Letter of Thanks to Northwick Park Mental Health Unit

The family of a former patient sent us this letter – along with some gifts for staff and a donation to our charitable funds – we have anonymised the letter.

[It] is exactly one year since my dad made his journey to his restful place.

I have spent the whole year evaluating the last 37 years of my dad’s life because this is the amount of time I have been with him. I didn't want to make today just another day, I wanted it to be a day of remembrance and his journey through life. 

When I was in my teens my dad was admitted onto a mental health ward twice and then began his journey in the mental health system. We are very quick to judge and vent anger out on health services when most of the time they are doing the best they can.

Twenty years ago mental health services were always hidden away in a corner, the back of a hospital or amongst some fields where they cannot be seen. Stigma and prejudice has been around for quite some time and although we are starting to have conversations about 'mental health' I wonder if it is he right one at times. 

We are becoming more and more aware of emotional distress, of acute depression often stress related or otherwise. But how often are we having the conversation of a person having unusual experiences, the person who has completely lost touch with reality and the reality they live in is very different. 

How often are we having the conversation of when a person’s perceptions and senses have altered and they are fearful of everyone around them. How must it feel for the person that the very people they once trusted are part of a conspiracy and they are no longer able to trust them. 

How must one feel when they have lost all control of themselves, the once able person has now lost the functions of their body and are not even aware of their bodily motions. That person who has not had a drink in days and is severely dehydrated because they think that the water they are provided with is poisoned by the very people that they could once trust. The people whose moods are out of control and feel a huge sense of euphoria followed by a downward spiral and hitting a brick wall.

Not to undermine the thoughts of wanting to end your life and suicide because it is serious and very real. However suicide is often at the end of wanting to escape the thoughts and wanting them to end. It is the helplessness and emptiness that can lead people to make such decisions and succeed. 

When a mental health worker loses a patient to suicide it is not an outcome that can be accepted, the worker will ask themselves over and over again what they could have done differently. They themselves will also grieve and mourn that person because mental health is not a tick box exercise.

My dad died due to his physical health and although throughout his life he had to live with his mental health he never let it define him. He continued whilst struggling to lead a normal life as possible. The only people who he would really speak to about his experiences were very few. You see the stigma he faced from some of his very own people prevented him to share his burden. Although there is a lot of trauma, oppressions and suppression in my dad’s life he also had to deal with the illness on top of that. 

My dad was not admitted to mental health inpatient unit because he was a little sad or wanted to end his life although had he not got the support we possibly would have lost him a lot earlier, but it was for the very reason that he had lost touch with reality. So much so that he needed electroconvulsive therapy and also be brought into hospital by police because he refused to leave his home to go to hospital, this was because the very people trying to help him were also against him in his mind.

As a teenager I watched all of that but I remember when my dad entered the mental health unit and all of a sudden it became a safe haven. People were not judging you anymore, they were empathetic and sympathetic. They knew exactly what was wrong with him and they also knew how to heal him. They provided him with love and care and supported him to get better. When he made progress they were happy for him and when he wasn't well they were sad with him. All of dads emotions and all he felt they lived it with him. 

He no longer had to be scared and suppressed, he was able to be who he wanted to and there was nobody to talk about him or to make fun of him behind his back.

This is what happens in south Asian communities, this is why it is kept quiet and is also the very reason why they call it a lonely illness. You see there are no get well soon cards if you are in hospital with such illness, it is never spoken about or acknowledged. Almost like if we talk about it, it is catching. You are made to feel that you need to be locked up with the key thrown away because you have committed a crime. 

As far as we have come as a society and we are having conversations and talking more I wonder  if we are having the right conversations. 

My experience with South Asian communities has been far from positive, my dad’s illness was plastered in so many disastrously ways in our community where we felt alienated. 

Such 'educated' views were held as my dad’s being defied the very meaning of being a man. These views were not only held by the wider community but members of his family, views of all this just being 'in is head' the fact he took medication made him weak and he had to 'wean' off it because he would get addicted.

I ask how often we have this conversation with a diabetic or a hypertensive that you need to wean off your medication before you get use to them, we don't have such conversations because we know it saves lives. My dad and his medication saved his life and prevented another hospital admission. 

I wanted to take the opportunity to thank all of the staff at Northwick Park hospital Mental Health Unit, especially Sidney and Sunny. They provided my dad and his family with hope and sunshine. I was inspired by the work that the staff had done with my dad but also torn for what was ahead outside of the hospital ward door. 

Time after my dad’s admission we tried to get on with normal life but I saw the looks and the snickering behind his back. even in years to come when we would be invited for parties people would talk and laugh behind his back calling him 'mental' and gesturing at the same time. These very people who were his so called family friends now had something to talk about. 

We all like to have a laugh, it is what lightens the very seriousness of life but a laugh and someone's expense is a very short lived joyful experience. Dad had to go through that but his love for his family was endless, his eyes were the gateway to his heart and as deep as the ocean. It was this very helplessness and heartache of my dad made me want to help him. He would have people tell him interesting things but he needed it to come from the right place. 

I decided that I wanted to help, not only my dad but should anyone be in his position again. I thought if I could help just one family I would have made a difference. By this time I had lost all faith in my community and I wanted to protect my dad. After my undergraduate degree I decided to go into mental health nursing, as challenging I found it I also found it rewarding. I completed and with ongoing experience I was in a position to no longer be influenced by such derogatory views. 

I surrounded myself with likeminded people and was able to build the respect for my dad that he had once lost.

Today after a year of my dad’s passing I remember the beautiful times we had as a family but also the most pressing and challenging. I did become closer to my dad and towards the end of his life I started to rely on him more and more. A relationship that started with being my dad’s nurse so to speak I became his daughter. 

I have learned to accept that we cannot change people’s views, although they may be living in a world where they have not been touched by mental illness they are not privileged enough to see how much love can come out of it. The experience of this very dark part of my life enabled me to find a husband and have a child where love is endless. It is through the love my dad learned to give me that I am able to share that love with my very own.

I would like to take this opportunity to wish everyone love this Christmas. I know it is going to be a very different Christmas for many of us compared to recent years, but please don't forget the importance of love and care. 

On the behalf of XX and his family we thank all the staff at Northwick park Mental Health Unit for the love you gave my dad. I remember when I used to come and visit my dad I was in awe of how you all were, it shaped me to be the nurse that I am today. My dad would often speak of his experiences in the unit very positively.

May God continue to bless you all and continue to give you all the strength and love to do the job that you do.