunel University. He also works with Open
Services Project. He is a long term user of mental health services and
actively involved in the psychiatric system survivors movement.
Here is his own story of his life within mental health self-advocacy.
I have used mental health services for 12 years and lived on benefits all
told for more than 10 years. I wouldn't recommend either of these things to
anyone. I don't think I could have imagined what the poverty and distress
involved were like if I hadn't experienced them myself. This is one reason
why direct experience seems so important to me and why I am committed to it
being valued and treated with equality.
Mine is hardly a unique story. I want to stress that I know that my
experience isn't unusual or exceptional in any way. But in terms of loss of
choice and hope, sense of fear and worthlessness and of sheer wretchedness,
I wouldn't wish it on anyone but my worst enemy. I hope I never go back to
it. If I did - and it is something I dread to think of - I fear whether I
could manage. But then I have friends for whom contact with mental health
services, the loss of freedom that goes with poverty and routine hassles
with the benefits agency, are continuing experiences. Knowing this is one
way for me of coping with the possibility of going back. I like to think of
myself as a psychiatric system survivor, but I don't ever assume that I
have seen the last of all this or that one day I won't need to seek escape.
I also know that while I am currently not using mental health services, and
have other sources of support, that I don't know what tomorrow may bring
and that the reasons I came into contact with the psychiatric system are
still with me, are part of me and will be for the rest of my life.
But having said all this, I am also proud of what I have done, what I have
been through and what has happened to me. I am proud I have had these
experiences and so far have got through them. I don't believe in the
virtues of suffering, but there is truth in the saying that what doesn't
kill, you strengthens you (and adds to your knowledge and understanding) I
am proud of the road that poverty and distress have helped set me on and
the way that they have helped me gain some understanding and wisdom both
about myself and others. I am proud of the work they have made it possible
for me to do to try and change things and make them better. I am proud to
have been involved in the setting up of MindLink, the development of
Survivors Speak Out and now of Shaping Our Lives. I am proud of the chances
I have had to work with other service users/survivors to make change -
Suzy, Fran, Kathy, Michael, Ian, Cohn and many more - you know who you are.
I value the support and understanding I have received, especially from
Suzy, Maggie, Catherine, Esther, Rebecca and Ruth. I want to remember those
who have died on the way - Julian, Ros, Doris, Brian and Maria and say
thank you for your struggles, for what I learning from you and for knowing
you.
Perhaps the greatest gain I have got from being involved in the survivors'
movement is that it has both provided me with opportunities to be myself
and
helped me understand that it is possible to be me. I don't have to be
ashamed or hide myself away. I no longer always have to pretend to be
someone else. I remember when I first realised this at a meeting with other
survivors. It was a liberating feeling. It made me catch my breath. I could
just be who I was - no best behaviour was necessary. It was one of the most
life-enhancing and empowering things that happened to me. It is one of the
lessons which I most value and which I am most proud of beginning to learn.
If it means anything, all this is what mad pride means to me.