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Hampshire 29-year-old to take on groundbreaking Europe walk
Hampshire 29-year-old to take on groundbreaking Europe walk

BBC News

time9 hours ago

  • Health
  • BBC News

Hampshire 29-year-old to take on groundbreaking Europe walk

A former addict who shares her struggles through poems on TikTok hopes to document a groundbreaking challenge for suicide Birks, 29, from Andover, Hampshire, wants to be the first person to travel on foot from Europe's northernmost point in Norway, to its southernmost point on the Greek island of solo challenge is a 8,500km (5,280 mile) journey that will take her through 10 countries and last about a Birks said: "I'm doing this trek to make lots of noise around suicide prevention." She said she started taking antidepressants aged 13 to treat persistent insomnia, anxiety and her teens she struggled with anorexia and bulimia, before becoming addicted to drugs and alcohol at aged said: "It wasn't apparent at first: when you're young, people your age are drinking lots as well."Ms Birks said her "party girl" persona became increasingly destructive in her early 20s, and eventually "spiralled into everyday using".Then, in March 2021, she ran away from home and became homeless."My family didn't really know where I was. I put them through hell," she said. "I tried to take my life three times. Luckily, I was really bad at it."In May 2022, she found herself with "nowhere else to go" and was accepted back by her family "without hesitation".A friend posted about a recovery programme and she decided to attend an online meeting, which she said was "amazing".During her recovery, she was diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar disorder. She said: "I found poetry in recovery, I wasn't even 30 days clean, and I just picked up a pen and a piece of paper and started writing."By the time you get to rock bottom, you've got this rucksack on your back filled with so much stuff, and you think you're going to take it to your grave."Poetry became my way of expressing that, when saying things really bluntly felt too scary."Her poems struck a chord on TikTok, where she has more than 37,000 said: "I made a vow to myself that I didn't want anyone else to go through years of feeling lost and misunderstood."I just want people to know that it's OK to talk about it more, and there's no shame in anything that you're struggling with." She has been training to carry everything she needs in her 20kg backpack, including a tent and a large flag bearing the names of people who have taken their own lives. Some of them are friends, others were sent in by bereaved well-wishers online."I'm going to hit so many points where I think 'I don't know how I'm going to do this," she said."That's why I've got the flag, and that's why I've got people's names on my tent, because it's all these little reminders of the bigger picture."I'm determined to do this, so I know I will."She hopes to "honour the lives of those lost to suicide" and show people "it does get good again"."If you take it one step at a time, eventually you will find yourself back in the light again," she added. You can follow BBC Hampshire & Isle of Wight on Facebook, X (Twitter), or Instagram.

Inside a Victorian prison where an inmate recorded seven suicide attempts in four weeks
Inside a Victorian prison where an inmate recorded seven suicide attempts in four weeks

ABC News

time18 hours ago

  • Health
  • ABC News

Inside a Victorian prison where an inmate recorded seven suicide attempts in four weeks

A former prisoner says she documented seven suicide attempts in just four weeks inside Victoria's maximum security women's prison, amid a wave of lockdowns triggered by staff shortages. Warning: This story contains references to self-harm and suicide attempts. Kelly Flanagan was released on parole from Dame Phyllis Frost Centre in late March, she had been incarcerated for 42 months after being found guilty of armed robbery, kidnapping and false imprisonment. She described her crimes as a "drug deal gone wrong". Since July last year, the prison faced unprecedented rolling lockdowns disrupting legal, health and welfare services, as well as cutting off visits and phone calls. Lockdowns are usually reserved for emergencies like riots or other security breaches. However, at the Dame Phyllis Frost Centre, they've been routinely implemented due to a lack of staff. With each prisoner sealed in a small individual cell, Ms Flanagan likened the conditions to solitary confinement. She says she and her fellow prisoners were locked away with no interaction or support or sometimes even meals for days and nights on end. "You'd normally get unlocked at 8:30 in the morning, they would count everyone … and then the next thing you know, you're not getting let out. So you're required to stay in your cell," she told 7.30. Her diary documents a suicide attempt by a fellow inmate on March 13, the attending nurse said the inmate had slashed her own throat and wrists. Just two days later, another attempt was recorded in her documents. Ms Flanagan wrote notes about five further attempts involving Indigenous women in a separate unit. "This is what happens when you put us in a space with no connection," she told 7.30. Two years before Waradjari woman Ms Flanagan was incarcerated, another Indigenous woman, Veronica Nelson, died in custody at the same prison. An inquest into her death prompted major reforms, but Ms Flanagan says she fears the widespread lockdowns could lead to another death in custody. "Enough is enough. How many more people need to die for someone to listen, for someone to take accountability?" Ms Flanagan asked. "I feel like I owe it to the other women to give them a voice." The Department of Justice and Community Safety (DJCS) told 7.30 in a statement "lockdowns are sometimes required to ensure the safety of staff and prisoners". Confidential government correspondence obtained by 7.30 reveals there have been at least 106 lockdowns at the prison since July last year. One letter, signed by the Department of Justice and Community Safety's acting secretary, Ryan Phillips, insists meals and legal visits have continued as usual and denies any rise in self-harm incidents. It also states no unit was locked down for more than one consecutive day. However, a log of legal and other services also obtained by 7.30 contradicts these assurances. On February 18, a 43-hour lockdown was recorded. 'No access out of cell', the entry states. On November 8 and 11, 'no dinner' is catalogued. Former prisoner Kelly Flanagan also noted 'no dinner' in her diary on those days. The same activity log documents seven missed legal appointments and the cancellation of 28 housing-related appointments, a critical requirement for prisoners nearing release. Without secured housing, inmates cannot be paroled. Adriana Mackay from the support service Flat Out says multiple women they've supported were held in prison months beyond their release dates because lockdowns prevented them from attending key housing appointments. "Housing offers will be rescinded and taken off the table, and we're left really scrambling, trying to advocate for the housing offer to remain whilst there is an uncertainty," Ms Mackay said. She recalls supporting Kelly Flanagan while she was still inside, noting Ms Flanagan missed most of her appointments due to lockdowns and remained in custody months past her release date. A number of support services, including Flat Out, have raised concerns about the impact of the lockdowns, but Ms Mackay says government officials continue to dismiss them. "What we're seeing on the ground versus what's being told to us … they don't match up," Ms Mackay. "We're just all at a loss." A spokesperson for the DJCS told 7.30 prisoners "continue to have their healthcare needs met if a lockdown occurs and arrangements are also made to ensure access to legal services and rehabilitation". Earlier this month, more than 1,000 prison officers cast a no-confidence vote in the state's Corrections Commissioner Larissa Strong. The CPSU, which conducted the vote, cited soaring violence, a string of assaults against staff across the prison system and chronic staff shortages, problems expected to get even worse under the state's tougher bail laws, which were introduced in March and are likely to increase the prison population. To address this, the Victorian government announced a $727 million cash injection, which will go towards securing 1,000 more prison beds. The government has also launched an aggressive recruitment drive for prison guards, which includes an $8,000 sign-on sweetener for recruits. Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan said more than 640 new prison officers have already signed on. However, the state's Shadow Corrections Minister David Southwick said the new measures are not enough to transform what he calls a system in crisis. "It's just crazy, the fact that this government has allowed it to get this bad," Mr Southwick said. He says prison guards have been contacting him directly, expressing their unwillingness to turn up to work due to safety concerns and a lack of support from management. "Four staff were injured yesterday due to non-compliant prisoners," one text read. "Two more of my colleagues have been assaulted. One sustained a punch to the face, and the other was spat on." another read. He says some guards are now refusing to show up for work, while others are quitting the service altogether, worsening staff shortages and creating further lockdowns. "It's just a vicious cycle," Mr Southwick said. The Minister for Corrections Enver Erdogan told 7.30 in a statement he has asked the Commissioner to review "how handcuffs and other measures are used to make sure staff safety is put first." "We are continuing to recruit hundreds of new corrections staff … with new recruits starting at DPFC (Dame Phyllis Frost Centre) soon." Watch 7.30, Mondays to Thursdays 7:30pm on ABC iview and ABC TV Do you know more about this story? Get in touch with 7.30 here.

Why so many psychiatrists are quitting
Why so many psychiatrists are quitting

ABC News

timea day ago

  • Health
  • ABC News

Why so many psychiatrists are quitting

Sam Hawley: Hi, just a warning before we begin this episode, we will be discussing suicide. ... There are so many stories of patients being left in emergency rooms for too long, of being admitted but then discharged too early or even being sent home without any care at all. As a result, in New South Wales, psychiatrists are quitting in droves, leaving a system they say is broken. And they're now speaking out amid fears it could lead to another Bondi Junction-style attack where innocent people are killed or injured. Today, Avani Dias on her investigation into a mental health system in desperate need of repair. I'm Sam Hawley on Gadigal land in Sydney. This is ABC News Daily. Avani, you've been investigating a crisis in mental health care in Australia's most populous state, of course, New South Wales, but this is really important for everyone across the country, right? Because if this sort of care is not available at a time of crisis, there can be really serious consequences. Avani Dias: Absolutely, Sam, and I think the first thing that pops into everyone's head is the Bondi Junction attack, which was just so devastating. And we've been hearing the inquest over the last couple of weeks and, you know, that just shows when there are gaps in the mental health system, there can just be such, such serious consequences. It's obviously worth noting that the Bondi Junction attacker, Joel Cauchi, had been treated in the Queensland public system until 2012, then by a private psychiatrist also in Queensland, and that was years before he moved to Sydney. But when I spoke to all these psychiatrists across New South Wales, they told me they saw the news breaking and they just got this pit in their stomach. They thought, oh, my goodness, is that my patient? And a lot of them actually told me they weren't surprised by this attack because of the just devastating conditions they're watching in the public mental health system. Sam Hawley: All right, well, as we said, of course, there's a real problem at the moment in New South Wales because this year alone, more than 60 psychiatrists have quit in protest over the state of the system. At least another 100 have actually threatened to resign their permanent roles. Now, tell me about Dr Suzy Goodison. She used to work at Sydney's largest hospital, RPA. Avani Dias: Yeah, so Dr Goodison resigned with all the other psychiatrists in January, and hearing her talk about the state of the system and what she had seen at her decade at RPA, it was really clear that she just felt what she called a moral injury. She felt she couldn't treat her patients properly. Dr Suzy Goodison, psychiatrist: I realised that I was burning out. Sorry. I just couldn't keep walking on by and pretending that this was normal and that we were delivering care that was adequate. Avani Dias: People were coming in for care and she spoke of these cases where she worked in the emergency department and she would actually say to people who were critically unwell that they should just go home because she thought the wait times that they would have to experience in the emergency department would actually make their conditions worse. Dr Suzy Goodison, psychiatrist: There were people who I remember being discharged and they'd be back in the emergency department the next day. It's pretty awful and demoralising and I think it wears you down and it felt hopeless at times. There were times when I thought, what am I actually doing for this patient? Avani Dias: And then she spoke about one of the last cases that she saw in January. It was this man who was living with schizophrenia and he had come into the hospital, he was looking for care. Dr Suzy Goodison, psychiatrist: And he came in to RPA, to the emergency department, with a nail gun and he had shot nails actually into his knees because the voices were telling him to do that. And so I immediately flagged that this man needed a significant amount of care. He needed a bed in an acute sort of mental health unit and that I was very concerned about him being in the general hospital. I then went off on a weekend and when I called on the Monday, he'd absconded from the ward, the hospital ward, and no-one knew where he was. He had no fixed address and I don't know what happened to him. Avani Dias: So could he still be out there in the community in that current state? Dr Suzy Goodison, psychiatrist: Yeah. Avani Dias: She was just really worried about the fact that some of these people who were so unwell, who needed treatment, weren't getting it in time and then they could be just out in the community. Dr Suzy Goodison, psychiatrist: These are the risks that we carry when we work in this field and when I can't deliver that care to keep either individuals safe or the community safe. And... Sorry. It's another Bondi Junction waiting to happen. Sam Hawley: How concerning. And you've also spoken to another psychiatrist, Avani, who quit the New South Wales health system this year. She had one word to describe what's going on and it is broken. Avani Dias: Yeah, it's a pretty big word, isn't it? And, I mean, it is really what we are witnessing, according to these doctors, medical staff, patients, is the collapse of mental health care in New South Wales in the public system. And, yeah, we spoke to this one psychiatrist, Dr Anu Kataria, and she has worked at Australia's largest mental health hospital, Cumberland Hospital, for 22 years and she also resigned with the other psychiatrist. But she echoed this really disturbing pattern that doctors have told us about, that she was told by bosses to discharge patients before it was safe to do so. Dr Anu Kataria, psychiatrist: We often would reach work and at half past eight in the morning get a text message saying, ED is backed up, Westmead ED is backed up, there's 15 people waiting, there's a dozen waiting at Blacktown and we're the overflow hospital for Blacktown Hospital as well. Please discharge. The expectation from senior administration, from the executives, is that I just get people out as soon as I can. Avani Dias: And we heard from a lot of people as well that that was their experience. They'd be dealing with these serious mental illnesses and then asked to leave and they felt they weren't ready. Sam Hawley: All right, well, we're going to unpack what is going so wrong in New South Wales, but before we do, Avani, what about mental health services across the country? Are they any better? Avani Dias: Well, the thing is that in New South Wales, the government is spending the lowest per capita in the country on mental health services. So it is really the bottom of the barrel when it comes to spending and that's why we decided to focus on New South Wales. But, yeah, a lot of the other states aren't far behind and we actually received the results of a landmark national survey by Beyond Blue and it revealed that rates of severe mental illness in Australia are rising. So now four and a half million Australians are experiencing a serious mental health challenge, but more than half of them aren't getting the help they need when they need it. And so that just shows you that this is a national problem, but New South Wales really is struggling the most when it comes to these services. Sam Hawley: Well, Avani, as you went about your investigation, you not only spoke to psychiatrists, of course, but you wanted to hear from people who'd had experiences trying to get help in the New South Wales system and you had a really big response, didn't you? Avani Dias: That's right. We asked our audience at Four Corners to tell us their stories about getting help for a serious mental illness in New South Wales and the response was overwhelming. There was one case that really stood out to me and that was the case of Carly Richardson. She's 20, she's had depression, she has PTSD, she's been in and out of the mental health system since she was 13, so super little and she's still dealing with these severe mental illnesses. And she actually self-harmed around New Year's and she actually went to hospital to try and get help but was discharged early. Carly Richardson, former patient: I had a suicide attempt in the ward and I was saying, like, look, I'm not OK, you know, like nothing had changed for me. And they said to me, they're like, we can't do anything because the beds everywhere were full. So they just had to send me home, essentially. Once I got out, I didn't even make it home before I was sectioned again by six police officers and brought back to the emergency department after trying to harm myself again. And once again, I was, like, sent home just 10 hours later. Avani Dias: She was just really worried about the lack of help out there for someone who was in such a severe state like she was. Sam Hawley: And you've heard a lot about safety in emergency departments. Avani Dias: That's right. And, you know, this starts from a kind of earlier position because we were leaked a whole series of wait times at one of Australia's busiest emergency departments, Sydney's Westmead Hospital. And this came from inside sources who told us people were waiting four days in one case in emergency to get treatment for a serious mental illness. So that was a man with schizoaffective disorder and he waited 93 hours. We had another case in that month where two men had been waiting more than 80 hours to be seen. There are so many different examples like this. That leads to agitation, frustration and anger. And so doctors are telling us that it then exacerbates this mental illness and what they're seeing then is people lashing out, acting violently, and then frontline staff are the ones that are actually dealing with that. We spoke to one security guard at Sydney's Westmead Hospital. He actually got stabbed by a mental health patient who had been waiting for hours. Sam Hawley: So, Avani, what do the psychiatrists say is needed to fix the system? At the heart of their dispute is pay, isn't it? What do they want? Avani Dias: There's been months and months of negotiations with New South Wales psychiatrists who are saying they want a 25% pay increase. And they're saying it's not because we want more money necessarily, it's because they need a solution to actually retain staff in the system. They're finding that staff are either moving interstate or they're going to the private system where they can make a lot more money. The government, on the other hand, has said, look, doctors already make a lot of money, they don't need this pay rise. And so now they're deadlocked and they've gone to the workplace disputes referee to kind of nut this out and that's still ongoing, the Industrial Relations Commission. Sam Hawley: What has the state government had to say then? Can it actually meet this pay demand? Avani Dias: Well, the New South Wales Mental Health Minister, Rose Jackson, she declined our requests for an interview, but she has in the past said that the government needs to think about the overall state budget, that it can't necessarily afford this sort of pay rise and that the government's gone back with this counter offer of 10.5% over three years. Rose Jackson, NSW Mental Health Minister: Their solution to this challenge is a 25% wage increase in a single year. That's not something the government is able to agree to. We have to think about the broad, not just mental health system, but overall state budget. Avani Dias: And what was really surprising was that, despite the minister not talking to me, we did hear from the state's chief psychiatrist. His name's Dr Murray Wright and he's the most senior advisor on mental health to the government, so he's a bureaucrat in the department as well and he said he actually supports this 25% pay rise. So that's contrary to the government. Chief Psychiatrist Dr Murray Wright: I am sympathetic to the issues that they raise and I think in particular the disparity in wages between New South Wales and other states. Avani Dias: So are you supportive of that pay rise? Chief Psychiatrist Dr Murray Wright: Yes. Avani Dias: But what the psychiatrist is saying is it's not just about this pay rise, it's a much bigger issue. There's a lot more that needs to be fixed and that comes down to under-resourcing and so there's a push for the government to do more there as well. Sam Hawley: So, Avani, what is the way out of this then? Why would psychiatrists want to work in a sector if it is indeed broken and the sector needs more psychiatrists, clearly? Avani Dias: Oh, the sector is desperate for more psychiatrists. We're seeing job ads coming out saying if we don't hire someone soon, this ward will have to close. Oh, my gosh. Wards are just shutting down continuously just because there aren't enough psychiatrists and that means as a patient, if you're trying to get help, you're just not going to get it. The New South Wales government has admitted to us that the system needs improvement, that it needs reform. It said it is investing $2.9 billion in mental health services and it's saying that if you do need help, you should seek it because there are services there. I guess the question is what can people do in the meantime as they wait for this system to be repaired? Sam Hawley: Avani Dias is a reporter with Four Corners. You can watch her full report tonight on ABC TV at 8.30 or on iView. If this episode has raised any issues for you or anyone you know, Lifeline is one service that can help. Contact them on 13 11 14. This episode was produced by Sydney Pead. Audio production by Adair Sheppherd. Our supervising producer is David Coady. I'm Sam Hawley. Thanks for listening.

Do Patients Without a Terminal Illness Have the Right to Die?
Do Patients Without a Terminal Illness Have the Right to Die?

New York Times

timea day ago

  • General
  • New York Times

Do Patients Without a Terminal Illness Have the Right to Die?

One of the doctors wanted to know why, despite everything, Paula Ritchie was still alive. 'I'm just curious,' she said. 'What has kept you from attempting suicide since August of 2023?' 'I'm not very good at it,' Paula said. 'Obviously.' Then she started to cry. She said that everything was getting worse. She said she didn't want to suffer anymore. 'This is a more dignified way to go than suicide.' Paula was lying in the big bed that she had pulled into the center of the living room, facing an old TV and a window that looked out on a row of garbage bins. The room's brown linoleum floors were stained, and its walls were mostly unadorned. On a bookshelf, there was a small figurine of an angel, her arm raised in offering. At 52, Paula had a pale, unblemished face and a tangle of dark hair that fell around her waist. The day before the appointment, in January this year, she washed her hair for the first time in weeks, but then she was not able to lift herself out of the bathtub. When, after hours, she managed to get out, her pain and dizziness was so bad that she had to crawl across the floor. Dr. Matt Wonnacott sat in a folding chair at the foot of the bed. He was there as Paula's 'primary assessor': one of two independent physicians, along with Dr. Elspeth MacEwan, a psychiatrist, who drove through the snow to Smiths Falls, Ontario, to evaluate Paula's eligibility for Canada's Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) program — what critics call physician-assisted suicide. 'You're a difficult case,' Wonnacott admitted. Another clinician had already assessed Paula and determined that she was ineligible — but there was no limit to how many assessments a patient could undergo, and Paula had called the region's MAID coordination service every day, sometimes every hour, demanding to be assessed again, until the nurse on the other line had practically begged Wonnacott and his colleagues to take Paula off her roster. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.

A Fresno mother shares her journey with schizophrenia advocacy
A Fresno mother shares her journey with schizophrenia advocacy

Yahoo

time2 days ago

  • Health
  • Yahoo

A Fresno mother shares her journey with schizophrenia advocacy

Editor's note: This op-ed contains mentions of suicide and mental illness. If you or someone you know is in crisis, call or text 988 to the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. My son died of schizophrenia when he took his own life at the age of 32. I first heard that term 'schizophrenia' applied to my child when he was 22. A psychiatrist sat opposite me at a huge empty conference table and said the word. The effect was total shock. But also total bewilderment. I had considered myself an educated person, but that word, hanging in the air, was beyond my understanding. Where knowledge should have been I found only a blur of misconceptions and movie plots that led to one inevitable conclusion: I had caused this. The doctor did not seem to feel that an explanation was required, so I was left on my own to learn about serious mental illness, a category with a blurry definition. 'Serious mental illness' is something that families come to recognize as we meet with other families facing similar problems. Touch points in our shared stories include involuntary psychiatric holds, jail, homelessness, refusal to shower and, of course, refusal to take medications. We talk about the voices our loved ones hear, the signals they receive — from cars, or cats, or grocery carts. Strangeness becomes familiar. We begin to believe we can't be shocked. But I recently learned something that astonished me: An expert declare that more Americans have schizophrenia than have Type I diabetes. That sounded ridiculous, so I looked it up — and it's true. Johns Hopkins says that about 1% of the population has schizophrenia, while Type I diabetes, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, is found in only 0.55% of the population. Odd, then, that there's so much research on diabetes, but so little on schizophrenia. Odd, too, that medical approaches are so different for the two illnesses. A diabetes diagnosis is likely to come with education, training and treatment, whereas a diagnosis of serious mental illness is a voyage into the abyss. There are medical and legal reasons for this discrepancy. In past eras, mothers were the single medically acknowledged cause of schizophrenia. So that's the medical precedent that may have led us here. On the legal side is patients'-rights legislation, well-intentioned law that can backfire for families like ours. A family member trying to get treatment for a loved one with serious mental illness — the way a family member of someone with Type I diabetes would seek access to insulin — will undoubtedly be frustrated. One of the hallmark symptoms of serious mental illness is anosognosia, the inability to understand that one is ill. Our loved ones with life-threatening illnesses are, by their own reckoning, not sick. Knowing themselves to be perfectly healthy, they logically refuse treatment. And this is where things get dicey, because this refusal is their legal right, even when it is clearly not in their best interest. They can be desperately ill but not meet the criteria for involuntary treatment. And there is nothing family members can do. Jerri Clark is a mother whose attempts to get treatment for her son were futile. As she has explained in advocating for changes to the law, 'my son met criteria for involuntary treatment the moment that he stepped off the roof of a hotel and plunged to his death.' Clark, now on staff at the Treatment Advocacy Center, is careful to use the wording 'no-fault diseases of the brain' when speaking of serious mental illness. 'No-fault' gets to a central problem in the world of serious mental illness, which is the impulse to blame someone — the patient, for exhibiting terrifying symptoms; the family, for having raised a person who now exhibits terrifying symptoms — for this disease. When they do consent to treatment, our loved ones are most often still being treated with drugs developed in the '50s. Research on serious mental illness is scant. John Snook, director of government relations at the National Association for Behavioral Healthcare, has warned about professional indifference to serious mental illness, despite alarming mortality rates. According to one study, the death rate among those with schizophrenia is four times higher than what is seen in the general population. Snook and other advocates have worked long but so far fruitlessly to get schizophrenia classified as a brain disease like Parkinson's or Alzheimer's instead of as a mental illness. 'The science is clear,' Snook says. 'It's a neurological condition.' Yes. It is. But treatment of our loved ones with serious mental illness does not yet reflect this reality. This neurological condition deserves research, understanding and treatment. Julia Copeland is a retired arts administrator who volunteers at her local National Alliance on Mental Illness office in Fresno.

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