The paddy wagon stopped, I got out, and the first thing I said was, "Is this the Frankland Centre?"
I knew a little about it. It's where people go when they're too unwell for prison, or when a court finds them not guilty by reason of unsoundness of mind. That was me. I'd been told the psychiatrist in charge knew I was coming. I was holding on to that.
They walked me in, stripped me naked and put me in the shower. There were nurses over in the corner, talking. Somebody was in the shower with me, looking over my body to make sure I wasn't injured. You're in the system now.
They took me to the ward. I had a few personal belongings, and one of them was my Bible. They weren't going to let me keep it, because it had a string in it and I might use the string to kill myself. So I tore the string out, gave them the string and kept my Bible.
Then I met the people I'd be living with.
That first afternoon I had a few weird conversations. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to know that some of the people around me weren't on the level. You'd be talking to someone and it would sound normal, and then it wouldn't. And I knew that some of the men on that ward had come straight from prison.
Then it was night.
I want to be really plain about this part, because I think people imagine a psych ward as a quiet, gentle place. Lying in that bed, I didn't know if the door was going to open again and I was going to get raped.
That's exactly what I was thinking. I was a young guy, I'd been well for two years, and now I was locked in with men I didn't know, some of whom had done terrible things. I couldn't lock my own door. I couldn't leave. I couldn't call anyone.
Someone had told me the doors had sensors, so the control room would know if they opened. That helped a bit. But after the conversations I'd had that day, knowing that people weren't on the level, it was not great.
So I lay there and listened.
I prayed. I don't remember the words. I just remember being very awake, and very aware of the door.
Eventually I fell asleep.
I'm telling this because I think it matters. When we talk about mental health, we usually talk about the illness. We don't talk much about what happens to people once the system takes over. I got sick. I didn't do anything criminal. And on my first night, I was lying in the dark, scared of being assaulted.
I was one of the lucky ones. I had a dad who was already out there fighting for me, and a church that was about to turn up in numbers the staff weren't ready for. Some of the men on that ward had nobody.
The next morning I sat down at breakfast, and the guys at my table started trading stories about why they were there.
What I heard at that table, I've never forgotten.
If you're struggling right now, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. In an emergency call 000.
