I am in a right state today as I do not know what is going to happen. I have already had one IBS attack, 20 mins after coming downstairs, which has meant a change of clothes. I was vomiting at the same time
I am writing just to take my mind off of things and want to hark back to when I threatened to blow up my house with me in it. I had even emailed my local friends to say what I was going to do as well as my neurologist.
One of them contacted my GP at the time and I was asked to come down. I was put in a room for ages and then I went out to the car park for a cigarette or four. Then the GP came out and said I could go home; what was the point of all of that if they were not going to talk to me?
Obviously the GP had called the police because I was then later arrested by two very unpleasant officers, one male and one female. I was then thrown into a cell, where I waited for hours before being interviewed by a very understanding detective.
I was released and got home; how, I cannot remember, it is a blur.
But the point is this. I was clearly suffering from a mental illness, caused by the stresses of the divorce and what the GP and the police did was totally wrong. I should have been temporarily detained under the mental health act. Worse still, although I took all of my drugs with me when I was arrested, they refused to give me any, throughout my many hours in the cell.
I should have been in hospital and an ambulance should have been called by that GP. But because they consider that mental health is something not to be touched, like leprosy, she called the police and I was contained in a cell, which was the worst possible place for me to be.