Fifteen years ago, when our son began experiencing early signs of psychosis, options for help were scarce. In order for him to receive treatment of any kind, he had to be considered a danger to himself or others. He reached that threshold when he was 18, and how did the mental health system respond? The police arrived, handcuffed him and transported him to our state’s psychiatric hospital. During a hearing at the hospital, he was involuntarily committed. He lost his right to participate in decisions about his treatment. Our family was blocked from information or involvement. At the hospital, the staff took a heavy-handed approach to treatment and injected him with powerful drugs twice a day or more, as needed. It took months of vegetating him in a locked hospital ward before they found an effective combination and dosage of medications. Only then was he was allowed to participate in his treatment decisions or plan for his discharge. This experience did an overwhelming amount of damage to our son and our entire family. Yet, I consider us fortunate. After psychosis, many young people are unable to get their life back on track—they never finish school or get another job, they begin cycles of repeated hospitalizations or incarceration. Over time, some become homeless and others become victims of violence and trauma. The toll of psychosis is massive.
[For more of this story, written by Dawn Brown, go to http://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI...amp;utm_medium=email]
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